We left Club Fang. I drove since Rayne had come with Jareth and had no car of her own. Which wouldn’t have been a big deal except that her directions were terrible and she kept flipping through my satellite radio, searching for a particular station that I wasn’t sure, by the end of the trip, even existed. She talked a lot, too. Mostly about her feelings for the characters and storylines in my book. That said, she didn’t expect much of a response from my end. Which was good, seeing as I was so distraught I could barely drive, never mind argue plot points with an obsessive fan.

All I could think of was Logan. Where he was. What he had bargained. If he was okay. If he was still even alive. Well, vampire alive anyway. Would I ever see him again? Would he ever hold me in his arms, stroking my hair? Whispering in my ear. Telling me everything would be okay.

It was funny; I had been alone for so long. And I had never minded the solitude. But now, thinking of a lifetime without Logan seemed interminable torture.

We had to find him. We just had to.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, we pulled up outside a dark, spooky looking mansion in a desolate part of town. I tried not to shiver as I took in the creeping ivy, the dark windowpanes, the crumbling brick. It screamed horror movie waiting to happen and I couldn’t imagine what we’d find inside.

“Is this where the bad vampires live?” I asked. It definitely seemed appropriate.

But Rayne shook her head. “Nope!” she replied with a laugh. “This is Slayer, Inc.’s HQ. I wanted to grab some supplies before we bust into the vampire’s den. Also,” she added, giving my dress a pointed look. “You need to change. That dress may be amazeballs, but it’s not exactly ‘save the day’ attire.”

“Right,” I said, feeling a little disappointed. Not that I minded changing—she was totally right about the outfit being impractical. But I wanted to get this show on the road. After all, who knew what they were doing to Logan in the meantime. He could be suffering. His life could be in danger. While I was distracted by a costume change.

If only I had the ability to do the Superman in a phone booth trick. Though, of course, I wasn’t sure there were any phone booths left in the world these days to do it in.

And so I followed Rayne out of the car and into the creepy mansion. Which didn’t get any less creepy once we were inside. The place was dark and there didn’t seem to be anyone there. Rayne explained it wasn’t really the kind of place people lived—more of an office—and at the moment everyone was either off for the night or out on assignment.

We headed for a small office at the far end of the hall. When we got to the door, Rayne reached into her purse and pulled out what appeared to be a lock pick rather than a key. I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you worked here,” I said.

She shrugged. “I do. Well, I mean, I did. I guess I’m sort of a consultant nowadays. Since I’m so busy helping Jareth run the Blood Coven and all.”

“A consultant without a key?” I queried.

“Dude, do you want to save your boyfriend or not?” she demanded, straightening back up. I sighed.

“He’s not really my boyfriend,” I started. She gave me a glare. I held up my hands. “Yes, I want to save him,” I corrected.

She nodded and went back to her work. A moment later the door sprang open, revealing a small, nondescript office. Well, except for the far wall—which was basically an armory of fancy weapons I’d previously only seen on TV. From shining axes to weird polearms to crazy crossbows straight out of The Walking Dead. There were even a few guns—some of them semi-automatic.

I gave a low whistle. “And here I thought you guys just used wooden stakes,” I remarked, walking over to the wall.

“Yeah, well, that’s sort of the old school way,” Rayne admitted. “And honestly, it’s still the best. These toys are fun to use, but they complicate things. And they don’t fit well in handbags.” She walked over to the wall and pulled down a wooden stake I hadn’t noticed at first glance. She held it out to me.

I stared down at it, nerves creeping through me. “Oh,” I said. “I don’t know if I could stake someone…”

“No? Well, we could always go back to the Blood Coven and wait for the boys to save the day,” Rayne said in a syrupy sweet voice. “If that’s what you prefer?”

I sighed and took the stake. “Fine.”

“Actually, I think thank you was the word you were looking for,” she grumbled as she grabbed a few weapons for herself, including that crossbow and another stake. Then she walked over to a wardrobe on the right side wall and pulled it open, rummaging through the rack of clothes inside until she found a long-sleeve black t-shirt and jeans that looked around my size. I took them from her, feeling relived she wasn’t going to make me go full-on goth for this mission.

I had just finished changing when we heard the noise. Rayne froze, giving me a worried look.

“Shit,” I heard her mutter under her breath. “Busted.”

“Busted?” I repeated. “But I thought--”

She put her hand over my mouth. Then, in one fluid motion, she shoved me into the wardrobe. I tried to protest, but she gave me a warning look, then shut the door behind me. A moment later I heard someone step into the room.

“Rayne!” the man’s voice said, sounding disapproving. “What the hell are you doing here this late?” He paused, then added, “And in Spider’s office, I might add.”

“Aww, T-Dogg! It’s so good to see you again, too!”

“I told you. Do not call me T-Dogg. Also, I just saw you last night. Why are you here again?”

“Sorry Mr. Teifert. And yeah, it’s so strange right? I just can’t seem to get enough of this place. In fact, I’ve been thinking of going back to slaying full time.”

“You know the board would never allow you back. Not after last time.”

“Oh my God, it was one little house fire! And so not even my fault!”

“House fire? You nearly burned down half the town!”

“Hey! It’s not my fault you didn’t train me on that cool fire stick thing. I mean Spider got one her first day on the job! And I was stuck with a stupid stake.”

“Rayne, you’re changing the subject. Why are you here?”

I bit my lower lip, praying she had an answer. One that would satisfy this Teifert guy—whoever he was. The closet was cramped and it didn’t have very good airflow. I wasn’t sure how long I’d last in here. Not to mention we were wasting precious time. Logan was out there, somewhere. Probably being tortured. We had to get a move on and soon.

My heart thudded in my chest as I thought of Logan. Would we reach him in time? Would he be okay? Would he be angry that I had come to rescue him when clearly he had done everything in his power to keep me out of this? To keep me safe?

I shook my head. No. He didn’t get to make that decision. After all, Jonathan tried to pull that shit with Maisie all the time. That big, bad hero stuff where the guy went all sacrificy on himself to save the girl. But in my books, that never worked out. The girl always saved herself. And, often the guy, too. That was one of the things my fans loved about the books. What I loved about Maisie.

And tonight, I was Maisie. Maybe no longer in her fancy dress, but I was her. And I was going to save Logan. No matter what risk I had to take for myself.

I turned back to the conversation happening outside the wardrobe. Rayne didn’t sound like she was doing too well talking her way out of this. And the guy was getting angrier and angrier by the moment.

And, to make matters worse, I was about to sneeze.

I tried to hold it in. I breathed hard through my mouth, pinched my nose with two fingers. But the fibers of one of the coats had entered my nasal passages and the tickling was too severe. A moment later I sneezed. Hard, loud.

“What was that?” Teifert demanded. “You have someone in the closet?”

“Oh for God’s sake!” Rayne swore.

The wardrobe door jerked open. An older man stood on the other side, with wild salt and pepper hair and dark eyes. He stared at me, confused for a moment. Then his eyes widened in recognition.

He turned to Rayne. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. “I knew you were a fan! But this--”

“It’s not what it looks like!” Rayne blurted out.

“You didn’t lock your favorite author in a closet?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, that part. But she came willingly. I swear. She was just…changing clothes when you walked in. And she didn’t want you to see her naked.”

Teifert glanced at me. I gave him a helpless shrug. “Nice to meet you?” I tried.

He grunted. Rayne gave him a big smile. He raked a hand through his already messed up hair.

“I am too old for this shit,” he muttered. Then he turned to Rayne. “The next time I catch you in here, I will bring it up with the board. This is not your office anymore. It belongs to Spider. You have to start respecting that.”

Rayne sighed. “Yes, Mr. Teifert,” she said. “I was just excited to show my new friend all the cool slayer toys. She’s researching, you know? For her next book?”

“Sure,” Teifert said. Then he turned to me. “Well, enjoy the rest of your tour.” He paused, then added. “And, hey, if you ever need inspiration for a dashing vampire slayer character, well…” He winked. “I’d be happy to--”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll totally be in her next book. And she won’t even kill you off. But we’ve got to go.” Rayne grabbed me by the arm and started yanking me toward the door. “By Teif. See you soon!”

And with that, we dashed out of the Slayer Inc. mansion, back to my car. When we got inside, Rayne leaned back in the passenger seat in relief.

“I thought we were totally busted!” she cried.

“Me too.” I glanced back at the manor. “Though I left my dress in there.”

“I’ll get it later,” she assured me. “You won’t need it where we’re going.”

“And where are we going?” I questioned, realizing I still had no idea where these big, bad vampires made their home.

Rayne grinned. “Get the motor running and you’ll see.”