Abigail Rath Versus Bloodsucking Fiends

“Not really.” Ned eased out a smooth plastic card. He jiggled it in the edge slowly, and worked the plastic between the latch and the door. He handed me the card.
“This is your driver’s license.”
“My learner’s permit,” said Ned.
“Ah. Little Ned keeps his permit.”
“Next time, Abby, you pick your own lock.”
By the time we’d returned to the scene, Mom and Mr. Cooper had caught up with Vince and some mall paramedics. Ned and I edged our way to the front of the small but curious back corridor crowd. Vince looked up at us.
“It wasn’t Ned,” Vince croaked from his sitting position on the floor.
“I don’t care who it was!” Well, I did. “Are you okay?”
Mom raised an eyebrow that communicated that classic question every vampire hunter asks her daughter at the mall: “Where were you?”
I pointed at Ned and Mom nodded. She should now feel vindicated if she decided never to go to the mall again. The mall, where all the vampires hang out. Vince did a great job pretending he had been mugged for the paramedics. Mr. Cooper filled out an accident report. After, we all headed to the parking ramp.
“Abigail,” said Mom, “you went after it? The vampire?”
“No ma’am,” said Ned. “I did. I went through the fire door.”
Woah. Why would Ned cover for me? There had to be some ulterior motive, like winning my trust for a nefarious purpose later on.
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “What were you doing here?” Good job, Mom. My question exactly.
“Keeping an eye on Charlie and the kid.”
“You expected a vampire at the mall?”
I expect a vampire everywhere, but I didn’t say that out loud.
Ned shoved his hands in his pockets. “Call it instinct.”
“Did you see it?” Mr. Cooper asked. “Catch it?”
“I saw it,” I said. “It sped past me after Vince put the smackdown on it. What did you use to make it run away
like that?”
Vince held up his wrist. The yellow plastic of a What Would Jesus Do bracelet.
“That’s cool,” I said. “Your faith must be really strong.”
“I think if you grow up knowing what we know,” said Vince, “faith is a necessity.”
“Your mom isn’t going to like this.” Mr. Cooper was opening the car door. Vince eased into the front seat. I really didn’t care what Mrs. Cooper thought, but before I could say something to that effect, Ned said it for me.
“Give the kid a break, Charlie. He wasn’t looking for trouble. He was in a well-lighted mall with you. Nicole’s just gonna have to get over herself.”
Mom’s next nonverbal to me was the kind of expression that was supposed to tell me to get that grin off my face, but really told me she approved of what Ned was saying. We watched the  MINI Cooper pull away.
“It’s Ned, right?” said Mom.
“Yes, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me, I need to follow them home.”
“Good idea.”
Ned took off at supernatural speeds. As you do, when you’re a vampire.
“So,” said Mom. “Any idea what that was all about?”
“I swear,” I said to Mom, “the only vampire chasing I’ve done was last weekend. I had nothing to do with this.”
“Put your crucifix away,” said Mom. “You understand I don’t want you looking into this?”
“But I’m supposed to tell you if I see something weird. Yup. Got it. I mean, I wouldn’t want to jump to any
rash decisions about whether these vampires were dangerous or anything. Best leave that to the professionals, like you and Dad.”
“Just how long would you like to be grounded?” asked Mom.
I stopped talking. Now that we had a vampire infestation, I wondered if Mom and Dad would be too busy to pay much attention to what I was getting up to.
I wondered about William and Coral. They were conveniently absent. But they couldn’t be vampires, because they went to school during the day. If this were a mystery novel, though, they’d be circumstantial suspects.

CHAPTER SIX
 
The Ice Cream from
20,000 Fathoms
Saturday morning, Vince didn’t come to skate lessons. I got it. If you’d been mauled by a Nosferatu, you might want to take it easy for a while. It was too bad for Marty. I had finally convinced her she might catch Vince’s eye by taking the beginner class. I didn’t know how to spill the beans about Vince’s googly eyes for Coral at the mall.
Dad was my escort for the day. I didn’t argue. Besides, our trip had turned into a little party. I laced my skates. Mel glided across the rink and stoppered himself at the rail.
“Rath,” said Mel. This was the way tough guy monster hunters greeted my dad.
Dad lowered his shield, a book called Hollywood B’s: The Golden Era. “Mr. Lancaster.”
“Hunt anything interesting lately?”
Dad flinched.
I smiled. “Ix-nay on the onster-may,” I said.
Mel scrutinized me like he had never seen me before. “Oh yeah? Something happen?”
“Abigail is currently in disgrace,” said Dad.
I skated away from them. Marty had arrived, and I didn’t need to hear the case against me all over again.
Marty sported a bicycle helmet and knee and elbow pads. “Hey, Abs.”
“Hey. You planning on going out for goalie soon?”
“Ha ha. I’m going to be one big bruise.”
I sat down by Marty on the big bench, avoiding the peeling paint just to her right. “Maybe you should bubble wrap yourself?”
“Funny,” said Marty.
“You’ll do fine. Mel is a great teacher.”
“Where’s Vince?” Marty’s eyes focused beyond me, sifting through the skaters.
“Vince...got mugged the other night at the mall.”
“Is he okay?”
“Oh yeah. He was bruised up, so he’s taking today off.”
Marty sank into the bench, sad and lumpy. I offered a consolation prize. “Dad is taking me for ice cream at Kaplan Kone