Chapter Eleven

That Friday evening, there was no football game, so I went with the rest of the squad to visit Rachel in the hospital again. Poppy came along to deliver the magazines she promised. Unfortunately, Rachel wasn't doing any better. Poppy and I left the hospital saddened by her dire state.

Things seemed pretty grim between Ryan and me, too. We had planned to hang out that night, but for some reason he had never called.

"I need a pick-me-up," I said. "Want to go to Slim's?"

"Sounds good," said Poppy. "Why don't you call Rose and see if she wants to come along."

Rose was just getting out of her last class of the week when I reached her on her cell phone. She said she'd meet us at the diner.

Hanging with my sisters at the diner was way better than sitting home on a Friday night. A lot of Nightshade kids drove to Santa Cruz and hung out at the pier on the weekends, which meant Main Street was usually dead on Friday night. Tonight was no exception.

At Slim's, Flo sat at the counter, thumbing through a magazine. When we entered, the bell over the door jangled. I assumed its purpose was to alert Flo to the presence of customers, but it certainly didn't interrupt her reading.

Rose was already waiting for Poppy and me in our favorite booth, the one at the end by the big bay window.

Flo eventually meandered over to take our order. Tonight her shirt read, "I LIKE CHILDREN—FRIED."—W.C. FIELDS.

"I'm starving," Poppy said. "This was a great idea, Daisy. Comfort food is just what we need." She ordered a plate of chili fries and a chicken sandwich. Rose tried to order a salad, but we convinced her she needed a side of onion rings, too.

"Is there fresh coffee, Flo?" I asked. "I need coffee and a cheeseburger."

Flo ambled off to put in our order and then resumed her position at the counter.

"Coffee?" Rose said. "At this time of night? You'll never get to sleep." It was seven o'clock, tops.

"I won't be able to sleep anyway," I confessed gloomily. "I want to help Rachel, but I don't know how." I had been to the library a few times that week trying to interpret the information I had copied from Rachel's chart, but it was no use. I didn't even understand half of what I'd read.

"Oh, the sick cheerleader," Rose said. "How is she doing?"

"We went to see her again today," Poppy said. "She looked like she's at death's door."

"The doctors have run all sorts of tests and found nothing," I said. "Or at least that's what they're telling Rachel."

I sighed. I had been so determined to figure out Rachel's problem myself, but who was I kidding? Rose studied science at college, so she had a much better understanding of medical jargon than I did.

I dug through my purse, found the paper towel with my notes on it, and handed it to Rose. "Maybe this says different."

Rose looked over my notes. "Daisy, I won't ask you how you got this information," she said.

"Good. And I won't tell you," I replied.

She studied the scribbles for a few minutes.

"Well?" asked Poppy anxiously.

Rose shook her head. "They haven't been able to diagnose her with anything. They're stumped. Either Rachel's faking it or—"

"Or what?" Poppy and I said together.

"Or it's not natural at all. I think what's happening to Rachel is supernatural, and the best hospital in the world can't cure that."

"We do know that there's a psionic vampire in town," Poppy said. "What you heard at the council meeting confirmed it."

"How do we trap a supernatural villain?" I said.

We stared at each other. It was a question that none of us had an answer for.

I sighed and put my hands in my pockets. I was wearing the hoodie I'd worn the night Ryan and I snuck into the morgue. The night he'd kissed me for the first time.

My hand touched something metal—the bracelet Samantha had given me. I pulled it out of my pocket and laid it on the table.

"Rachel had on a bracelet just like that," Poppy observed.

"Samantha gave them to all the girls on the squad," I said. "I don't like wearing it, though. It gives me the creeps. The ankh has a connection to vampirism. Right, Rose?"

"It can also represent life," Rose said skeptically.

I looked at the bracelet, more confused then ever.

"Are you saying you think Samantha Devereaux is the psionic vampire?" Poppy asked under her breath.

"Sometimes I think she could be," I admitted. "What if she's using these bracelets as some kind of energy conductor or something? She's always making sure we're wearing them. Maybe they help her get her soul fix."

Rose and Poppy looked doubtful.

"The vamp has to be someone who has access to the cheerleaders," I continued. "She's the head cheerleader, so she definitely has the opportunity."

"But what's her motivation?" Rose asked.

"I don't know," I said. "Beauty? Popularity?"

"Samantha's always been beautiful," Rose replied.

"Plus, she's already the most popular girl in school," Poppy pointed out. "And she's only a junior!"

I finally gave up. I couldn't even convince my own sisters that Samantha could be our vamp. "Well, who else could it be?" I asked, but nobody had any answers.

Flo finally arrived with our food. I bit into my deliciously greasy cheeseburger.

Rose picked daintily at her salad, but I noticed she slathered the onion rings with barbeque sauce and ranch dressing.

I glanced out the window and noticed a couple walking toward the police station. There was something about the back of the guy that looked familiar. Long legs, broad shoulders, and a few rebellious curls caressing the back of his neck. It was Ryan. With another girl. I couldn't tell who she was, but she wore a black cowboy hat.

I pushed away my cheeseburger. I wasn't hungry any longer. But I was pretty pissed off. It looked like Ryan was taking some other girl to the morgue. From what Officer Denton had said, it wasn't the first time.

Flo pulled up a stool. "Nothing better to do tonight than hang out here?" she said.

Poppy replied, through a mouthful of chili fries, "This is it. What's new with you?"

Flo thought for a minute. "I got nothin'." She snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute!" She fished a quarter out of her pocket and handed it to me. "Go play the jukebox."

"It's still here? I assumed Slim would have traded it in by now." I wasn't really concentrating on the conversation, but instead stared out the window and willed Ryan to reappear.

Flo shrugged. "It kind of grows on you. Some people like not knowing what it'll play next. Although it doesn't do it for everybody."

It had worked for me before, so I figured it would do it again. Besides, you know what they say, music soothes the jealous girlfriend. So I got up, put a quarter in, and looked at the selections. "Flo, I've never heard of half of these songs."

I selected an old Green Day song but was prepared when a different song came on instead.

"Is this thing defective?" Poppy asked.

"Nope," Flo said. "I'm pretty sure it's doing it on purpose."

"What's the name of this song?" I asked Flo.

"This song is 'Heartbreaker' by Pat Benatar. It seems to be trying to tell you something."

Great. Now even inanimate objects were sending me mixed messages. The last thing I needed to hear was a song about a guy breaking some girl's heart.

The bell above the door jangled, and then Ryan walked in with a gorgeous redheaded girl. This time, I heard the jukebox's message loud and clear.