Carmilla Page 5

  For the next several hours, we study the new stream of clues. We test timelines and move around pieces of the puzzle, hoping for some hint that we are on the right path to figuring out what the hell is going on.

  No luck. I let my head rest on the desk. “It’s highly probable that my brain has melted.”

  “Nothing that some caffeine and food won’t fix,” Danny offers.

  Oh my God. “I’m the worst hostess ever.” I jump up and raid the fridge. I load my arms with soda, peanut butter, caramel corn and brownies before returning to my hungry guest.

  Danny takes one look at my haul and says, “Laura, how do you eat that stuff? Do you know how many chemicals are in all of that crap?”

  “But they’re my favorites and delicious. Plus, in the face of epic failure, this is the comfort food that will get us through,” I argue.

  “Look, we aren’t at epic failure yet —”

  I interrupt her. “Every time we get close to anything substantial, all of the doors slam closed. I feel like we take one step forward then two back.” How long can we take this? I wonder.

  Danny is all sunshine. “Have faith. We know that each of the girls vanished at a party. That’s something. The Under the Sea swim party, the Psychology Department’s wine-and-cheese gathering, the North Quad mixer and the Summer Society rush party.”

  I see where she’s going. I think. “All planned by different organizations with unique invite lists.”

  Danny gets up and paces, ticking off more information that we’ve gathered. “What about all the party gear? A smoldering caldron for the Fizzy Dagons at the swim party. A three-foot volcanic replica with melted Brie at the wine and cheese. The Summer Society rush party had bioluminescent candy-bugs front and center. Lastly, at the Quad mixer —”

  I jump in. “Party Fog.”

  Danny continues, “All provided by —”

  My turn. “The Alchemy Department!”

  Can’t be them. Can it? They’re wannabe scientists, like LaFontaine. Not kidnappers. Nerds are one thing, criminals are another.

  “Do you actually think one of them is kidnapping girls?”

  Danny hesitates. “It’s all we’ve got. I know it’s a long shot but I think it’s worth exploring. Don’t you?”

  “I do if you do,” I say. I even giggle. I hear choking from the other side of the room, and it’s Carmilla of course, watching our every move. I lift my eyes to see her pouring some of her so-called soy milk on her cocoa puffs. Still looks like blood, if you ask me.

  Carmilla throws in her two cents. “Have you seen those Alchemy Club geeks? Most of them couldn’t pull off a Band-Aid, never mind some elaborate kidnapping.” I swear I hear her scoff at us. But she also has an opinion.

  And I hate to admit it but she could be right. I turn to Danny, which gives me a reason to look at her. “Maybe we need to talk to Sarah Jane and Natalie again, see if we can jog their memories.”

  Carmilla chimes in. “Oh joy. Another visit from little Miss Crazy and Miss Scared of Her Own Shadow. That should be a load of laughs. Can’t wait.”

  Just when she was almost helpful, she turns sarcastic again.

  Danny and I sift through more tips while Carmilla buries her head in her doom-and-gloom book, occasionally peeking over the top to sneer at us. She’s not as stealthy as she’d like to believe. Every time we giggle, she gags.

  Now I’m doing it on purpose. I can dish it out, too. Let’s see how she likes to be taunted. May as well make good use of my time while we wait for the girls to show up. I lean in closer to Danny when I see Carmilla look up. This time she starts retching like she may throw up.

  I win.

  Then a ruckus outside the door gets our attention. Natalie rolls up draped in sequins and owning some batshit-crazy dance moves. Is this even the same girl? Last time we saw her, she was mousy and barely spoke above a whisper. This drastic shift in her personality jars all of us, even Carmilla. Natalie goes right to the video camera and poses in front of it. “This is so dope. Let’s do it. Put me on TV.” She starts striking dance poses like Drake.

  I have to ask, “Are you okay?” I see Carmilla moving her finger in a circle next to her head like “she’s nuts.” I do not think she’s wrong.

  Natalie leaps back from the desk, launching into a dance routine to the music that’s blasting in her head. “Never better. This is the most fun I’ve had in my entire life.”

  “Really? The last time we talked, you were very upset. Almost inconsolable. You know, about the time you went missing? The bad dreams.” I hold my breath for her reply.

  Natalie throws herself into a chair. “Yeah, they were freaky. I’m not thinking about them anymore. Goodbye to them. Wine coolers?”

  Before you know it, she exits as fast as she blew in.

  “What just happened?” I say. “That was peculiar even for her.” I check the time on my phone — she was here for two minutes. Like, why did she come at all?

  Danny and I try to figure it out, but eventually she stands up and stretches. “I have no idea how to explain that. Just wow. I’m beat, so I’m gonna take off. I have an early class.”

  I hop up. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “It’s like five feet to the door,” Carmilla says drily.

  We both giggle. I boldly throw my arm around Danny. We linger near the door. Just staring at each other. My stomach is tingling.

  Carmilla huffs as she moves around us. “I need some air.”

  More giggling.

  When Danny finally leaves, I settle in to make a new video update. Sitting alone in front of the webcam, I launch into what has transpired so far.

  “Something is terribly wrong on this campus,” I tell my viewers near and far. “Something or someone is turning college students into pod people. Full-scholarship Natalie has flipped into table-dancing, frat-boy-loving Natalie. Talk about a three-sixty. And she’s not the only one.”

  I do my best to sound like a tabloid news reporter, all mysterious and suspenseful. “Sarah Jane. Poor thing. She came to Silas as a premed prodigy. Destined to follow in a long line of family doctors. Until the Under the Sea party transformed her into a beer guzzler. I mean Betty was a partier but …”

  Wait a second. A light bulb goes on. “Or was she?” I say slowly. “Maybe when I met her, they had already morphed her into Party Betty.”

  I barely realize that the night has passed me by as I go through countless messages from the student body. Day turns back into night. Twenty-four hours later, still in my pajamas, I’ve mowed through an entire package of cookies and a bag of gummy bears. Empty, crumpled wrappers littering my space.

  Carmilla drags herself out from under her cover fortress and busies herself making hot chocolate. “Morning,” she greets me.

  “It’s 5:00 P.M.,” I answer. Her mornings are my evenings. She doesn’t do days.

  She chuckles. “Wait, did you skip class?”

  “I felt sickish.”

  “You do look like crap,” she says. She drops the steaming mug of cocoa in front of me. “Try not to get into trouble before I get back.”

  It was my cocoa, but that’s the nicest thing she’s done for me since she swooped in here. “Where are you going?”

  “Oh, are you going to miss me?”

  Suddenly I’m flustered. “Just trying to be a good roommate,” I say. “I’ve already lost one.”

  Carmilla softens her stance, half smiles. “Got it. I want to catch a lecture on Goethe. It should be a good one, plus there’s going to be an open bar. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back before Thursday.”

  As she leaves, I notice a guy who could double as a werewolf walking with one of the girls from my floor. He’s carrying her books, leering at her. Am I bleary-eyed? Seeing things? Moments later, the dorm is strangely quiet.

  In my rush to gather clues, I’
ve never actually googled Betty. As soon as I type in her real name — Elizabeth Anne Spielsdorf — I land on her high school’s website. It’s enough to get me talking to myself. “Holy crap,” I say. “Betty was the valedictorian of her class in high school, student council vice president.”

  An image search shows an awkward girl clad in plaid with braces. Yeah, this is not my version of Betty. Here she is protesting with a group of nerds. Here she’s competing in a debate. I need more caffeine to deal with this. I pop a pod in the coffee maker and watch the liquid magic fill my Tardis mug. I love that thing. Best gift my dad ever gave me.

  The sound of clacking heels out in the hallway grows louder and louder. The magnets on my fridge now spell RUN. If only I could. Suddenly, I’m jarred by the sound of the door flinging open, the doorknob hitting the wall.

  “Hide, Laura! Quick!” LaFontaine is screaming, running into my room with a distraught Perry in tow.

  “It’s the dean. She. Is. Coming. Here.” LaFontaine is full-blown hysterical. I start to dive under the desk when a booming voice behind me scares me into stillness.

  “I’m here to speak with Ms. Karnstein!” I hear the voice bellow. It’s like the voice I heard at the town hall, deep and stern and terrifying.

  I stand up and lift my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is.” Perry and LaFontaine are cowering in the corner, shaking.

  The dean clears her throat. “Carmilla. Carmilla Karnstein.”

  My first thought is, Thank you, Jesus, that the devil hasn’t come for me.

  My second is, Karma is a bitch, Carmilla. Whatever you did, the dean is here for you.

  “She isn’t here, ma’am.” I know my voice is quavering but she’s very scary. And so tall.

  She thunders back, “When she returns, let her know I need to see her immediately. If not sooner.” The door closes and I practically sink to the floor.

  “The dean never comes to the dorms,” Perry says. “Something is amiss.”

  “Amiss? It’s the apocalypse,” LaFontaine corrects her.

  Then we hear bustling and raised voices outside the door. LaFontaine presses against it, then whispers loudly, “It’s her, the dean. And Carmilla.”

  I sidle up next to them. “What are they saying?”

  “I can’t make out the actual words. It’s like they’re screaming through their teeth.”

  “This is so childish. You two should be ashamed of yourselves,” Perry says. Like she doesn’t want to spy herself.

  LaFontaine ignores her. “Shhhh. I just heard something. The dean just said she didn’t go out of her way to get Carmilla accepted to Silas to have her behaving badly. Oh man, she’s in trouble.”

  She got her into Silas? Carmilla is connected to the dean? Why didn’t she mention that? Something is up with her.

  “Serves her right,” I chime in. I know this shouldn’t give me as much joy as it does, but it does. She earned every bit of this beatdown. She’s been nothing but a thorn in my side since she forced herself in as my roommate.

  “Deriving pleasure from someone else’s pain isn’t becoming, Laura,” Perry says, like she’s my dad or something.

  “After everything she’s put me through, it’s sooo satisfying.”

  Meanwhile, LaFontaine still has an ear glued to the back of the door. “Jeez. This is bad. The dean just told her that if she didn’t take care of the situation, she would.”

  “Yes! She so had it coming,” I cheer, pumping my fist in the air. The door flings wide open, revealing them both. The dean towers over Carmilla, who stands rigidly, frowning. The conversation is over and she has been released back into our room.

  LaFontaine stammers, “Uh, Dean.” She sort of bows. “Your Disapprovingness.”

  Perry attempts to soothe the beast. “So very nice to have you visit our floor. What a lovely surprise and a pleasure,” she says.

  The dean departs without a syllable, leaving only a whiff of disdain.

  We all breathe a sigh of relief — except Carmilla. Humiliated, enveloped in fury, she stomps around the room, kicking chairs and anything else in her path.

  Perry can’t wait to get out of here. “It’s been a blast, but LaFontaine and I have a student crisis or something like that to tend to.”

  LaFontaine can’t resist needling Carmilla. “So can I ask you about the coagulating properties of Karo syrup and food coloring?”

  “Let’s go,” Perry says. “You can ask her later.”

  LaFontaine hesitates.

  “Now, Susan,” Perry says.

  Leaving, LaFontaine throws two fingers to eyes, then back at Carmilla, letting her know that she’s being watched. Not subtle. Not so smart. As the door clicks closed, Carmilla whips a mug at it, sending ceramic shards everywhere. She’s really upset. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. I’m sincere. I’ve never seen this side of Carmilla. I’ve seen her mad, but this is different. She’s out of control, so angry that fire is dancing in her eyes.

  “No,” she growls.

  Fine. “Because it isn’t badass to have the dean personally rip you a new one?”

  “But I had it coming, right?”

  That makes me wince. I deserved that. “I didn’t mean it like that, Carm,” I try.

  “Sure you did. You don’t think that she raked me over the coals because I ignore your passive-aggressive chore wheel, do you?” She gestures to my expertly color-coded chart that she’s ignored from day one. Not one single dish has been washed by her hands.

  “No, I don’t, but why was she so pissed off at you?”

  At first she acts like she isn’t going to respond. Eventually, though, she admits that, “I might have said a few things in passing that she wasn’t a fan of.” Carmilla flops on her bed. I’m not connecting the dots.

  “When? At your Goethe seminar?” I ask.

  She babbles on, clearly distracted. “This age doesn’t understand obligation. It’s an undersea anchor weighing you down. No escape. Drowning.”

  That I get. “Worried that you aren’t living up to expectations?” She looks me in the eyes and I stare back. “Listen, I am the only child of a massively overprotective father. And I didn’t even have to get all creepy poet about it.”

  “You’re funny,” she says. A lightness fills her, and I notice that her gorgeous mahogany-brown eyes mist over, dousing the fire. I hand her a tissue. The moment we are sharing — which is undeniably a moment — is cut short when Danny breezes in. I’ve got to start locking that damn door.

  Danny doesn’t know what she’s walked in on. “Hi. I’m back from the Alchemy Department with a big win.”

  That gets my attention. “Please tell me they’re the ones responsible for kidnapping all of the girls?” That would shore everything up rather nicely and we could move on. You know, be normal college kids.

  “More like they are using dander collected at the parties to seed an immense interconnected fungus throughout the entire campus,” she spouts off without taking a breath.

  “What are you even talking about?” This sounds like a foreign language that I don’t speak.

  Danny makes herself comfortable, cross-legged on my bed. I notice Carmilla notice. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

  “It’s some crazy communication experiment. But the real headline here is that those creepy little proto-scientists have been photo-tracking every party on campus as part of their documentation,” Danny reports, her voice rising with excitement.

  “Okay?” I’m not completely following.

  She bounds off the bed, snatching my mouse. “Check this out. Access to hundreds of pictures from each of the parties where the girls vanished.”

  This is it! “Danny, you’re brilliant!” I cry. I’m sure my compliment sounds lame but she’s amazing. It’s the first real break we’ve had. “Seriously, Danny, without you we would
be in the weeds. You really stepped it up.”

  Carmilla grimaces. She shifts uncomfortably. I almost feel sorry for her. Danny and I are about to become legends: the girls who saved Silas. Carmilla will be just a bystander. That’s gotta hurt.

  “Sorry, I just remembered I need to be anywhere but here,” Carmilla mutters. I knew it was too good to be true. She’s back to her salty self.

  “Too bad, we were so enjoying your company.” Danny is one degree more sarcastic than usual, like she’s channeling Carmilla herself. And I can’t exactly blame her — it’s not like Carm is welcoming her with open arms. But Carmilla seems almost … vulnerable.

  Almost.

  The door slams so hard that the walls rattle.

  “Knock it off,” I tell Danny.

  She’s baffled. “Why should I?”

  “Her day has been epic suckage. Cut her some slack.”

  “You’re too sweet.” That’s nice, except that I was just thinking that Carmilla was sweet, and now I’m all confused. I can’t focus on that right now. We have hundreds of images to sift through for clues.

  As we start our assault on the pictures, my eyes start to cross. So many images. So many glasses of Fizzy Dagons being consumed. I don’t know how there aren’t more pictures of vomit. Minutes turn into hours and I guess I nod off, but Danny’s cry wakes me right up.

  “I found something!”

  I’m listening. “Show me.”

  Danny points to a girl in a photo. “This is Elsie. At the rush party the night she went missing. Check out the person next to her.”

  My heart sinks. It’s Carmilla. Plain as day.

  • SIX •

  I’m gearing myself up for tonight’s update, without Danny. I’m solo. I make sure I have the pictures ready to post as I’m prepping for my new video. Tonight is going to blow the roof off. If I’m being honest, I have mixed emotions about all that we’ve uncovered. All cued up, I turn into a news anchor.

  “Hello, Silas student body. It’s just me tonight, since Danny had an emergency Summer Society meeting. I know some of you think we’re overreacting. Trust me, we’re not. Yes, we read all of your comments and messages. It’s time to wake up and find the missing students. Check out these incriminating photos and you’ll have to admit that things are looking incredibly suspicious. Even her highness, the dean, won’t be able to ignore these.”