Deadly Offer by Caroline B. Cooney Page A

night.
    Night …
    There had been a conversation about night …
    What had she agreed to do at night?
    Althea’s hair lifted from her scalp, as if the vampire were running his horrid fingers through it, his tarnished foil nails scraping her scalp. Her spine hurt.
    I invited Becky to spend the night on Saturday, she thought. I forgot Becky. I forgot her as quickly and easily as I decided to forget Celeste and Jennie. It’s as if I have already given Becky away. So that I can keep Constance.
    Horror filled Althea like quicksand, pulling her down the hill, hauling her body by evil gravity toward the shutters.
    Toward the vampire.
    Toward the end of Becky.

Chapter 14
    T HERE WAS SO MUCH to be afraid of!
    Herself, and her capacity to do evil things. The vampire, and his presence, the way he was changing her.
    The future, and what she chose.
    The friends she had, and how she would hurt them. Or hurt herself.
    And this: driving Ryan home. Alone with a boy in a car.
    The dark of night was a capsule around them. The interior of the car was their world. How much less relaxed they were, without Michael and Constance to dilute their emotions. They had been a group: easy laughter, easy talk. Ryan’s hand rested lightly on her shoulder as she drove, and his fingers for a moment touched her hair.
    The touch spooked her, and she suppressed a shudder.
    She could feel the vampire behind her, thinking of her, planning for her, waiting.
    Up and over yet another hill she drove.
    When she came down the other side, a mass of soil and rock blocked the vampire. It was impenetrable. His dark path could not go that far; she could feel in her ribs, her spine, the flesh of her back, that they had reached some kind of safety.
    She knew, as firmly as she knew her numbers and her alphabet, that the vampire could not pierce the hill.
    Althea heaved a great sigh of relief. It was so huge that Ryan jumped away from her, startled, jerking his hand back and staring at her.
    “Sorry,” she said lamely. “I—I guess I don’t drive much after dark, and I—I guess I’m kind of tired. So I sighed.”
    Ryan found that a difficult excuse to accept. “It’s okay,” he said stiffly. “Just drop me off and go straight home. You probably have lots of homework anyway.”
    She had a sense that she was losing him, that he was fading away from her as fast as daylight had faded on this wintry afternoon. She caught his hand to yank him back. “No, no,” she protested. “I’m just really not that much of a driver.”
    He believed her. How amazing. If some dumb girl said that to Althea, she certainly would have some questions. What American teen ever said or believed for a single moment that he or she was a lousy driver? Nobody. Everybody on earth believes they’re an excellent driver. Everybody on earth takes pride in their brilliant driving skills.
    But Ryan believed her.
    Did the vampire make him? she thought. How much power does the vampire really have? Can he actually invade my friends’ thoughts?
    Of course he can. Or he wouldn’t make them my friends.
    A gruesome thought invaded Althea. Had the vampire been giving Ryan instructions? Touch her. Smile at her. Take her hand.
    She had to ask the vampire next time she saw him; she had to know how much of this was real. Does it count if he makes it happen? she thought. What if I find out it’s not for real? Will I still be thrilled to see Constance smile, and have Ryan hug me and Michael say my name?
    Ryan lived in a ranch-style house. His driveway was paved, not gravel like hers. It seemed firmer, more modern, less likely to harbor things.
    “Want to come in?” said Ryan.
    “I’d love to another day,” she said, “but I have to get home.” She kissed him. She was absolutely astounded at herself. Where had that courage come from?
    Ryan, startled and pleased, kissed her back.
    They laughed and kissed a second time, breathless and surprised in their sharing. Althea drove away into the night, so full of