Royal Blood (Vampire Kisses 6)

I half expected to see a detached hand holding out a letter. This was, after all, a vampire's mailbox. But I saw nothing,

"Are you afraid? It won't bite. But I might", he said, tickling me in the side.

"You promise?" I giggled as a few more drops of rain tapped me on the head. I imagined I could get snapped by a bird protecting its young or a field mouse hoping for a snack, I took a deep breath and reached my black chipped finger-nailed hand into the dark box but felt only aspiderweb . I reached in farther, allowing my ashen palm to disappear until I couldn't even see my Eve L wristband. Then I felt something pointy.

"It's not a package", I said, yanking it out. I had grasped a single standard-size black envelope.

I held it toward the streetlight. The letter lookedodd, First of all, there wasn't a stamp, or even a postmark. Perhaps I had been right about a fang-toothed flying mailman. In perfect beautiful silver calligraphy it read: MR. Alexander STERLING.

As I handed the envelope to my boyfriend, a few sprinkles of rain hit the letter and the ink began to run.

"Looks like I'll have to drive you home," he said resignedly.

Alexander tucked the letter into his jacket and took my hand and we raced up the mile-long driveway, escaping into the Mansion.

I stood in the foyer of the magnificent Mansion. Lavender wafted through the estate,A new portrait of me stared back, a substitute for one of the original portraits that once lined the hallway.

"There's no return address", I remarked, smoothing out my hair.

"I recognize the handwriting."

"Really?Then who is it from?A long-lost girlfriend?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"I bet you get millions of love letters from old girlfriends."

Alexander placed the envelope on a hallway table. "Wait here while I ask Jameson for his car keys."

"Aren't you going to open the letter?"

"Eventually."

Alexander was patient and disinterested. I was neither.

"You must tell me who it's from," I said, snatching his mail. "OrI'll open it," I teased.

Alexander paused. "It's from my parents."

"Really?"I asked, surprised.

It had been ages since Alexander's parents had been to Dullsville, and Alexander rarely spoke of them. Most of the time, I forgot they existed.

"Well, open it up," I pushed, handing it back to him. "Maybe they sent you a check."

Alexander took a white gold S-shaped letter opener lying on the hall table. Unlike me, who ripped open mail like a wild animal, Alexander carefully severed the envelope.

He opened the black letter, which had abloodred border. A check didn't fall out. Not even a Romanianleu .

Alexander began to read the letter to himself.

"What does it say?" I asked, bouncing around him and desperately trying to take a peek. But all I could make out was regal-looking letterhead with an inscription I couldn't decipher.

Alexander playfully held the letter out of my sight. But when he finished reading, he turned serious.

"What does it say?" I asked again.

Without answering, he put the letter in the envelope and returned it to the table. "I'll take you home now."

"What does it say?" I repeated.

"Nothing really."

"Your parents wrote to tell you nothing?"

"Uh-huh."

"Is everyone okay?"

"Yes."

"So why aren't you smiling?"

Then I thought maybe reading a handwritten note from them made him homesick. A creepy but kind butler wasn't a substitute for parents in a lonely old estate.

"I'm sure you miss them. I bet you wish you could see them soon."

"I will," he said. "They're arriving tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"I asked, shocked.

"Yes," Alexander said, almost melancholy. That means things are about to change.

I glanced around the Mansion. We felt like two teenswho'd trashed the house with a party only to find their parents were returning from their vacation early.

"Our 'coffin clutches' will have to end," I said.

Alexander nodded reluctantly.

"And my decorations will have to be removed."

"It looks that way."

"What about my drawer?"

"I found the dresser key," he said with a smile.

As Alexander closed the door behind us, I managed to catch a last glimpse of the black rose petals lying on the hallway table. The painting of me would have to be shelved and the original ones returned. The votives would have to be stored away.

One thing was for sure: This time Alexander, not Jameson, would have to clean up the Mansion.

Chapter 2 Backto School Blues

That night, I was torn as I sat cross-legged on my beanbag chair watching reruns ofTheMunsters , Though I was anxious to finally meet Alexander's parents, I was sad the black lace curtains were being closed on our independence.

I'd never felt more at home than I did hanging out in the Mansion with Alexander over the summer. It was a dream come true to get a taste of the vampire lifestyle.Waking up at sunset, celebrating the Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,darkness, living by candlelight. I was certain I could exist that way for an eternity.

But our summer of love was about to end.

Alexander was right. Things were about to change. His parents would be arriving shortly, and I'd be returning to school in a few days. No more late nights, no more remodeling the Mansion. Studying would replace painting, and I'd be home with my parents, Alexander with his.

I switched off my TV and joined my own odd relatives downstairs in our family room. My mom was foldinglaun -dry, and my dad was filing work papers.Typical suburban parents. The exact opposite, I was sure, of Alexander's. I wondered what Alexander's parents were like. Were they ghoulishly great like Herman and Lily Munster? I recalled storiesofDullsvillian sightings of theSterlings when they first moved to town, but I'd never caught a glimpse.

I was sure they had to be fantastic-everything my parents were not. Reading theTransylvanian Times instead of Dullsville'sLedger.Changing into bats instead of plaid golf pants.Resting in a coffin instead of a sleigh bed.I bet they were the coolest parents in the world-or Underworld.

"I'm finally going to meet Alexander's parents!" I burst out to Becky the next day atHatsy's Diner. When I slunk into the booth, Becky was flipping through the tabletop jukebox and sippinga strawberry malt. A chocolate one was kindly waiting for me.

Since summer began, Becky and I had both spent time with our true loves and not as much with each other. Though I did see her occasionally, we weren't as glued together as we'd been during past summers. I would have resented our separation if I didn't have a boyfriend, too. But since we were both guilty of trading lipstick for lip locks, it made it all right. I still missed my best friend and was excited to make up for lost time. I was in desperate need of some girl talk.