Chapter Nineteen

Finally, Saturday arrived. The big homecoming game. I stood there on the field shivering in my cheerleading uniform. Despite the cold, Samantha looked radiant.

I had never been a huge fan of football before, but one look at Ryan in his football jersey and I was hooked. After about a month on the cheerleading squad, I had finally figured out some basics. Sean threw the ball, Ryan caught the ball, and Wyatt Pearson tackled anyone who got in their way.

Truthfully, I'd never even been to a football game before becoming a cheerleader. Still, I felt a secret thrill when Ryan ran forty-five yards for a touchdown. The crowd roared its approval.

I turned to Sam. "That's good, right?"

Penny smirked, but Sam smiled. "That's great, Daisy," she said.

I did a triple cartwheel and then ended with splits.

We were playing the San Carlos Squids, and we absolutely clobbered them. The game ended with a 21…14 victory for the Sea Monsters.

After the game, the cheerleaders hustled to Samantha's house to prepare for the dance. The Devereaux house was palatial by Nightshade standards. I had been there tons of times back in middle school. But this time, something was different. Like a significant lack of furniture.

The Devereauxs' great room was a hugely imposing space that used to be decorated with leather sofas, oriental rugs, and enormous mahogany bookcases. The room seemed even bigger without the bookcases. The walls were faded in the places where paintings used to hang.

"We're redecorating," Samantha said. "Now, quit gawking so we can get busy."

She led us all upstairs to get ready. I noticed with amusement that her bedroom, unlike her wardrobe, hadn't changed. It was still frilly and pink.

"I don't know why they have to have the dance the same night as the game," Penny complained. "It doesn't give us enough time to get ready." She seemed so low energy lately. Even though we weren't the best of friends, I still worried her soul was slowly being drained by the vamp. If she had a soul, that is. She hadn't shown much evidence of one.

"It's tradition," Samantha said. "So the players have something to look forward to if they lose."

"Fortunately, we won," I said. "But a slow dance isn't much of a consolation."

"So says the innocent," Samantha said knowingly.

As I pulled on my dress, I listened to the other girls discussing what they hoped to do with their dates later that night. It made me nervous. I wondered what Ryan expected.

"How are you and Wyatt getting along?" Mari Lopez asked Jordan as they applied their makeup in Samantha's vanity mirror.

"All right," Jordan answered indifferently. She giggled and added, "But he has more hands than an octopus."

"Slug him," I suggested.

"What for?" she said, staring at me vacantly.

Samantha offered to do my hair and makeup. Since she always looked like she was ready for a formal dance, I figured she'd do a better job than I would. An hour later, I had been poked, prodded, and powdered into perfection. Or at least as close to perfection as I was going to get. Samantha had tamed my unruly hair into a crown of curls and did my makeup with an expert hand.

"Wow," I said when I saw my reflection. "Thanks, Samantha."

"Don't mention it," she said. "I can't wait to see Ryan's face when he sees you."

"What time is it?" Penny asked, shaking a bottle of black nail polish. "Do I have time to redo my manicure?"

"Not unless that's the quick-drying stuff," said Alyssa, glancing down at her wristwatch. "The guys will be here to pick us up in an hour."

Alyssa," Samantha said, "why aren't you wearing the bracelet I gave you?"

Alyssa looked sheepish. "Sorry, Samantha, it clashed with my dress."

Samantha surveyed the wrists of the other cheerleaders in the room. I was the only one wearing my ankh bracelet, and truthfully, it was only because I didn't really have any other nice jewelry that would complement my dress.

Samantha became flustered and bitchy all over again. "Daisy, can you please stop staring at yourself in the mirror? I've got to put on my own makeup. Why don't you go put on some music?"

She elbowed me out of her way. I put my hands on my hips. "Samantha—" I started to say more, but she interrupted me.

"Please, Daisy, please put on some music," she said. "I'm sorry I'm bossing you around. I'm just nervous."

I had no idea what Samantha had to be nervous about. She would surely steal the show when she walked into the homecoming dance in that sexy little black number she was wearing. I walked over to her CD rack and rifled through her collection. I spotted an old Hillary Duff CD, circa sixth grade, that I thought would get a few laughs, at least. Everyone was taking this dance way too seriously.

"Not this, Daisy," Samantha snapped. "If I wanted to listen to kiddie pop, I'd go hang out at the elementary school."

I suppressed a sigh and handed Jordan a stack of music. "Maybe you can find something," I said.

I stormed downstairs. I needed to bang some pots and pans or something. It was either that or strangle our hostess. Samantha could be such a pain sometimes.

I usually cooked when I was upset. And I was upset, but the Devereaux kitchen soothed me. It was amazing, at least to a foodie like me. The kitchen was all granite countertops, maple cupboards, and gleaming stainless-steel appliances.

Too bad there were only a few eggs, some questionable-looking cheese, and a stale loaf of bread in the state-of-the-art fridge. I decided I'd make myself an omelet while the other girls finished their dance preparations. It was better than being bossed around by Samantha upstairs.

I rummaged through the cupboards until I found a mixing bowl and utensils. When I was looking for a spatula, I also found a stack of past-due bills. What were they doing hidden there? The Devereauxs were rich, weren't they? Were they in trouble?

I was puzzling over it when suddenly I spotted something much more interesting poking out from underneath the bills. It was a crumpled photocopy of an old newspaper article. And sure enough, there was the photo. Ryan was right—the woman in the photo looked exactly like Miss Foster. My blood ran cold as I slowly realized what this meant. Samantha must have been the one who attacked Ryan for the article. Was she covering for Miss Foster? Or was Sam herself a vamp?

Before I could figure it out, Samantha burst into the kitchen. "Daisy, I just want to apologize—" she started, and then stopped dead when she saw I was holding the article in my hands. "I can explain," she said.

"Well then you'd better start," I said, taking a step back toward the sliding-glass door to the patio in case she was going to take this opportunity to come after me and suck my soul.

"Look, Daisy, I've known for a while there was something weird going on with Miss Foster, and what I heard from you and your sisters and Ryan that night I was at your house just confirmed it," Samantha said. "I left your house early the next morning because I wanted to get to school before her so I could search her office. I found that article crumpled up in her trash can."

I looked at her skeptically. "Then why didn't you tell me? Or someone else? How could you just sit back and continue to let her suck souls?"

"I didn't know exactly what she was doing," Samantha protested. "All I knew is that cheerleaders were getting sick and it seemed to be related to her. But I knew if I told someone I'd just sound crazy, and they'd probably send me to the school therapist again."

"Again?" I hadn't been aware Sam had any mental problems. Attitude problems, maybe.

Sam nodded. "There have been some, um, issues with my family lately," she said. I could tell she didn't want to talk about it. I'd have to grill her about it later. "That's why I just thought it would be better to keep my mouth shut. You and your sisters have each other. You even have psychic powers. You're much better equipped to handle the situation than I am."

I was about to protest that I didn't have psychic powers, but then I remembered what had happened when I was preparing dinner the other night. For now, I'd just hope that wasn't a fluke.

I looked down at the article again. My hands were still shaking. "Well, now that we have proof that Miss Foster is going around attacking people, we have to tell someone," I said.

"How about your mom?" Sam suggested. "She'll know what to do."

I nodded. "She's on her way over here to take pictures of us before the dance. We'll tell her everything then."

Suddenly Sam's eyes widened. "Chelsea?" she said. "What is she doing here?"

I whirled around. There was the baby vamp, standing outside on the Devereaux patio. I flung open the sliding-glass door and approached her slowly.

"Oh, Chelsea," I said. The fear left me and I walked toward her. "I can take you home," I coaxed.

She took a step back and shook her head, but I could see the yearning in her eyes.

"I can help you."

She shook her head again and then vaulted over the fence.

I didn't go after her. I really couldn't have if even I wanted to, not in three-inch heels and an evening gown.

"What the hell was that?" Samantha shrieked.

"I'll explain later," I said. "Right now we have to warn the other girls there's a vampire in the vicinity."

We rushed upstairs. But to my horror, Samantha's bedroom was empty. Lip glosses and curlers lay scattered about. The cheerleaders were gone.

I went back downstairs as fast as my dyed-to-match pumps would carry me, with Samantha following close behind. Sure enough, the front door was wide open. I caught up to them at the end of Samantha's driveway. There was a line of cheerleaders walking down the street in the direction of the high school. Some of them were barefoot, and all of them had glazed, unfocused looks in their eyes.

Sam and I fell into step behind the last cheerleader and tried to replicate their vacant stares. Evidently, our destination was the high school. Moonlight cast strange shadows across the big double doors. I took a deep breath and entered after the other girls.

The corridors, which should have been full of people rushing around and preparing for the big dance, were eerily empty. We headed for the gym. It was decorated with streamers and balloons. The girls in front of me lined up like they were getting ready to execute a routine. I fell into formation and waited, my heart beating rapidly, for the vamp to appear.

I started to shiver when I sensed a malignant presence. Then I was slipping into the vampire's mind.

I didn't mean to, but it just happened. Kind of like accidentally bumping into someone else's brain. It was like slipping into a sewer, black and foul. I sensed fear, loneliness, and incredible hunger. Hunger that would never be satisfied.