by Molly Harper
“Your cousin’s out there in public, huggin’ a bunch of vampires like she doesn’t have a care in the world,” Mama huffed. “Like vampires haven’t looked down their nose at us since before time began. Like everything is just rainbows and roses. And now she’s corrupted you along with her.”
“Mama, honestly, this has nothing do with Jolene.”
“Y’all be careful when you talk about the Alpha’s daughter,” Daddy stepped between us and growled in a low voice. “She’s still everybody’s favorite, even if my brother should have disowned her the minute she moved off the packlands.”
Considering Daddy’s own wanderings, this seemed more than a little hypocritical. This was definitely not the time to bring that up.
“Tylene’s always careful to stay on Jolene’s good side,” Mama said, her eyes begging me to help her change the subject. “She’s watching the twins on Monday night for her. Aren’t you, hon?”
I nodded. “They need a ride to some music class. Jolene’s got a meeting she has to go to.”
“See? That’s the sort of thing we want to see you doing with your time. Helping out the pack,” Daddy said, nodding, his mood suddenly lifted. “But when you’re out, you answer your mama’s calls, no matter what. And her texts. Otherwise, we come looking for you. And you know we can track you if we want to.”
When I opened my mouth to argue, he cut me off with a sharp gesture. “End of discussion. Now, why don’t you go on to bed? I’ll ask Hank to come by to talk about your shift tomorrow morning.”
“But—” He leveled me with a look and I clamped my lips shut. “Goodnight.”
I turned on my heel and walked to my room. I was careful not to slam the door. I sank onto the bed and rubbed my hand over my face. I’d been having such a nice, quiet night. How had so much gone so wrong so quickly? I hated arguing with my parents. It was always so pointless and frustrating. And I knew, just like I knew that I’d accomplished nothing talking to them, that I would end up working that damn butcher shop shift the next morning. Because I would feel too guilty to tell my sweet Uncle Hank “no” to his face.
Robotically, I changed into my pajamas and got ready for bed. As I pulled the blankets up to my chin, I realized I hadn’t looked for that replacement stock image for the sword. I would have to get up early to look for one in the morning.
I closed my eyes and the vampire’s face floated to the surface of my mind. Never mind the fact that he was a gorgeous specimen of man…vampire…manpire? He’d been so polite—just unfailingly appropriate and considerate. How sad was it that I was so impressed by basic manners that was what I remembered about him?
It didn’t matter. I doubted I would see him again.
2
“A stagnant vampire is a vampire who loses their will to live. Be open to new experiences. Otherwise, you’re just wasting your eternity. Nobody likes an eternity waster.”
—A Gentleman in Any Era: An Ancient Vampire’s Guide to Modern Relationships
* * *
A vampire named Dick Cheney made me the best cappuccino I’d ever had.
My life was very strange.
I sat at the shiny maple bar at Specialty Books, scanning the shelves as I sipped my frothy coffee drink. After seeing Jane Jameson-Nightengale’s name on library plaques over the years, it was sort of shocking to find myself inside her shop, with its comfortable purple chairs, restful purplish-blue walls and twinkling fairy lights. The air smelled of coffee and old paper and dried herbs inside the pots lining the back wall. I could also smell the tang of blood in the air, which was a little off-putting, but I found I didn’t mind it all that much. It wasn’t that different than hanging out at Hank’s butcher shop.
Western Kentucky harbored a secret supernatural world that was downright magical that I never even knew about, and I was a freaking werewolf. How had I never visited this store in my twenty-four years? Of course, I knew that vampires were a thing. Vampires had even been part of human daily life for almost twenty years now, since a vampire accountant from Milwaukee decided to launch his species out of the coffin with a lawsuit.
Were-creatures were more reluctant, preferring to watch how the vampire Coming Out played for a few…decades. It turned out to be one of our more prudent decisions as a species, considering how immediately after finding out that they’d lived alongside the blood-sucking undead for centuries unawares, humans ran out to buy silver and stakes by the ton. If humans knew how many people around them could shift into any number of animals—bears, wolves, big cats, even skunks—I shuddered to imagine what they would do. Of course, no were wanted to admit that the vampires were braver than us. We chose to think of it as being “cautious.”
But even with my more “liberal” supernatural education, I had no idea there was a treasure trove of supernatural literature guarded by the undead right in the middle of town. I’d heard Cousin Jolene talk about “the shop” before, but being so removed from that part of her life, I’d never connected it to the little storefront I’d driven past probably a million times. Even with the bright blue-violet awning, I’d sort of assumed it was a sketchy adult bookstore…Come to think of it, there had been an adult bookstore next door at one point. But I’d never imagined what a cozy, cheerful space was inside, lined with more books than even I could read.
Of course, I didn’t spend a lot of time in this neighborhood. There were a lot of vampire-owned businesses here, not to mention its proximity to the local headquarters of the Council for the Equal Treatment for the Undead. And while I didn’t have a problem with vampires, sometimes the older ones didn’t much like my kind…except for that one vampire…who’d I thought about pretty much constantly since Friday. I hadn’t returned to the library. I’d spent the weekend behind the counter at the butcher shop, taking customer orders and cleaning out the fridge cases. I liked to think I did enough cleaning to justify working so few days there.
In order to finish the Celtic email campaign, I ended up staying up past midnight, searching stock art sites over the weekend. I didn’t hide under my covers with a flashlight and my laptop, but it was a near thing. The clients were happy. That was all that mattered.
“You need a warm-up?” Dick Cheney—the vampire, not the vice president—asked from behind the bar. He was definitely a different sort of vampire than “my” library vampire, handsome in a roguish way that I didn’t quite trust, even though I wanted to snatch his “In need of supervision” t-shirt. And it felt like he didn’t trust me, either. He’d watched me carefully for the past twenty minutes, as I’d waited for Jolene to show up with the twins for their Monday night class. I didn’t know if it was because I was a werewolf in a vampire shop or because I was the first member of Jolene’s family he’d met since her wedding all those years ago.
“I’m fine, thank you. It’s delicious, just the right amount of milk.” I drained the cup, carefully swiping my top lip for errant foam.
“Well, if you need anything, just let me know,” Dick said, smiling awkwardly. Brow raised, I bent my head over my phone, scrolling through my Fiverr account for job offers. I had enough to keep me busy for the next few months, which was gratifying. I glanced up and caught him staring again, his expression concerned.
“Is everything all right?” I asked. “I’m not gonna steal anything, I swear. Jolene’s told me all about you, and the rest of her friends here. I would never do anything to hurt friends of the pack.”
“Oh, sweetheart, no!” He burst out laughing and patted my hand. It was curiously cool against my naturally warm skin, making me think of the library vampire again. Is this how his hands would have felt?
Nope, nope. Stop those thoughts right now.
“I know you wouldn’t steal anything!” Dick exclaimed. “But I’m trying to find a way to say this without offending you.”
“It’s nice that you’re concerned about that, but I’d rather you just come out with it.”
“You smell like blood,” he said. “Old blood, new blood, just lots
of different kinds of blood, from different creatures. It’s not all that unpleasant for me, but I just want to make sure—are you okay? Are you safe? Do I need to call someone?”
Now, it was my turn to laugh. “Oh, no! I worked in my family butcher shop this weekend and the smell kind of gets into your hair, your skin. I don’t even notice it anymore.”
“Oh, it’s just butcher shop blood, that’s good…which is a sentence I never thought I’d hear coming out of my mouth. I had this image in my head of trying to explain to Jolene that something was going on with her cousin and then she’d wolf out in the store. The cleanup involved.” He paused and shuddered.
A pretty brunette woman stuck her head out of the office, a confused expression on her face. “What about butcher shop blood?”
“Oh, like that’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever heard me say,” Dick shot back.
“True enough.” The woman walked out of her office, carrying a box of books on her hip.
“Jane, this is Jolene’s cousin, Ty. Ty, this is—”
I stuck my hand out with what was probably too much enthusiasm. “Jane Jameson-Nightengale. I know. I spend a lot of time at the library. Thank you so much for everything you’ve donated. I get this weird feeling you only did it to mess with Mrs. Stubblefield, but it’s made my life easier.”
Jane grinned. “You’re welcome…and you’re very perceptive.”
“I knew it!” I whispered, holding up my fist in triumph and making Jane giggle.
Behind me, the little cowbell over the door jangled and the shop was filled with what could only be described as “thundering chaos.” Jolene McClaine-Lavelle herded two unnaturally tall eight-year-olds through the door as they chattered and bounced off of each other, the shelves, the stools. Joe, a serious boy with his father’s sandy hair, was wheeling a cello case nearly as tall as he was. He was wearing a t-shirt that read, “They told me I could be anything and I chose ‘kid who plays a musical instrument the size of a car.” Janelyn’s case fit under her arm. Her t-shirt read, “Will trade sibling for a Stradivarius.”
They were beautiful children and just smart enough to be worrisome. And Uncle Lonnie and Aunt Mimi absolutely doted on them, meaning that no one in the pack dared do anything else.
“Hey, Twin Terrors!” Dick crowed as the children launched themselves over the counter with an agility that would have been impossible for entirely human children. They threw themselves at “Uncle Dick,” and only his super-human strength kept him from toppling over into the scary copper espresso machine.
While I wasn’t insecure about my looks, Jolene was widely acknowledged as the family beauty—the McClaine auburn hair, high cheekbones, wide green eyes and a figure only made lusher by bearing two babies. It was probably why my family was so embittered by Jolene’s marriage. The McClaines could have forged a bond with some well-to-do pack with Jolene “on offer.” But instead, they saw her as being wasted on a goofy, affable human.
Secretly, I thought Zeb was a far better partner than any girl in my pack landed. He was funny and kind and didn’t feel the need to prove that he was in charge all of the time. But I would never ever say that to my parents. I didn’t want to know whether they believed they could ground me.
“It’s all right,” Jolene whispered out of the side of her mouth, picking up on my alarm as the kids crawled on the vampire like he was a jungle gym. “I know I don’t bring the vampires around you much, but Dick and Andrea and the rest have spent just as much time with the kids, if not more, than the pack. They just love their Uncle Dick to death. Hell, they have sleepovers at Jane’s every other weekend so Zeb and I can have a date night.”
I suddenly remembered a very loud argument just after the twins were born, where the whole pack spent Thanksgiving unanimously freaking out because Zeb and Jolene asked Jane and Gabriel to babysit the kids. It had seemed very sensible to me, to leave your newborns with someone with super-sensitive hearing who didn’t need to sleep at night. My relatives had not agreed.
Like this charming little nook of supernatural wonder, her relationship with these vampires was a whole piece of Jolene’s life I didn’t know about. And in our family, that was a damn miracle.
“I can’t believe you went on the Internet specifically to get smartass string instrument t-shirts,” Jolene muttered. She turned to Jane. “I told you to delete his Etsy account.”
“Andrea says he keeps finding ways to set up new accounts. He’s surprisingly tech savvy for a senior citizen.”
“There’s no limit to the number of email accounts you can open!” Dick said, while the kids hung off of his arms.
Jolene handed me a small musical case, while lugging a larger wheeled case up to the bar. “I really appreciate this, Ty. Zeb got elected to some sort of important staff committee for the school, poor soul, and I promised Jane I would attend this meeting for local supernatural muckity-mucks. Represent the pack, you know?”
You would never know it looking at them, but Dick and Jane were the big muckity-mucks with the local office of the Council for the Equal Treatment of the Undead. They were sort of like the Alphas of the local vampires, regulating their behavior, communicating with the human community and helping other supernatural species maintain their cover. According to Jolene, vampires were way less bite-y and way more socially responsible under their recent leadership.
“It won’t be fun, but it will involve a really tedious and lengthy agenda,” Jane chirped.
“Stretch, you’ve gotta stop trying to sell it with words like, ‘tedious,’” Dick told her.
“I know,” Jane admitted. “But Jolene’s family. I don’t like lying to her.”
Hearing someone else calling Jolene “family” left me with an odd sensation in my chest—empty and sour. And to my surprise, I didn’t feel possessive insult at the very idea that someone was trying to claim my cousin. It was a different sort of jealousy. Jolene had found a place here in the outside world, independent of the pack—hell, almost in spite of the pack. She had a life and people who loved her for herself. I hated to imagine what I would trade for that.
“Uncle Lonnie didn’t want to go to the meeting?” I asked, clearing my throat. “Did Jane use the word ‘tedious’ on him, too?”
“Wow, we reached the mockery stage of our relationship really quickly,” Jane told me, throwing up her hands.
Jolene shook her head. “You know Daddy. He accepts the idea that working with the vampires is better for us, but he just doesn’t like the idea of doing it himself. Besides. I’ve been friends with Jane for years. If anybody’s going to be cooperative, it’s me. Daddy, not so much.”
“That’s a really good point,” I conceded.
“And when I tell anybody in the pack that the kids are getting special lessons for cello and violin, they act like I’m getting all snooty. ‘What’s next? You gonna put them in private school? You gonna start taking vacations in Europe?’” she huffed, mimicking what I thought maybe was Aunt Lurlene’s voice. “It’s not like I can sign them up for team sports. They’re faster than all of the other kids—like, obviously faster. And Janelyn is so competitive, she doesn’t know how to hold back. They’d boot werewolves out in the open before the end of their first practice.”
“Jolene, I get it,” I assured her. “We weren’t able to play sports, and it’s not like we were able to afford extra music lessons. You’re trying to do something good for your kids.”
“And not get mocked for it,” Jane added.
“Exactly. It’s what good parents do,” I agreed. “I’m really impressed.”
Jolene took a deep breath. “Thank you. It’s good to hear that from someone who grew up like we did. Here are the keys to the van. I’ll ride with Jane and Dick to the meeting. I texted you the address for the music studio. Just make sure they eat their jerky snacks on the way to class. It’s two hours long and the last thing you want to do is to hand wooden sticks to a couple of hangry werewolf cubs.”
“Mu-ohm, they’re cal
led bows,” Janelyn sighed in that derisive tone only tweens could manage toward their parents. “And it’s not like you can hurt anybody that bad with them.”
“Watch the sass, Janelyn, or there will be no triple cheeseburgers after class,” Jolene informed her daughter in her nasal twang.
Having a voice that could peel paint was Jolene’s only real flaw. Janelyn seemed to sense she’d gone too far and mimed zipping her lip.
Jolene told me, “I left cash in the glove box. Our drive-thru bills can get really ugly. Just tell the cashier it’s the Lavelle twins. They’ll know what to do.”
“Which fast food place?” I asked.
Jolene jerked her shoulder. “Any of them. We’re known pretty much everywhere.”
Thinking of the amount of food my own family could put away at any given meal, I nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Okay, kids, have a great time,” my cousin said, kissing each of them on the top of their heads. As the twins trooped out of the door, Jolene handed me a pair of packaged, high-end foam earplugs.
“Why?”
Andrea winced. “Trust me, you’re going to need them.”
“What have I agreed to?” I asked Dick.
Jane sniffed, smirking at me. “Suddenly ‘tedious’ doesn’t sound so bad, now does it?”
I had to add “special violin studio” to the list of things I didn’t realize existed in the Hollow. The nondescript, beige cement block warehouse was on the industrial side of town, painted with a stately sign reading Half-Moon Hollow Music Academy. If I hadn’t seen a parking lot full of cars, I probably wouldn’t have stopped there with children. But the twins ran in with a confidence that spoke of familiarity—or at least, the recklessness of being eight.