Killer's Kiss

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Authors: R.L. Stine

BOOK: Killer's Kiss
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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

About the Author

Chapter

1

“W
hoa!”

Vincent Milano dropped back against the sofa cushions. He could still feel the touch of Delia Easton's lips on his cheek.

He watched her run a silver tube of purple lipstick over her lips.

She stroked it across her full lower lip. She smoothed it over her top lip. She carefully outlined her lips.

Something must have told her it looked perfect. She smacked her lips together and blotted them with a tissue. Then she tossed the tissue onto the table in front of the couch.

A perfect set of lip prints stained the white tissue. Dark purple lip prints. They grinned up at
Vincent the same way Delia grinned at him from her spot on the couch.

Vincent ran a hand through his wavy, dark hair. He reached across Delia and grabbed a tissue from her bag. Then he wiped a smudge of purple lipstick off his cheek.

“Now what were we talking about?” he asked. He gave Delia one of his Vincent-Milano-trademark smiles.

“We need to plan your birthday party,” Delia replied. She checked her watch. “But I guess we'll have to do that some other time. It's late. I should go home.”

Vincent scooted closer. “It's not
that
late. You don't have to go yet.” He stroked one finger under her left ear.

Delia giggled. Then she glanced at the front window. “Your parents will probably be home soon,” she said.

“But they're not home
yet.”
Vincent turned to the window. He couldn't see much—just Delia's little red Jetta parked in the driveway. The street in front of the house stood empty.

“They won't be home for a while.” Actually, Vincent's parents wouldn't be back for hours. But he expected someone at nine. Someone Vincent did
not
want Delia to see.

He checked the clock on the mantel.

Only eight-thirty. Plenty of time before Karina
arrived. He might as well enjoy himself while he waited.

Vincent kissed Delia again. She would never guess that his big smile had anything to do with Karina Frye.

“Mmmm.” Delia stared up at him, her brown eyes sparkling. “I went shopping for a new outfit today,” she told him. “I want something special to wear on your birthday. I tried on a purple vinyl skirt, but I'm not sure …”

Oh, great, Vincent thought. Karina and Delia will both expect to spend my birthday with me.

Vincent laughed. “You'd look awesome in purple vinyl!”

Delia blushed.

It's the truth, Vincent told himself. And it's what she wants to hear. What's wrong with that?

Delia wasn't beautiful—not like Karina. But people noticed her everywhere she went.

“You have great hair,” Vincent whispered. He ran his hands through Delia's long, dark curls. “And you know that purple lipstick drives me crazy,” he added.

Yes! He found exactly the right thing to say. Delia planted a kiss on Vincent's mouth. He tried not to think about Karina while he kissed Delia.

He would never be able to choose between the two girls. They were too different. He couldn't compare them.

Karina had super-smooth blond hair and lightblue
eyes. She was prettier than anyone Vincent had ever seen. She reminded him of Michelle Pfeiffer.

Delia was outgoing and outrageous. Karina was sweet and smart. He liked them both—a lot.

If his luck held, he could keep going out with both of them.

Delia sighed. “I can't believe I was ever dumb enough to think you liked Karina. You're not angry about that, are you?”

Vincent ignored the queasy feeling that shot through his stomach. Leave it to Delia to mention Karina now.

Delia didn't have a clue that he was seeing Karina. And Karina didn't know about Delia. If she did, she wouldn't be coming over.

“I'm not angry.” Vincent tried to keep his voice steady. “You and Karina fight over
everything
. It figures that you would both want the same guy.”

“Yeah, it figures Karina would want
my
boyfriend.” Delia pulled away from Vincent and sat up. “She's been jealous of me since we were kids! My clothes. My grades. My friends.”

Delia sighed. “Karina pretends to be such a goody-goody. But as soon as she heard we were going out, she went after you.”

Vincent rolled his eyes. He never felt guilty about anything—and he wasn't about to start now. But listening to Delia talk about Karina made him nervous.

He checked the clock on the mantel.

Eight-thirty.

Whoa! How could it
still
be eight-thirty?

Vincent's breath caught in his throat. He jumped up from the couch.

“Vincent? What's wrong?” Delia called.

“Uh—nothing.” Trying his best to look casual, Vincent strolled over to the fireplace. He bent his head close to the clock.

No ticking. The clock had stopped.

And he had no idea how long ago. It could be nine o'clock right now!

Vincent's heart banged against his ribs. He turned back to Delia. She started to apply a fresh coat of purple lipstick.

“You … you're right about my parents,” Vincent stammered. He hurried across the room and grabbed Delia's arm. He hauled her off the couch. “They
will
be home soon. You'd better leave.”

“Excuse me? A minute ago you said—”

“I know, but I didn't realize how late it was.” Vincent turned to the window. Still no sign of Karina. But she should be here any second.

“My mom thinks I'm studying for my calculus test,” he told Delia. “I promised I would.” Vincent handed Delia her green and purple parka and nudged her toward the door. “She will kill me if she finds out you've been here.”

He flicked on the lamp near the door and peeked outside.

No Karina.

He yanked open the front door. “I'll see you at school tomorrow,” he told Delia. “Right?”

“Right,” she answered. Delia checked her lipstick in the mirror that hung in the front hallway. Then she gave Vincent a quick kiss on the cheek. “Tomorrow,” she said, and made her way out the door.

The second she left, Vincent raced into the family room. He fluffed the pillows on the couch. He grabbed the tissue Delia had used to blot her lipstick and shoved it into his pocket.

When he heard Delia's car start, he rushed to the window in time to wave good-bye. He watched the red taillights of her Jetta disappear around the corner—just as the headlights of another car came into view.

Karina!

Vincent's heart started pounding again—with excitement. He waited by the window, watching Karina park her silver Eclipse and climb out.

In the moonlight, Karina's long, blond hair appeared as silver as her car. She had it pulled back into a sleek ponytail that brushed against her shoulders as she walked to the front door.

Vincent grinned to himself as he watched her step into the light of the porch. Karina wore a short, black skirt and dark stockings that showed off her long legs. Even though it was February, she
didn't wear a coat. Her sweater matched her blue eyes exactly.

Vincent opened the door before Karina rang the bell. He stepped out onto the front porch and gazed down the empty street.

That was a close call, he thought.

“Karina!” He smiled. The Vincent-Milano-trademark smile. “It's about time you got here! I've been bored out of my mind all night.”

“Sorry I'm late,” Karina answered. “But guess what? As I drove over here, I thought of the perfect theme for your birthday party!”

“Let's talk about it later.” Vincent slipped his arms around Karina and pulled her close. He kissed her, a long, slow kiss.

“Come on in,” he whispered, pulling Karina through the door.

The second they stepped into the brightly lit hallway, all the color drained from Karina's face. Her mouth fell open.

“Oh, no!” Karina gasped. “I don't believe it!”

Chapter

2

“H
uh? What is it?”

Vincent spun around to check the hallway behind him. Nothing there.

He turned back to Karina. “What's wrong?”

“What's wrong?” Color flooded back into Karina's beautiful face. Splotches of red appeared high on her cheekbones.

“What's wrong?” she repeated angrily. She wrenched her arm out of Vincent's grasp and stalked into the family room.

What is her problem? Vincent wondered.

Karina came back carrying a clean tissue. She swiped it across his cheek—hard.

“That's
what's wrong,” she uttered through
clenched teeth. She held up the tissue for him to see.

“Huh?” Vincent stared at the smear of dark purple on the tissue.

“I'd know that color anywhere!” Karina wadded the tissue into a ball and hurled it to the floor.

“Karina—whoa!” Vincent started. “I—”

“Delia! She was here, wasn't she? She knows that you and I are seeing each other—and she came over to try to steal you away from me. And you! You
kissed
her!”

Vincent had never seen Karina so upset. She was actually trembling.

It will be all right, he coached himself. Karina will calm down in a minute.

As long as I make up a good story …

Vincent kept his voice soft. He tried to sound calm. Innocent. “It's not what you think,” he told Karina.

“Oh, really?” She rolled her eyes.

“Delia just showed up at my door. She needed help with her American civ homework. At least that's what she said.”

Karina stared at him, her blue eyes cold. “That doesn't explain the kiss.”

“You know how Delia is.” Vincent stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “She does what she wants—no matter what. When she was leaving, she kissed me on the cheek. It was no big deal. Really.”

Karina sighed and walked over to the window. She's caving, Vincent thought happily.

Luckily, she can never stay angry at me for long.

Vincent followed her. “I didn't kiss her back or anything. It was a two-second peck on the cheek. Really.”

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