"It's true," Melbourne said. "Vlaski recruited him about thirteen years ago, shortly after his disappearance."

  "Okay, there are so many things wrong with what you're saying right now. First of all, Russell didn't disappear, he was murdered. Second... well, second, why should I believe anything you say?" I turned to Trixie. "His last name isn't even Hammond, did you know that? It's Winslet."

  "I know," Trixie said softly.

  "You know?"

  "I know everything, Ava. Melbourne and I had a long talk the other night. He told me the truth about everything that's been going on."

  "Fine. Believe him if you want, but I don't."

  "Why is it so difficult for you to believe that Russell is working with Vlaski?" Melbourne asked.

  "Because he was a COMHA agent. That was his job. He worked undercover. Look, maybe you're not lying. Maybe you're just confused. Russell was deep cover. That means only a handful of people knew his true identity."

  "Including Dean Lampton?"

  I hesitated. "Yes, including Dean. Why?"

  "I heard he was attacked," Melbourne said, his eyes glassy and dark.

  "Yeah. It's all over the news. So what?"

  "The reporters seem to think it was Colt who did it."

  Anger fumed inside me. "It wasn't Colt! It was... well, I don't know who it was, but I know it wasn't him."

  "How do you know?" The calmer Melbourne's voice remained, the more irritating I found it.

  "I know because he told me."

  "So, you take Colt's word but not mine?"

  "Yes. I know Colt. Very well."

  Trixie spoke up. "And I know Melbourne. Very well."

  Trixie and I were glaring at each other. Melbourne raised his hands in a placating gesture, as if he'd just been told to freeze.

  "I understand why you take Colt's word on things, but why take Russell's?"

  "Because he's Colt's father," I said. "And a COMHA agent."

  Melbourne shook his head. "You contradict yourself and don't even realize it. You told me that Russell was a COMHA agent. Is he still?"

  "I... I don't know. I guess not. Why?"

  "And you said he didn't disappear, he died. Yet here he is. Alive and well."

  "I'm not sure I'd say he was alive and well, precisely."

  Trixie sighed. "You know what he means, Ava."

  "Fine. Russell is alive. So?"

  "So, someone's being lying to you, and it hasn't been me. I may have left out a few details here and there, but I never told you a direct lie."

  My stomach was sinking into a giant pit. I could feel my insides twisting and churning.

  "You're saying that Russell is a member of Vlaski's gang?"

  "He wasn't at first, but sometimes the transformation—the turning—changes people. The Russell who was Colt's father worked to bring Vlaski down, but once he became one of them, things changed."

  "How do you know all this?" I asked.

  "I've seen them together. I've watched their movements. Russell is here now because Vlaski ordered him to be."

  "But why? Why would Vlaski want to reunite Colt with his father? Don't tell me it's because he cares."

  Melbourne smiled. "No. It's not that." He looked at Trixie, who nodded.

  "Who attacked Dean Lampton?" Melbourne asked.

  "If I had to guess... Vlaski Ambrose."

  "Wrong."

  My heart was starting to skip beats. Ba-ra-thump. Ba-ra-thump. Ba-ra-thump. Ba — thump. I inhaled sharply. "You're saying Russell attacked Dean? But why?"

  "Because Dean knows the truth about him. All of it. Now that the cat's out of the bag and Colt knows his father is still alive, it's only a matter of time until he learns the rest."

  "Then why wouldn't Vlaski or Russell just kill him?"

  "They plan to, but they can't yet."

  "Why not?"

  "Ava," Melbourne said, "who do you think killed Rachel Sessler?"

  My throat was dry. "Vlaski," I mumbled.

  Melbourne shook his head. "No."

  "Russell?" I squeaked. He nodded. "But why? She was just the mayor's assistant. What could she possibly know that was dangerous to them?"

  "Nothing. That's the thing. Rachel was killed because Russell was hungry. He had to feed, and he chose to feed on her. It was nothing more than bad luck for Rachel. The wrong place at the wrong time. It could have been anyone; she just happened by."

  I was trying to wrap my head around everything. It was too much too fast.

  "So, if what you say is true, why reveal himself to people after all this time? Why is Russell trying to reconnect with Colt? You said Vlaski ordered him to, but for what reason?"

  "Because Colt has something that Vlaski needs. Something that only he can give."

  "What?"

  "His life."

  The words hung in the air. "His life? You mean, Russell is supposed to kill Colt? Kill his own son?" The idea not only horrified me, it made me sick.

  "He has to," Melbourne said.

  "Why?"

  "Vlaski's plan has evolved over time. He's not just planning to poison the water, he wants to create an army of followers. He needs a lot of blood for something like that, but not just any blood. Sacrificial blood."

  "You're saying Russell has to sacrifice his son for Vlaski's plan to succeed?"

  "It's the only way Vlaski can win, and he'll stop at nothing to make that happen."

  * * *

  3 1

  * * *

  "I need some air," I told them. My head was throbbing. I made my way outside and started walking around the block.

  Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

  I walked along the street, heading nowhere in particular. I was near the sheriff's station but didn't particularly want to see Sheriff Knoxx just now. I didn't want to see anyone just now. I turned around and almost ran into Colt.

  "Oh, my roses, you scared me!" I yelled, slapping his arm. I was so happy to see him I didn't really care that my heart was beating like a jackhammer. I grabbed hold of him and pulled him to me, kissing him before he had a chance to get away. Holding onto Colt was like holding onto the life raft I so desperately needed right now. It felt as though everything I knew about Sweetland Cove was a lie.

  "Wow," Colt said when I finally released him from my grasp. "I should go away more often." He stopped and looked at me, really looked at me. "Are you okay? I haven't been gone that long."

  The awful, evil truth of it all was that I believed Melbourne. I believed everything he'd told me. I didn't want to, but it was impossible not to with so much evidence before me. That book of his contained too many pieces of information.

  "Why'd you come back?" I asked him.

  He shrugged. "I realized that running was the coward's way out. You were right; innocent men don't run. They stay and fight."

  A police cruiser drove by. Its brakes suddenly squealed on the pavement and the engine gunned as the car reversed toward us. Sheriff Knoxx got out. His brow was furrowed in a deep V as he approached us.

  "Detective Hudson... Colt. I need to speak with you."

  Colt stared at him. "Not now."

  I could tell Sheriff Knoxx was trying to keep his cool.

  "I need to discuss Dean Lampton with you." What he really meant was, you're wanted for questioning. Get inside my station now before I arrest you.

  Sheriff Knoxx wouldn't want to say that in front of me, though, if he could help it. I knew him well enough to know that he valued relationships. He wouldn't want to embarrass Colt in front of me. That was part of the reason Eleanor liked him so much. He was a gentleman.

  "It's fine, Colt. I'll go in with you."

  Sheriff Knoxx's eyes moved to mine. "That's not a good idea, Ava."

  "Why not? I know what's going on. In fact, I bet I know more than you do. You don't need to protect me."

  "Yeah, if you want to talk to me, I'd like Ava there, too. We don't have secrets between us. Anymore." He grasped my hand firmly in his as he emphasized the last word and shot me a sideways grin. Even on the run, he looked like a magazine model. He was dressed in jeans and a loose t-shirt, but everything about him screamed sex appeal.

  Sheriff Knoxx began explaining to me why I shouldn't get further involved with this situation than I already was. I told him I wasn't involved with it at all. I had nothing to do with Dean Lampton's attack. I wasn't even in the area.

  "I believe you, but COMHA is gonna want to talk to Colt alone. They're not going to let you in the interrogation room with him just because you want to be there for moral support. COMHA doesn't work that way."

  "I know that," I told him. "But I've met Dean Lampton. I can attest to his dark side. Last time I saw him, he threatened me."

  Sheriff Knoxx sighed. I knew he was just trying to help. In the distance, two figures were coming down the sidewalk. I watched as their forms drew closer. Finally, Sheriff Knoxx turned to see what I was looking at. His jaw dropped open.

  "Melbourne?" he asked, unable to believe what he was seeing.

  "Hello, Sheriff Knoxx," Melbourne replied. Trixie stood at his side, the perfect picture of a dutiful and loving friend, kinda-girlfriend, who was there for support. "I've come to turn myself in."

  Inside the sheriff's station, Melbourne and Trixie sat together at Sheriff Knoxx's desk, while Colt and I stood leaning against Otis's desk. Otis was out on a bagel run.

  Sheriff Knoxx kept bringing his hand up to his face, scratching at his chin like some university English professor pondering Shakespeare. "Tell me all that again, would you, because I don't think my brain is working right."

  Melbourne sat stoically in his chair, never flinching or dropping his eyes. "I'm sorry I lied."

  "Lied." Sheriff Knoxx laughed. "If what you're telling me is true, you've done a lot more than that. You've lied. You've stolen. Wait until Dale finds out it was you who broke into his store and stole his chocolate pie. Do you have any idea how long I had to listen to him go on about that? He could have parted peacefully with hammers, tools, a garden hose, anything but that pie."

  Melbourne grinned sheepishly. "I was hungry and tired of cooking my meals over an open flame in the middle of Beggars Forest. I wanted something... sweet. Not another wild boar or tree root soup."

  I scrunched my face at the mention of tree root soup. It sounded disgusting.

  "And you," Sheriff Knoxx said, turning to me and Colt. He looked equally mad at us both. "You," he said pointing at Colt, "should have known better than to go questioning Dean Lampton on your own like that. Look at the trouble you've gotten yourself into. Next time, tell me and I'll go with. Two are always better than one. That way you have a witness on your side."

  Trixie smiled. "It's good not to be alone when times are tough." She squeezed Melbourne's hand, and he squeezed hers back.

  "And you," Sheriff Knoxx said, rounding on me. "How could you not tell anyone about Melbourne? Or Russell? Or Vlaski? Do you have any idea how much danger you've been surrounded by?"

  "I promised Melbourne and Russell I wouldn't say anything."

  Colt had stood silently by as he listened to Melbourne's story. I'd wanted to talk to him about Russell alone, break the news to him that his dad wasn't the same guy he remembered. Melbourne had brought it up before I'd ever gotten the chance.

  "Colt..." I ventured, "do you, er, have any questions about your dad?" His eyes clouded as he looked from me to Melbourne.

  "Why should I take your word for anything?" Colt asked Melbourne. "You've admitted you’re a liar. You faked your death; what else are you faking?"

  I took Colt's hand. "I asked him basically the same question."

  "And what was his answer? More lies? How can you believe a word this guy says?"

  Uh oh, Colt was mad. Like climbing the walls of a crazy house mad. I didn't blame him. He'd just gotten his father back only to have us rip him away again.

  "I know it's been a while," Colt said, "but I know my dad. A person doesn't change that drastically. To go from pure good to pure evil? No way."

  I knew I had to get through to him. "Colt, the night your father saved me from Vlaski... it was a setup."

  Colt scoffed.

  "No, really. Russell was supposed to save me that night. To gain my trust." My cheeks flushed as I looked down at the floor. "It worked."

  Melbourne rose from his chair, facing Colt man to man. "I'm sorry if the truth hurts you. I know what that's like. I would have come forward much sooner if I'd known who I could trust. I was in a difficult position."

  "Right, a position in which you were only thinking of yourself." Colt's arm moved toward Trixie. "This woman loves you and you let her believe you were dead. You have friends here in town, Ava, Eleanor, me, but you just let us believe you were gone. And when you finally show back up, you still keep secrets from us."

  "I was only trying to protect the people I care about," Melbourne said, shooting a glance at Trixie. His voice was calm but his eyes looked desperate. "When you've seen the things that I've seen, it's not an easy thing to stop keeping secrets."

  Melbourne picked up the book he'd been carrying with him. "Read this," he said, handing it to Colt.

  Colt looked at me. "This is the book you were after." I nodded.

  "It's not so much a book as it is a... study guide. I only named it The Last Vampire because I got tired of calling it my journal."

  "How'd you come up with the name?" Colt asked.

  "The last vampire refers to the last name on my list. Vlaski's right-hand man."

  "Who's that?" Colt asked.

  "Your father."

  * * *

  3 2

  * * *

  Colt's face was white. He bared his teeth as though he were a vampire himself. "My father is no bloodsucker," he said. "I mean, he is, but he's one of the good guys. You're getting things all mixed up."

  He was half-yelling, half-pleading with Melbourne to stop trash talking his dad. Only I didn't think Melbourne was trash talking his dad. He was simply telling the truth.

  "Look," I said, taking The Last Vampire from Colt and flipping it open to the back, where I'd seen the one photo. It was the most damning photo, in my opinion. The one of Russell smiling, circling a man bleeding from his neck. A man who'd clearly been bitten by a vampire and was about to come to his end. Vlaski was smiling encouragingly in the background.

  I showed it to Colt, expecting the same reaction I'd had—confusion, shock, acceptance. Colt just stared at it as though it were a picture of sand on a beach.

  "Doesn't this picture prove Melbourne's story?" I asked.

  "You said you had a picture that proved Melbourne was friends with Vlaski. Now that's not proof anymore, but this is? It seems to me like you're all looking for a way to condemn my dad without hearing his side of the story."

  Colt looked at Sheriff Knoxx. "What do you think? You're a police officer. You're trained. You're like me. You know how to sift through fact versus opinion versus wishful thinking. Do you think my dad's a killer? That he's Vlaski's right-hand man?"

  Sheriff Knoxx glowed pink. He clearly felt uncomfortable in this situation. I couldn't blame him. Colt was asking a big question. An important question.

  "I think that what Melbourne's saying makes sense in combination with the things he has in that book you're holding."

  Colt dropped the book on Sheriff Knoxx's desk like it had suddenly sprouted flames. "Whatever."

  Sheriff Knoxx rose from his chair. "Hey, you asked me my opinion, I'm giving it to you. Don't brush it off just because you don't like it. You said it yourself. You're trained in investigation. Be objective. Look at the big picture and the evidence being presented to you."

  "I am," Colt growled.

  Melbourne stood up now, too. Trixie tried to tug him back into his seat but he didn't budge. He took a step toward Colt. "Look, I know how difficult this must be."

  "Do you?" Colt snapped. "This is all your fault. You should have stayed gone." Before anyone could stop him, his fist was flying through the air. It landed square on Melbourne's jaw. He stumbled backward into his chair but didn't fall. Trixie squealed.

  "No!" I yelled, trying to grab Colt and stop him. He brushed me off and took another swing at Melbourne. Melbourne caught Colt's fist before it could hit him and pushed his whole body back so that the back of his legs were touching Otis Winken's desk.

  "I don't want to hurt you," Melbourne said.

  Colt stamped his foot down on Melbourne's, who yelled in surprise. Melbourne was at least three times stronger than Colt. I wasn't sure how much of this was actually hurting him—I think Colt had simply surprised Melbourne with the stomp to the foot.

  A fine white mist suddenly shot through the air, landing almost dead center between Melbourne and Colt. They jumped away from it, everyone holding their noses. Otis was back.

  "Ugh!" Colt shouted.

  "Darn it, Otis!" yelled Sheriff Knoxx.

  We all turned to see Otis holding Tadpole, his skunk familiar. Tadpole's tail was up, bushy, as if he'd just let go of a particularly big spray. He looked at us as we wrinkled our noses. Tadpole crawled up Otis's arm and whispered something in his ear. Otis nodded and addressed our group.

  "Tadpole says 'break it up.' He's real good like that, getting people to stop fighting."

  Sheriff Knoxx was about to blow his top. His face was beet red and his brow was set into a mass of lines that seemed permanently etched there. One side of his mouth curled up, the other down.

  "Otis, you get Tadpole out of here right now, before I lock him up in one of those cells."

  "Even if you did, Sheriff, Tadpole would get out. He's too little. He could squeeze through those bars in a second or two."

  "OTIS! OUT! NOW!"

  Otis didn't wait around for anyone else to submit their opinion on Tadpole's amazing abilities to break up an argument. He rushed Tadpole outside. Trixie was dabbing at her clothes with a napkin. A glass of water sat on top of Sheriff Knoxx's desk. She dipped the napkin in it, then dabbed her clothes again, as if that could somehow remove the smell.

  "I think he stained my shirt," she told us.

  Sheriff Knoxx shook his head. I stood there, too stunned to move. My whole body smelled like skunk. Colt cracked a smile. He walked over to Melbourne and extended his hand. "Sorry," he said. "Guess I lost my temper."