He turned it on, the noise drowning out everything running through my head. Several seconds later, he turned the blender off, and poured the smoothie into a tall glass.
"Here you go," he said, handing it to me.
"Thank you." I sipped. It was delicious.
He handed me a napkin. After I wiped my mouth, I asked, "Why?"
He took a deep breath. "First answer this question. Did you crave Cindy's blood? Or another female's blood at any time this morning?"
I thought a moment. "No, I didn't."
Professor Pops blew out. "Your best friends are seven guys, young men who are desirable, and who find you desirable."
At those words I blushed. "Nu-uh," I said.
He patted my hand. "You may try to hide it, Snow, but you are very, very beautiful. Truly one of the fairest in the land," he added, his face softening.
My face felt like it was on fire. "What does that, or the fact that my best friends are guys have to do with anything?"
He waited until I got it. "Not every teenage girl is in a situation like yours. Seven young men vying for her attention."
"We're just friends though," I said, taking another drink of my smoothie, thankful I had something to do.
"True, but I believe every one of them would gladly be your boyfriend, if you allowed him. I noticed the way you and Gabe are together. There's something going on with you two."
I stared into the drink. "I wanted something, but ever since my bite, and the note this morning, he's been different." I took another gulp, worried I should mention what Christopher said, but I couldn't bring myself to blurt it out.
Professor Pops sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. It seemed he'd aged a hundred years in the past few days. "I've been training the boys since I adopted them. Gabe, though he's younger was actually my first."
I nodded, remembering the day I rode my new bike along Professor Pops circular driveway and fell off. Before I could start to cry, Gabe ran out, all legs and arms, and thick curly hair, and helped me up. 'You'll be okay,' he'd said, brushing off my knees. 'Shake it off.'
"They've been learning, though they didn't know it, how to kill vampires, and anything else that comes after you."
I lifted my glass to take a drink and stiffened. "Why would anything else be after me?"
Professor Pops came around, and stuck out his hand. "Come with me. I need to show you something."
I set down the glass and rose, hesitantly placing my hand in his. "What?" I asked, my nervousness easy to hear.
"You'll see. I'll give you your first vampire slaying lesson."
I snorted. "Don't I just stake him through the heart with a wooden stick?"
"Afraid not, Snow." He led me down a set of stairs, into the basement. Opening the door to the storage room, he walked over to the furnace, and pressed a button. The wall behind it swung opened, revealing another set of steps leading down. "Come," he said.
I hesitated. It was dark, and smelled muggy, like dirt, and wet cement.
"You'll be fine." He released my hand, flipped on a light, and started down.
I trailed him cautiously. When we reached the bottom, there was another door. He pulled a key from around his neck, and put it into the lock. I heard the click, and he turned the knob. Cool air, like from a walk-in freezer, whooshed out and struck us. I inhaled.
"It's cold," I said, stating the obvious.
He flipped on another light, and stepped into the room.
I followed, and immediately wished I hadn't.
Chapter 7
My legs turned to jelly, and my first instinct was to bolt back up the stairs.
"Snow, it's okay. Think about the Harvard Museum of Natural History. They have skeletons, and animals stuffed to make them look real. The same applies here. Think of this as a Museum for the Supernatural." He'd rushed over and seized my arm, helping me stand. What I really wanted was to take a brillo pad to my brain.
As much as I wanted to run away, I wanted to move in for a closer look even more. Sort of like when you see a car accident on the road. You feel revolted and drawn to it at the same time. That's how I felt.
The room reminded me of a gallery with so much to see I wasn't sure where to begin. Scanning the room, I went from one fairytale beast to another.
"Why? What? How did you get these down here?"
He chuckled. "It was easy. I'm a professor of religion at Harvard. I'm always studying strange phenomena. Or miracles, if you'd prefer."
"Makes sense," I said, moving toward a creature that looked like a tiny angel. Its feathery white wings pinned opened to a corkboard. Its skin sparkled like glitter. It wore a white tunic, and white sandals that laced up its very human looking legs. Hair was long, and blond with streaks of red.
"A Downy fairy," Professor Pops said, coming over, and bending so that his face was even with mine. "She died more than five hundred years ago. I haven't seen another like her."
I searched his face, having noted the sadness in his voice. "If you haven't seen another like her, how do you know she's a Downy fairy?"
"Very perceptive you are, young one."
I snickered at the Yoda impersonation.
"She died in the service of our cause. I was there when it happened."
"Oh," I mouthed. Then said, "I'm sorry Professor Pops."
"It's alright. I've had many years to mourn her loss. She was a good friend, a valiant warrior, and she died for what she believed in. It was honorable."
"How did she die?" I asked, intrigued.
"That is a story for another time," he said, straightening. Underneath the platform where the corkboard stood was a drawer. Professor Pops touched a knob, and the latch released. Inside was a leather-bound book. He reached in and pulled it out. In the center of the room stood a thick, plastic-looking music stand. Professor Pops walked over, and set the book on it. Then he waved me over. When I stood in front of the book, the first page turned, on its own. "You must never touch any of the pages. Touching them will increase their speed of deterioration."
"Then how?" I began.
Professor Pops said, "Chapter one." The pages instantly flicked to the page that said, Chapter One. "Page one-hundred-thirty-six." Immediately, the pages flipped until it reached said page.