A Rube Goldberg machine wraps around the base of the ceiling like tacky crown molding. Hot Wheels tracks, neon-colored gerbil tubes, a pulley system rigged with dental floss, two of those clackety ball things people keep on their desks, plastic cups and ladders the Slayer recognizes as pieces of the game Mousetrap, an analog alarm clock, and a jar full of marbles, poised to set the whole thing off just above the bedside table.

She releases a marble, watching it shoot around the ceiling, spinning fast and clattering like a pinball until it finally runs into a switch on top of the fish tank that releases exactly five food pellets that the fish gratefully slurps up.

Okay. So, this Jonathan has a lot of time on his hands and cares about keeping his fish alive. That doesn’t automatically make him a good person. And it doesn’t explain why he’s protecting the Black Flame flag. Or where he’s keeping it.

She tears through this room more aggressively than she had the other two. She throws the clothes out of his dresser, shocked that any one human being could own so many oversize striped T-shirts. She pulls up the mattress, which, upon glimpsing the teenage-boy detritus beneath, she immediately regrets. This is why she wasn’t chosen to fight humans. Slaying vampires never puts her face-to-face with anyone’s porn collection.

Throwing the pillows and blankets onto the bed, she feels a square lump inside the duvet. Praying not to find any more X-rated magazines, she tears open the blanket cover and fishes out a notebook.

Inside, she finds cramped handwriting and undated journal entries. The first page reads:

Mom and Dad sold the house today. The buyer never came to take a tour, and they sent a proxy to deal with all the inspections and paperwork, so Andrew is convinced that a vampire bought it. I guess a vampire might want a house with a sunken living room and wood paneling if they were turned during the 70s and miss it.

Warren’s mom said that I can come stay with them if I don’t want to move to Orange with my parents. Warren will even give up his gaming room for me. He says the garage will have more space for his computer, anyway.

I think I’m going to do it. I don’t want to drop out of school just because the Mayor wants to block out the sun. When Mister Burns on The Simpsons installed the Sun Blocker, it led to one of the best two-part episodes in the show’s history. I mean, everyone remembers Who Shot Mr. Burns?! I bet this whole eternal-darkness thing is just a campaign stunt. Warren says the Mayor has his eye on becoming president someday, and everyone will remember the guy who took the sun out of Sunnydale, no matter how long it lasts.

Flipping ahead, the Slayer reads another passage.