As soon as I arrived at the Zeta house, I knew that Laura wasn't there. How did I know? I could smell it — I'd been sleeping on her pillow for a reason, training myself for a situation just like this one.

And if that wasn't enough, I could hear it; her nerdy little laugh — I'd recognize it anywhere — and even more so, her heartbeat…

I closed my eyes and listened.

I heard the raucous sounds of collegiate flirtations; confident declarations, bad pick-up lines, nervous laughter, slushing bottles, and slurred speech. I phased it all out, and honed in. I heard excited hearts, drunk hearts, pounding hearts and murmuring ones, but I did not hear hers.

It only took a moment and I knew.

Luckily, I caught sight of Laura's friends, Perry and LaFontaine — or should I say Alison and Helena?

"Hey! Clonesbians!" I shouted over the din of the room.

Visibly afraid, they cowered as I approached, but I was used to it.

"Carmilla? What's brings you here?" Perry said.

"Where's Laura?"

"Uh, she's… she's here somewhere," LaFontaine said.

"No, she's not," I said.

"Yeah, yeah, she is. I just saw her," Perry said. "She went that way, I think."

"No! She's not! I can smell it!"

By the look in their eyes, I knew I had popped some fangs. They backed away.

"Oh, well when you put it that way…"

Perry pulled out her phone, scrolling through her messages; the last one was from Laura.

*Hey, we're stopping by Harrison Hall for a little amateur ghost hunt! Don't wait up!*

"Oh, well, would you look at that!" she said.

But I had looked at it. In fact, I had already read it and vanished, leaving them behind in a cloud of black smoke.

I reappeared inside a darkened hall, the ceilings high and echoing. The sounds of my arrival — like the fluttering of a dove's wings — resounded off the stained glass windows, and then everything was still.

Harrison Hall! I thought. I should have known! A Silas mating ritual if there ever was one!

I had to give it to Danny (at least I thought it was Danny's idea) — walking the darkened halls, arms intertwined, searching for a ghost that doesn't exist — it was a pretty solid plan to get Laura into her arms.

I sniffed the air.

She's here, I thought. And she's aroused…

Though from fear or from something else, that was yet to be determined.

Just then, I heard a terrified scream, not far off, but far enough.

"Laura!" I cried out.

I ran toward the sound, but when I got to the end of the hallway, I heard another scream, this time more urgent, coming from behind me.

"Laura!" I cried as I spun around. "Where are you?!"

I ran to the other end of the hallway and turned the corner.

And then I stopped dead in my tracks, because there in the hallway, as dark as it was, every single classroom door stood open, each glowing white in the light of the moon, each standing attention, like a row of ghostly soldiers.

Strange, I thought. Harrison Hall isn't supposed to be haunted. That's just an urban legend.

Then, as if to prove me wrong — BANG! — every door slammed shut at the same exact moment.

The sound shook the window panes but I stood still, squinting into the darkness, because something wasn't quite right.

I sniffed the air again. I caught a whiff of a familiar smell, but I couldn't quite place it. It was overpowering and outdated, the kind of cologne men used to wear when they still refused to bathe, the kind of cologne that filled the ballrooms of sweaty Victorian dancers, the kind you could smell on the battlefields of Waterloo, or in the court of the last King Louis. It was the smell of sandalwood, frankincense, sage and cinnamon…I knew that smell.

Dracula!

Just then, a great current of wind kicked up about me, tossing my hair up, and whistling loudly in my ears. The fragrance circled around me, along with a howling — it was not the howling of the wind, but the howling of sinister laughter.

He appeared slowly, not in a cloud of black smoke, as I often did, but as a translucent shadow of himself, and then, like an egg cooking, he solidified into an opaque white.

"Whoooooooooooh!" he howled.

He raised his hands in the air and with an expression of mock terror on his pasty white face, he howled again.

"Dracula," I said, as cool as a cucumber. "I see you haven't changed your cologne since the last time we met."

"Whooooooooh! I'm not Dracula, I'm the ghost of Harrison Hall! Aren't you scared?!"

"Buzz off," I said.

He dropped his arms.

"What you don't like my costume? I'm a ghost," he said.

"Yeah, it's great," I said. "I'm terrified. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh come, that's all you have to say? I mean, look at me! I'm a ghost! I've been practicing. I can, like, disappear and stuff. Do you want to see me walk through a wall?"

"Not really, no," I said.

"Come on, aren't you a little impressed? Just a little bit?"

He said this with his thumb and forefinger together, like a teacher to a child.

I don't take to kindly to patronizing, so I punched him in the gut. He doubled over.

"What was that for?" he grunted.

"Just wanted to see if you could walk through my fist," I said, grabbing him by the ear.

He squealed beneath me.

"Gah!" he shouted. "Lay off! Lay off!"

"Say mercy," I said.

"Mercy!" he shouted.

I let him go.

"Jeez!" he shouted as he rubbed his ear. "What's wrong with you? Where's your Halloween spirit?"

"I hate Halloween," I said.

"What's your costume, anyway? What are you, like, a construction worker?"

"I'm a cowgirl…just… shut up about Halloween, okay?"

"Fine. Then why are you here?"

"I'm looking for someone. Um… a friend. I know she's here."

"There are quite a few someone's here. You're gonna have to be more specific."

"Well, she's tiny — about yay high — fake dreads, fake glasses, fake lab coat, traveling with a real Amazonian."

"Ah-ha!" he said. "I know just the ones. They'll be in the gymnasium, I think. Scared the crap out of them with a little ghostly decapitation."

"Where did you learn all these stupid tricks anyway?"

"A magician never tells," he said with a wink.

I regarded him for a minute. He was a pain in the ass, but it was nice to see a familiar face.

"Well," I said, letting my arms down. "I mean, that door thing was pretty cool, I guess."

"Really? You think so?"

"Yeah," I said. "I mean, I wasn't scared, but like, you've got good dramatic timing."

"Aww! Thanks so much for saying that!"

He tried to hug me.

"No hugs," I said. "But I could use your help."

"Shoot! Anything for you, big sis!"

"First, don't call me that. Second, I need you to distract the Amazonian, give me some time alone with the tiny one."

"Look at you!" he said. "You always were so broody and romantic!"

I raised my fist, one more punch at the ready. He flinched.

"So, you'll do it?" I growled.

"That depends," he said with his hands in front of his face.

"On what?"

"Let's hang out sometime! I mean, I never get to see you!"

I thought for a moment.

"Fine," I said, letting my fist down. "But no brothels."

"Deal," he said, sticking out his white hand.

I reached for it and it vanished at the wrist. He snickered.

"God! You're so annoying!" I shouted, but I was laughing, too.