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my eyes can't follow. He's close, pressing his body against mine, his sour breath making me turn up my
nose. (Maybe the movie WAS right about horrid breath being a sign of a vamp.) He pushes my head to
the side, exposing my neck, and leans in, his fangs digging into my sensitive skin.
I cry in anguish as the pain shoots like lightning through my veins, burning with unquenchable fire. It's like
nothing I've ever felt. I grit my teeth and try desperately to remember Jareth's bite the sweetness, the
ecstasy but all I can feel now is the scorching heat, like it's boiling my blood. I swal-low hard, trying
with all my might not to cry. I don't want him to see that he has won. Even though I'm pretty sure he
al-ready knows.
At least it doesn't last long. He wrenches his fangs out of me and I can feel warm blood seeping down
my neck. It's gushing out and my hands are tied, so I can't put any pressure on it to stop it. For a
moment, I wonder if I'll bleed to death.
Maverick licks his crimson-stained lips. "I've always won-dered what a slayer tastes like. A lot sweeter
than I ex-pected." He pulls a vial out of his pocket and screws off the eyedropper cap. Squeezing a small
amount of the vial's liquid into the dropper, he walks back over to me.
When I realize what he's about to do, I try to struggle, make my neck as difficult to reach as possible.
But being chained, I don't have much leeway. He manages to empty the contents of the dropper into my
gaping neck wound.
"There," he says, stepping back. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"
"What did you do?" I ask through gritted teeth.
"Hm, for a slayer you're not all that bright," he com-ments. "You've been infected with the virus, of
course. In three days, you will die." He pats me on the shoulder. "And no, there is no magical antidote
like you always see in the movies."
I'm suddenly cold, my heart slamming against my rib cage as reality sinks in. Oh, my god. I'm going to
die. In three days, I'll be dead. I'll never make it to eighteen. I'll never graduate from high school. I'll
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never see my mother or sister or Spider again. I'll never see Jareth again.
"But don't worry, love," Maverick says. "I'm not going to keep you chained here for your last days.
You'll be free to go." He motions to the two guards standing at the door's en-trance. "Guards, release
her," he says. "And escort her out."
Well, that was something, at least. I guess. I could say my good-byes. Hug my mother and sister one
more time. I won-der if my dying days would be enough motivation for Dad to come by for a visit. I
suppose if it didn't conflict with Bratty Stepchild #2's baseball schedule, I might have a chance.
Tears threaten to fall again and I bite down hard on my lower lip to stop it from quivering. I must stay
strong. Let him think I'm fearless. Don't give him the power of seeing me weak.
The guards unlock my arms from their shackles and I gratefully get up from the chair. Maverick is still
grinning maniacally at me, so very pleased with himself.
"They will crown me Master of the Coven," he crows. "When they learn I was the one who took down
the slayer."
I stare at him, suddenly realizing exactly what I have to do. He's underestimating me. Underestimating
who I am. I'm not just any old sniveling girl who will go quietly into the night to lick my wounds. I am the
Slayer. The one chosen once in a generation to kill evil vampires.
I have a destiny. And it's time to fulfill it.
I close my eyes for a moment, searching for the strength I need. Concentrating, as Teifert told me I
could. Trying to be Zen and all that.
And then I find it. Something lying dormant, deep inside of me. Almost like a big ball of light, straining
against its chains, dying to be released. I squeeze my eyes and channel that light with all that I have inside
me and suddenly I ex-plode with energy and power.
I open my eyes. I am the slayer. Here me roar.
A quick roundhouse kick takes out one of the guards. The other I head butt and then kick in the groin as
he's reeling backward. I'm punching and kicking so hard, so fast, I'm not quite sure where my body ends
and my target begins. It's like I'm on some kind of superhero autopilot.
And let me tell you, it rocks!
Having knocked out both guards I turn to Maverick. He's standing there, backed up against the wall,
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