Why does it have to feel so amazing to have your blood sucked out of your body by a hot, funny, sexy vampire poet? Here's what it's like: my body is totally relaxed; my limbs feel like I've just gotten back from a transoceanic swim. My heart is pumping hard. His body is cool next to mine. And the spot where his fangs are piercing my neck is the center of my universe. It feels like pure energy and attraction.
So when he pulls away after just a few seconds, I scream nooooo! Don't stop! in my head and grab for him, but all I get is air. Because of Pickles' spell, I can't even see him, and he's clearly used his evil vampiric abilities to jump away from me at high speed. Sometimes I really hate vampires! "More!"
I hear a totally sexy deep-throated laugh from ten feet away. "No, Waverly. I know you want me to drink all of your delicious mermaid blood, but I'd like to keep your circulatory system up and running to manufacture more of the tasty treat."
"You are so—"
"Arrogant?"
"Yes, how did you ... know?" Ugh, right, I totally forgot what it was like having him in my head—utter, intrusive, mortification.
"Sorry, Wave. It's just for the sake of this ill-conceived spy mission. I don't know what you think we're going to find out at a dinner party, but we better go now before Pickles' spell wears off. Fairy godmothers really need to get their act together. Why don't they concentrate on improving spell longevity? Seems like a fairly essential spell component."
I feel his arm snake around my waist, and his warmish lips press against mine. "Maybe you need just a tiny bit more blood?" I offer.
He blasts us into the sky, his laugh almost lost in the whistling of the wind as we shoot through the night sky.
Pierce brings us to the top cabin on the yacht where candlelight flickers from the windows. We touch down on the deck. Inside the cabin, Crumpet, Sharkweather, and Shelly are seated at one end of a long dark wood table. All down the center of the table are silver candelabras and elongated silver bowls filled with strange feral-looking fruits—some shaped like sea urchins, others with claws, spikes or tentacles. The walls are 'decorated' with stuffed leopards, hammerheads, and nurse sharks attached to rectangles of wood, like some sick art form. I swallow. Hard. There are wooden pillars with shark carvings at each corner of the room.
"I can barely hear them through the glass," Pierce says. "Must be vampire-proof glass."
It's so weird that I can't see Pierce—only the white hull he's standing in front of. But I notice a subtle rippling in the air where he must be. He takes my hand and squeezes. I really like this and not just because I need reassurance. I try not to think about the electric feeling of his strong, cool hand in mine because I don't want him to know.
"I already know, Wave," he whispers in my ear.
"Someday, Pierce, I am going to figure out how to read your thoughts, and then you are going down!" I whisper.
"All my thoughts are of your strength and beauty, Waverly. You are like a mountain draped in a cloak of snow, shimmering in winter's light."
You know, I think he uses poetry as a weapon, sort of the same way he uses those dimples of his. I melt every time. Must resist!
Pierce laughs softly. "Maybe I should take you back to school, if you're nervous?" he whispers.
"No! We have to get inside."
"Shhh!" he hisses. "Someone's coming."
Moments later, I hear wheels clicking over the wooden deck and the jangling of what sounds like glassware and dishes. A skinny guy in a tuxedo approaches, pushing a cart laden with food, and a fat guy in the same outfit is pushing a cart of drinks that includes a crystal decanter of red fluid. Urgh! What? Even though I've decided I like Pierce drinking my blood, that doesn't mean suddenly I enjoy seeing the stuff outside of a body. The carts stop, and all is silent as the skinny guy reaches a white-gloved hand toward the doorknob. The food smells unbelievably good. Oh, wow! I recognize that smell! Garlic. Yum. My stomach growls. Eels meals!
"What was that, Chum?" says the fat guy.
"I didn't hear anything," says Chum.
"Sounded like an animal."
Chum looks around. "I see nothing, Gurges. You really gotta stop drinking the boss's stash. Come on, let's go in before this food gets cold and the boss throws us overboard again. I can't afford another tux."
At least the spell seems to be working. Feeling slightly more confident, I hold my breath and pull Pierce into the room right behind Chum and Gurges.
"About time," hollers Brack Sharkweather. "Hard to get good help on a yacht these days."
"Dad, Gurges, and Chum are standing right here. They can hear you," Shelly says, rolling her eyes. I kind of respect her for calling out her dad and for her professional-grade eye-rolling.
Brack glares at Shelly. She is deliberately not looking him in the eye. She's in a long silver gown, and her waist-length golden-green hair is dry and limp.
Crumpet and Brack are also in tuxedos, which looks pretty funny on Crumpet. I've only just gotten used to seeing him in his plaid shirts and jeans. Crumpet looks right at the spot where Pierce and I are standing next to the door. The headmaster arches an eyebrow. My heart speeds up. Oh, no! Vampire senses! He can probably smell us or hear my heart pounding in my chest.
Pierce squeezes my hand. I think he's trying to tell me it'll be okay, but I'm ready to run out of there.
"Headmaster, would you like some O-negative de Virgin? I had it flown in from a French nunnery only this morning."
"Gross, Dad," Shelly shoots back, wrinkling her nose.
Crumpet looks away from Pierce and me and gives Sharkweather a tight smile. "Please."
Gurges pours some blood into Crumpet's goblet while I work on not gagging. Crumpet takes a sip. "Nice vintage."
Chum dishes up the food to Shelly and her dad—some kind of pasta with lobster, raw oysters, and seaweed salad. But after the virgin blood, I am totally not hungry anymore. Once Chum and Gurges finish serving, they stand at attention at the back of the room doing absolutely nothing. They look so bored.
"So what about my proposal to admit more merfolk to the school, Crumpet?" says Sharkweather. He picks up an oyster, slides it into his mouth, slurps, and swallows it whole.
"I'm not sure it's a good idea. We're already several weeks into the semester, and the students are bonding. I think it best if we wait and admit them next semester."
"I don't think you understand the scale of my contributions to your school, Headmaster," he spits.
"Oh, Brack, I understand, but I didn't realize the money came with strings attached. I thought the donations were altruistic."
Mr. Sharkweather laughs, low and amused. "I don't know the meaning of the word."
"Perhaps you should go back and complete your education."
Oh, snap.
"Watch yourself, vampire. I have friends in high places."
Crumpet glares. "Look, Sharkweather, I did what you asked with the Fishwater girl; I think I've held up my end of the bargain. But I will not admit any more merfolk this semester. I simply do not understand the urgency."
Mr. Sharkweather kicks Shelly under the table. She coughs and wipes her mouth on a white linen napkin. "Oh, Headmaster Crumpet. It is so lonely for me at the school."
Shelly sounds like she is reciting a speech, probably scripted by her father.
Crumpet narrows his blond eyebrows. "Really? Because it seems that you've made quite a few ... uh ... friends."
"I need to mingle with more of my own kind," she drones on. "There are several friends of mine from Pacifica that would make excellent additions to our school. I don't think it's fair that there are only two mermaids, and one of us is, well, you already know about Waverly Fishwater."
I want to tackle Shelly and push her face into the pasta. Pierce grabs me around my waist and keeps me firmly planted. I nearly screamed in surprise. I mentally chastise him for his idiocy, but instead of feeling bad, I can feel him smirking triumphantly against my neck. I subconsciously push against him, wanting him to take a bite. Oh, Poseidon, help me!
Shelly tucks her thumbs under her hair and scoops the mass over one shoulder, exposing her long, smooth neck. "I would be so grateful, Headmaster, if you could allow in more merfolk now rather than wait till next semester."
"I understand your situation, Shelly. But there are many students at West Marin Heights, and the whole idea of admitting diverse species this year is to integrate and learn about one another. I suggest you take this time to do so."
Sharkweather slurps another oyster and wipes his mouth with a white napkin. "I assure you we can donate enough money to quickly add accommodations for the new students. And perhaps a bonus for the Headmaster?"
Crumpet scowls and looks like he's about to drop his fangs. "Are you trying to bribe me, Sharkweather?"
"Don't act like you are innocent here, Crumpet," Sharkweather snarls. "We both know you've taken my money for months now."
"All of your money has gone into the school."
Sharkweather laughs again. "Whatever interpretation helps you sleep at night, Crumpet. Now ..."
Chum puts a hand to his ear and nods his head as if listening to someone speak. I notice a coiled wire going from Chum's ear down his neck. "Mr. Sharkweather?" says Chum.
"What is it?"
"Uh, well, it seems there is a problem in the engine room that needs your personal attention. Immediately."
Fear flashes across Sharkweather's face. There must be something truly horrible in the engine room.
Crumpet stands so fast I don't even see him move. "I was about done here anyway. Good night, Mr. Sharkweather. Shelly."
"I'm not done with you," says Sharkweather. "Remember, I have evidence that could get you fired. Your little favor with the Fishwater girl only goes so far in exchange for all I've done for you."
"I did that for her protection, not for you, Sharkweather. Sorry to have this discussion in your presence, Shelly, but it seems your father has insisted on involving you."
"It's okay, Headmaster. I'm used to people getting irate with Daddy."
"Shelly Scylla Sharkweather." There it is. All three names. Wait, Scylla? Isn't that a sea nymph who turns into a monster? Who would name their kid that?
Shelly rolls her eyes.
"I have no further business with you, Sharkweather. I shall leave you to your errand in the engine room."
Crumpet sweeps out of the dining cabin, totally staring at the spot where Pierce and I are standing. He must know we're here. But why didn't he tell Sharkweather of our presence if the headmaster is Sharkweather's accomplice? Are they working together? Listening in on their argument, I am beginning to wonder. But even if Crumpet didn't want to expose us, I did directly defy his orders, and now it will be obvious who was behind the theft of Iridessa's wand. No way am I letting Lily-Bella take the blame. Things just keep getting more complicated.
"Shelly, you stay here. I'll be right back to discuss your behavior. Men?"
Sharkweather, Gurges, and Chum file out of the dining room. Let's follow them, I think to Pierce. Him being able to read my mind turns out to be actually helpful. We head for the door, and we're almost home free when Shelly elects to ignore her father, gets up to leave, and is about to bump into us. Pierce lifts me and shoots us sideways across the room, leaving the door clear. He sets me down, my heart pounding.
To calm myself, I run my hand over the shark carvings as we wait for Shelly to exit. I swear one of the mounted sharks on the wall is watching me. But that's ridiculous. I'm invisible, and the mounted sharks have glass eyes. How can a place this beautiful be so creepy?
"Take my hand, and I'll guide you," Pierce whispers. "I can hear where they're headed. I think Shelly is following her father as well."
Pierce and I exit the room and quietly cross the deck. The air is thick and heavy, and the starlight is obscured by gray clouds. In the distance, I hear the high-pitched whine of a motorboat and the lonely bellow of a foghorn. Pierce leads me down some metal stairs, and I try to keep my steps from making any noise.
We descend several flights until we are in the bowels of the yacht. There is a loud hum and a vibration that makes my teeth chatter. It smells like burnt oil down here.
We get to the bottom where there is a passage lit with yellow light. Sharkweather, Gurges, and Chum move toward a bright open doorway at the end, the fall of their heavy boots echoing in the chamber. Who wears boots with a tuxedo? Weird. Shelly holds back until the men are through, then she conceals herself just outside the room, behind the door. I hold my breath, praying to Poseidon that the Camouflage Spell holds.
We make it past Shelly into what must be the engine room. But being here makes me nervous. If the spell wears off, we'll have to climb three flights of stairs to escape.
The vibration and thrum of the engine is loud, making it hard to think straight. It's so bright I have to squint. There are stainless-steel tubes snaking through the room, in the middle of which are two enormous twenty-foot-tall stainless steel tanks surrounded by gray equipment. The only color other than gray is the pair of red fire extinguishers, one at each end of the cavernous space.
Maybe you were right about this being a bad idea, I think to Pierce. We should get out of here.
He squeezes my hand, and I can tell we're not going anywhere for now. The men are in the back of the room in a tiny alcove on the other side of the drums. We stand right in front of the drums, so we can hear their conversation.
"Well, Sharkweather?" says a smooth, oily, eel-like voice I don't recognize. I try to get a better look, but apparently the guy is sitting down, and Sharkweather and his waiters/bodyguards are blocking my view.
"Sir. Let me explain," Sharkweather says, voice trembling.
"The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth is that you are bringing me a new delivery of merfolk. We are about to go national with our marketing campaign, and we are falling behind in production. I grow tired of your excuses."
"I am doing my best. Crumpet is resisting. I can't just bring more merfolk here without a reason. The Council is already delving into the previous disappearances. My sources tell me the royal family might get involved, and apparently they have sent a spy. I am being watched."
Disappearances? Spies? The royal family? What is going on? This is way bigger and more dangerous than I thought. Holy sea cow!
"At least get me that Fishwater girl."
I freeze. Who, me? Pierce is crushing my hand. Ouch! He lessens the pressure, but only slightly.
"It's not that easy, Sir. Her father has hired a vampire bodyguard, and he hardly leaves her side."
Hired a bodyguard? A vampire? What? Is Pierce only with me because my dad hired him? I nearly blow our cover, I am so angry. I yank my hand out of Pierce's grip. I'm so mad, I'm shaking. Pierce says nothing, even though he had to have heard every word in my head.
"I needn't remind you, Sharkweather, that you don't want to see me cross. You know what I am capable of."
"I will get you a merperson within the week."
"That's a start. Are you ready to pick up the next shipment for disposal in the cave?"
"Yes, we will be there tomorrow night. The cove beneath Pierce's Point."
"Don't blow this, Sharkweather. I've made you a very wealthy man. And if you want to see her again, alive, you know what you have to do."
"Yes, Sir."
See whom alive? What's happening?
I glance at the nearest stainless steel drum and see our reflection. Boy, do I look pissed! And Pierce looks scared and even paler than usual. Not that I care. Wait, why am I thinking about what we look like? No! Pierce, the spell has worn off! We have to get out of here!! Now! But how? Shelly Sharkweather is standing next to the only exit.
I let Pierce pull me down to hide behind the drum. I am still totally pissed, but if we're going to escape, I'll have to thrash him—I mean confront him—later. We're crouching just out of sight of Sharkweather and his goons. My heart is hammering. Pierce points to the door.
We're going to run? They'll see us! I think to Pierce.
"Why are you still here, Sharkweather?" asks the stranger with the oily voice.
"Now!" Pierce mouths.
He stands, scoops me up like I'm a human bride, and we zip across the room.