The Vegan Vamp

by S. E. Babin

  We all waved at Grace and watched her waddle away.

  “She’s so adorable,” Helen said wistfully.

  Sterling held the door open for all of us. “Get inside, ladies. Let me call your husbands.”

  “What about Maron?” Helen asked as she trudged in. “She doesn’t have one.”

  “Yeah, cause he’s about to marry someone else,” Katie supplied.

  Sterling sighed as he closed the door behind us.

  Hank was the first to show up. When he came inside, I blinked at how big he was.

  “Babe!” Helen cooed. She waggled her fingers at him.

  “She’s drunk?” he echoed for the third time incredulously.

  “Yep. One of the Comey sisters has a new formula for booze that affects the supes,” Sterling said.

  “That could be a disaster,” Hank murmured as he eyed his wife.

  Helen gave him a fierce grin. “Or so much fun,” she said.

  Hank’s rumbling chuckle caught me off guard. He swooped down and scooped Helen off the couch. “Come on, you lush. It’s time to go.”

  She swung her arms around his neck and planted a lingering kiss on his lips.

  “Do you know how long this is going to last?” he asked Sterling.

  “No idea.”

  “Let’s go, Hank. I have plans for you.” Helen wore a lascivious smile.

  Hank couldn’t get out the door fast enough.

  Martin was next. Power trickled from him in waves. As soon as he walked in and saw his wife drooling on Sterling’s couch pillows, he burst into deep laughter.

  “What the hell happened?”

  Sterling, who by now seemed to be really tired of repeating himself, just said, “Comey sisters.”

  Martin nodded and peeled his wife off the couch. He murmured a thank you to Sterling and gingerly cradled his wife in his arms as he made his way out the door.

  And then it was just the two of us.

  Unfortunately, the tequila was still buzzing around in my brain like a busy little bee.

  “So,” he drawled and sat down across from me.

  “So,” I echoed and gave him a hopeful smile.

  “How’d you get here?”

  I shrugged. “Magical GPS?”

  “I’ve seen weirder tonight,” Sterling answered. “I guess a better question is why?”

  “Curiosity,” I said. “Don’t really know.” The booze was making me feel a little woozy. I didn’t want to talk anymore. “I’m sorry I’m here, Sterling.”

  He fell silent but continued with the unnerving stare. His jaw clenched. “I’m not.”

  “You’re… not?” Color me confused.

  “No. I’ve missed you.”

  I waggled my index finger at him. “Is this the moment when you tell me things you shouldn’t because you know I won’t remember it tomorrow?”

  Sterling shut his eyes for a moment. Maybe he was praying for patience. “Maron, I like you.”

  I groaned. “Noooo. Is this one of those it’s not you, it’s me?” I threw my hands up in the air. “We’ve already established multiple times that it’s you!”

  Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “We can’t have kids,” he said.

  “I know.” Sadness made me tilt my head down to study my lap. “It doesn’t mean we can’t be together.” I took a deep breath and looked at him. “Do you really love her?”

  Silence stretched between us.

  “Because if you do, I’ll call a cab right now and never darken your doorstep again.” I rubbed my face. “It would be better if I could storm off dramatically, but I’m afraid I’ll face plant.”

  A smile quirked the side of his mouth. It was a slight upturn of his lips, but sadness was all over his face.

  “You aren’t going to answer me, are you?” I said. When he stayed silent, I let out the hopeful breath I’d been holding and pulled my cell phone out. I requested a cab or at least I thought I did and made my way to the door.

  “I already know the answer to this, Sterling.” I turned to face him. “It’s okay to be scared of something and still want it, you know. I know you want your freedom. But I deserve more. When I leave tonight, I won’t be back.”

  He didn’t respond.

  My shoulders dropped and I reached for the door.

  Nineteen

  Unfortunately for Portia, Sherry Comey’s booze didn’t wear off as fast as expected. I woke up two days later, starving and wondering for at least five minutes where the hell I actually was. It was like I’d come out of a coma and lost the last ten years of my life.

  “What the fuck?” I whispered to myself. I looked around the room wildly, my breath coming in deep gasps. I was about to start screaming when I recognized my dresser. My breathing began to calm down, and I collapsed back onto the pillows as my mind raced to piece together the events of what I initially thought were the last 8 hours.

  I lay there for a moment and things came back in bits and pieces. Grace was annoyed with us. Katie thought she was a judge. Helen probably violated her husband when she got home and Sterling… I swallowed hard. I’d walked out of Sterling’s house after telling him I’d never see him again.

  Sherry Comey was a diabolical soul. Maybe if we hadn’t drank quite so much, we could have had fun without tipping over the edge into straight up crazy.

  My stomach growled the song of its people. I didn’t feel bad but I was starving. Ravenous, in fact. Why in the hell was I so hungry?

  I found my way out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. I made a big ass pot of coffee which I planned to consume in its entirety and rummaged through the fridge for something. Anything.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Go away!” I yelled at the door. Food was first on the agenda.

  “Oh thank the gods! You’re alive!” came the voice from outside the door.

  “Helen?”

  “Katie and Grace, too.” There was a pause. “Do you have food?”

  A snort escaped me. I wiped my hands off and went to answer the door.

  A bark of laughter escaped Grace before she slapped her hands over her mouth. I stared in stark disbelief at Katie and Helen.

  “You two look like shit,” I said.

  Helen’s hair stood up on one side and mascara was smeared halfway down her face. Katie’s hair was even worse. Her usually shiny, straight hair was matted up on one side so far it stuck out of the side of her head several inches. Lipstick was smeared so far down her face, her chin was red.

  “Pot meet kettle,” Helen grumbled and shoved her way in.

  I frowned and paused to look at myself in the mirror before I shut the door.

  “Holy shit,” I muttered.

  There was a dent in my face from the edge of the pillow. My makeup had strayed into places it was never meant to be and my nose was swollen for some weird reason. I turned wild eyes to the women.

  “What in the hell happened last night?”

  “Wellll,” Grace said as she wandered into my kitchen. “Not last night. The night before, actually.”

  “The… what?”

  “Yeah,” Helen said, her voice grim. “That shit took us down for two full days. Can you imagine? Hank thought I was dead.”

  “I woke up and Martin had the entire Roma family standing over me holding vigil. They were holding candles and staring at me all freaky when I woke up. It took me ten minutes to stop screaming.”

  A laugh burbled up within me and once it came out, I couldn’t stop myself. Seconds later, Katie and Helen joined in. Grace stared at us, shook her head, and started cracking eggs into a bowl.

  “You bitches are crazy,” she muttered.

  We couldn’t even respond for a minute. Helen, holding her side, finally gasped out, “If you wouldn’t have been pregnant, your ass would have been right there with us, probably trying to touch everyone just so you could tell them how they’d die.”

  “Not true,” she said, but a small smile touched the edge of her lips.

  “Did
I grant any wishes?” Katie said in a small voice.

  All of us frowned as we thought back.

  Grace finally shrugged. “If you did, it was while I was in the bathroom.” She looked down at her tummy. “And I was in the bathroom last night. A lot.”

  “Oh gods,” Katie whispered.

  Grace rummaged through my cabinets until she found my mixer. After she’d finished beating whatever she was making, she turned it off and fixed us all with a grim stare. “Those things are relatively mild compared to what happened while you lushes were sleeping it off.”

  Listening with one ear, I got out several mugs and poured us all a huge cup of coffee.

  “The entire southeast forest was burned to a crisp,” she said.

  My hand stilled. “Excuse me?” I said quietly, a horrible realization rearing up. I’d slept right through Sterling’s experiment to send the drone up. “Oh gods.”

  “Yep,” Grace said. “Portia and I went to try to convince them to stop, but those guys are amateur scientists with a burning desire to debunk everything. We couldn’t stop it so we hightailed it out of there. We knew something was going to happen, but we didn’t know what.”

  “Are they okay?” I asked as I handed mugs out to everyone.

  “One tree was left standing. Their dryad managed somehow to get them all inside of it.”

  “Morgana,” Helen and Katie said at the same time.

  Grace nodded. “I do not know what they had to pay to get her to do that.”

  I took my coffee and perched on one of the island stools next to Katie. “What’s going on with the storm?”

  Grace shrugged. “It’s larger. Angrier. It started to rain again. If it doesn’t stop soon, things are going to start flooding.”

  “Portia is going to have to deal with the Comey sisters. Someone needs to get them involved to help combat this,” Helen said. “I’ve been working on a few things, but I’m not ready to go full scale war yet.”

  “War?” I echoed. “What does that even mean?”

  “Portia seems to think this whole thing has to do with her. Grace says we can expect a whole lot worse. But what I’m concerned about is Portia’s failure to do much of anything about it. She’s gathered us like some weird Charlie’s Angels team, but she hasn’t done much else,” Katie said.

  Grace frowned. “There’s more.”

  I took a long pull of my coffee. “Isn’t that enough for one morning?”

  All three of the women gave me a grim look. “It isn’t about Portia,” Katie said.

  “Oh?” There could be only one person this was about.

  “After the events of last night, Sterling moved up his wedding.”

  My heart plummeted. “Oh,” I said casually.

  “I talked to Portia about it. Apparently, Sterling’s parents are back in town. They saw what happened last night and feel like Sterling is being distracted with less important things than producing an heir. So… this was his parent’s doing, from what I understand,” Helen said. “Or at least that’s what she told me this morning.”

  “Well,” I said. “Sterling is a grown man. No one can make him do something he doesn’t want to do. If he’s moving his wedding up, he’s either chosen to succumb to pressure, or he wanted to do it. Either way, it no longer involves me.” I tapped my fingers on the counter in a nervous gesture.

  “The wedding is in three weeks,” Katie said quietly.

  “You got a waffle maker in here?” Grace asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  I pointed at one of the lower cabinets. Katie put a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry, Maron. If it’s any consolation, we all think he’s a real tool.”

  I nodded, unsure of my ability to speak right now. “Yeah, he is,” I said.

  We didn’t speak again until Grace set two fluffy waffles in front of each of us.

  Twenty

  Sterling

  Cherry was standing in front of me holding a large book full of fabric samples. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was Hell.

  “Which one?” she asked in that breathy voice that was beginning to grate my nerves down to the nub.

  “I don’t care,” I said honestly. “Pick whatever you want. My parents are paying for it.” This was true. When my mother found out about my impending marriage, she flew home immediately. My father had grumbled all the way. When they arrived and she saw me, she commented right away on the scent of strawberries. My heart plummeted right into my shoes because the ending of this was inevitable. She was going to realize I was not bonded to Cherry.

  Cherry had to know, too, but she was choosing to blissfully ignore what it meant. She never commented once about it, even when my brother and sisters had met her and wrinkled their nose up. A horrified look had stolen over each of their faces, except for Copper because he was prepared for it, and they’d both pulled me to the side to chew me out over it.

  When I explained that Maron was a vamp, they’d been mollified, but my sister was still furious at me. She’d been lecturing me daily about the importance of the soul bond, how it was never going to go away, and how if I kept ignoring it, it was going to make me sick.

  I knew all of this. I placed a chaste kiss on Cherry’s cheek and left her in my apartment as I drove to my parent’s house.

  Once I was inside, I sat down on one of the uncomfortable fabric chairs by the living room windows. Tonight was going to be the real clincher, though. Cherry was scheduled to meet my parents. I wasn’t sure how to prepare them for this meeting. I didn’t want to blindside them, but I also didn’t want them to be angry with me before the dinner.

  “You need to tell them,” Moira said, appearing at my side like a shadow.

  “They’ll be disappointed.”

  Moira rolled her eyes. “We’re all disappointed in you, idiot. That’s what you get for trying to play Portia Kadish.”

  “I didn’t try to play her,” I insisted. “I never wanted any of this.”

  “Well, congratulations, brother,” she said, her tone mocking. “You’re getting exactly what you asked for.” She touched my arm and walked away from me, leaving me staring out the window lost in my thoughts.

  My father’s voice shook me out of my reverie when he called my name. I followed the sound up to my father’s study. When I poked my head in, he motioned for me to come inside.

  “Shut the door if you don’t mind,” he said.

  I did so, wondering what this was about. My father pulled out a decanter of amber liquid and two glass tumblers. I sighed and sat down in one of the leather seats in front of his desk. This was going to be a heart-to-heart, I knew, and I wasn’t prepared for it.

  My father pushed a glass over to me.

  “Why don’t you explain what’s going on?” he said after a moment.

  “Nothing is going on, Dad.”

  His glass sat in front of him untouched. He steepled his fingers together and studied me. “I don’t talk a lot about my business, son. It’s boring and convoluted, but I do know a lot of people in this town and across the world. I also know the Blossom family. Very well.”

  My throat tightened.

  “I’ve met Cherry several times. Your mother doesn’t know this. She just thinks it’s wonderful you’re settling down. She has no idea what’s about to hit her if you bring this woman in our home. Especially with the other bond wrapped around you so tightly it’s a wonder it hasn’t tried to strangle you yet.”

  “So you know.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I knew the second your mother told me who the woman was. When I walked in and smelled the other woman on you, I thought about sending you through a wall over your stupidity.” He bared his teeth at me. “My question to you is why?”

  I sighed and tipped back the whiskey in one swallow. I set the glass down hard and glared at my father. “Why? Why?!”

  My father looked confused. “Yes, son. Why?”

  “Because you wanted to marry me off to some Italian woman I didn’t even know! I didn’t ev
en think you believed in arranged marriages. Why you thought I’d be content to wed some woman from a foreign country -”

  My father interrupted me. “Son, what in the hell are you talking about?”

  “The Bregoli’s!”

  He shook his head. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Then it was Mom,” I shouted. “You really need to communicate more! I had six months to find someone suitable and Cherry was the most biddable bride I could find.”

  My father was staring at me like I’d lost my mind. “There is so much wrong with every sentence you just said. First, biddable?” He burst out laughing. “Do you really think life is fun with a biddable wife? That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. Second, neither one of us knows who the Bregoli’s are. Someone is screwing with you. Hard core. And you were dumb enough to believe it. Why didn’t you pick up the phone and call us?”

  I was breathing like a bull stuck in a tight pen. “Moira,” I hissed.

  My dad rolled his eyes heavenward. “The only thing I’m going to say here is you are not allowed to kill your sister.” He flicked his fingers at me. “If I can give you any advice at all, it would be this. Fix this. Fix it before it’s too late. Yes, we want you married and we want an heir.” His eyes softened. “But we also want you happy. Whoever this woman is, she’s going to make you happy. That’s what the bond means.”

  I dropped my head into my hands. “She’s a vamp, dad.”

  My father let out a soft exhalation. “That’s not… ideal. But it isn’t the end of the world, son. We will deal with it the best way we know how. Now, go.”

  I stood, my shoulders slumped in defeat. Maron was so pissed at me, I wasn’t sure how to fix this.

  Or even if I could.

  Twenty-One

  Maron

  Two weeks later

  The note came just as I was about to walk out to meet Nat, the barista. She’d contacted me, finally, so I was going to treat her to lunch and talk to her about becoming an apprentice. I reached down for it and immediately paused at the handwriting on the front. The envelope was a thick parchment and my name was scrawled across the front. When I flipped it over, I saw the words Deadication Dating Agency embossed in gold on the flap.