Sprat looked down at the button and beamed. “You want it?”

But before Vlad could insist that he wasn’t goth, Sprat had removed the button from his lapel and pinned it to Vlad’s shirt. Vlad nodded his thanks, but he wasn’t sure Sprat saw, as Sprat had all but run onto the dance floor.

October returned from the bar and thrust a plastic goblet into Vlad’s hand. The thick red liquid inside sloshed against the glass, almost spilling. Vlad sniffed, but it was hard to discern what he smelled in the glass. At first, he thought it might actually be blood, but then he realized that not only would that be ridiculous-after all, why would a human hand him a cup of blood?-but also that the scent of blood pumping furiously through veins as the teens danced behind him was throwing off his sense of smell. He took a sip. It was sugary sweet, and nothing at all like blood, except for its appearance. Vlad wrinkled his nose but drank it anyway. He didn’t want to be rude.

Kristoff lounged on the couch across from him, one leg flung over the lap of a very pretty girl with raven black hair and pale china skin. The girl shoved his leg away and leaned forward, smiling at Vlad. “You have such lovely eyes.”

Vlad swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. He’d never been smooth at taking compliments. “Uh, thanks.”

She extended a hand, her silver bracelets clinking together on her wrist. “I’m Snow.”

Vlad took her hand in his, and the moment their skin touched, he inhaled a whiff of her scent, the blood pumping through her veins. It was almost dizzying. He managed a smile. “Cool name.”

Snow smiled, parting her burgundy lips. “ Thanks.”

Vlad took another drink of the red, slushy liquid, hoping to distract himself from the delectable scent of Snow’s blood. It was almost irresistible. AB negative, he was certain.

As if tiring of not being the center of attention, Kristoff eyed Vlad with an air of indifference, and said, “Just so you know, I’m a vampire.”

Vlad nearly spit out a mouthful of “blood” and resisted the urge to laugh. Kristoff was no more a vampire than Principal Snelgrove.

Kristoff opened his mouth, revealing pretty realistic fangs-they’d probably been made by a professional costumer. They were impressive. But not real.

Vlad dropped his eyes momentarily to his glass, suddenly cautious of the strange feelings that were boiling up within him. He was tempted to reveal that he was one too.

He mulled over the idea, all the while sipping the sickly sweet concoction that October had given him. On one hand, he knew that Kristoff was pretending. On the other, he had an edge, an insight to what vampires were really like-not to mention the urge to one-up the guy who seemed to think he was so much better than everyone else. Besides, as far as Kristoff knew, Vlad was pretending too. Trying hard not to think about possible repercussions, Vlad forced himself to swallow and met Kristoff’s serious gaze with a knowing smirk. “ Then we have more in common than I thought.”

Snow grinned and moved from Kristoff’s side to Vlad’s. The scent of her was maddening. “I knew it! The moment I saw you, I was all ‘That guy’s a vampire.’ How long have you been playing?”

Playing? Vlad blinked. He had absolutely no clue what she was talking about, but if she didn’t keep her distance, he was going to make a seriously bad first impression. Vlad scooted over half a cushion. The distance wasn’t much, but it was something. “For as long as I can remember.”

“Liar.” Kristoff’s voice was low, but ragged. He glared at Vlad, then looked aghast at the rest of the group. “What? He’s clearly lying. Vampire: The Masquerade has only been in existence for like a decade.”

As if a lightbulb had flickered on over his head, Vlad relaxed. “Oh, I don’t play that game. I’m just… well, a bloodsucking monster. You know.”

Snow smiled brightly. October and the others were all looking at Vlad as if he were the coolest person on the planet. Kristoff sulked.

It didn’t matter that they were pretending, that they didn’t really believe that they were in the presence of a real, actual vampire. What mattered was that he had confessed, had come out with the truth, and not one of them-well, except for Kristoff, but he didn’t count-had balked at the idea. Rather than fear him, they seemed to respect him. Even if it wasn’t real to them, it meant a lot to Vlad.

Snow and October exchanged glances-they seemed to be speaking in that weird telepathic way girls have. Vampires might be good at carrying on conversations with their minds, but all of Elysia couldn’t hold a candle to the female population.

The girls each grabbed one of Vlad’s hands and dragged him out to the dance floor. Horrific images of spinning in slow circles at school dances flitted through his mind and Vlad dug his heels into the floor, shaking his head emphatically, but it was useless. They tugged harder until finally he was immersed in the crowd on the dance floor. The music was a heavy techno with bass so loud that Vlad could feel it pounding in his chest. As if in response, his pulse began to race.

Snow put her arms in the air, swaying slowly even though the music was pretty fast in tempo. October moved her feet like crazy and jumped up and down. Vlad closed his eyes and listened to the incredible blend of music, chatter, and beating hearts. If he listened close enough, he could almost make out the rushing of blood through veins. With a smile, and his eyes still closed, Vlad danced to his own music.

A long, long time later-Vlad couldn’t tell just how long, as the music and the blood seemed to pump nonstop-he opened his eyes and realized he was having the time of his life. He grinned at October, who grinned back, and then he shouted, “ This place is so cool! Do you think next time I could bring Henry?”

October burst out laughing. “Henry McMillan? I don’t think he’d like it like you do, Vlad.”

Vlad yelled over the music, “Why not?”

“Because you’re goth and he’s not.” She shook her purple-streaked head. “He wouldn’t get it.”

Vlad’s feet slowed to a stop. “But I’m not goth.”

Both Snow and October stopped in their tracks and stared at him. “Wow, Vlad!” Snow shouted. “You’re so goth you don’t even know you’re goth.”

Vlad shook his head, bewildered. “I’m gonna take a break, okay?”

The girls nodded, and Vlad headed back to the couch, where Kristoff sat scowling into a goblet of the syrupy red “blood” mixture. Vlad took a seat across from him but didn’t say anything. He had a strong feeling that Kristoff didn’t care very much for his company.

Kristoff met Vlad’s gaze. “Don’t you have better things to do than go slumming with us?”

Vlad raised an eyebrow. “Did I do something to offend you? I wasn’t aware we hated each other.”

“Just stay out of my way. And keep away from October.”

Sudden realization hit Vlad, and he smiled inwardly. Kristoff had a thing for October and thought Vlad was trying to edge his way in. He couldn’t have been more wrong. “It’s not like that, man. I have a girlfriend.”

Kristoff grew very quiet. Subdued. Almost calm. After several minutes, they were joined by a girl who looked like a china doll. Kristoff stood when she approached and took her hand in his. “Ah… dinner has arrived.”

Vlad couldn’t imagine biting through all that makeup just to get to her veins, but hey… whatever does it for you.

Then Kristoff swept the girl into his arms and, once she moved her hair to the side, he bit her on the neck. The fangs weren’t real. Vlad knew that much. But seeing something that resembled his own fangs sinking into flesh-not breaking skin, but biting nonetheless-sent Vlad’s fangs shooting from his gums, and suddenly it was all he could do not to rip the girl from Kristoff’s arms and indulge in every last delicious drop of her. Vlad clutched the couch cushion and forced his eyes away.