Popcorn and Poltergeists

by Nancy Warren

  Rafe looked less excited by my idea than Hester did. He frowned down at the ground. “She’d have to be enrolled.”

  Between my witches and his vampires, I was convinced we could manage to get her in somehow. “Surely we could get her a temporary student ID.”

  “It’s a small college. Someone will notice she doesn’t belong.”

  Dr. Christopher Weaver, who ran a private blood bank that made him very popular with the other vampires, paused in mid-row. He was knitting himself a waistcoat in fine wool with a paisley pattern. Very natty. He looked up. “What if she posed as the friend of a student? Don’t they often have people visiting for the weekend?”

  Hester looked more enthusiastic than I’d ever seen her. I had a sinking feeling, though, that this might be a bad idea. From the fleeting glance he sent my way, I thought Rafe did, too.

  “Who could she possibly visit?”

  Dr. Weaver said, “There’s a young man I sometimes see at my clinic.”

  “He donates blood?” Would it really be such a good idea to put a moody vampire teenager in the same dorm room with a guy who liked to donate blood? She might think he should skip the middle man and give straight to her. I knew the vampires living downstairs were trying to stay away from the old ways, in order to fit in better in society. I was very supportive of their efforts.

  “No, he gets it from me.”

  There was a second of utter silence. Then Rafe turned to stare. “He’s one of us?”

  “He is, yes.”

  “But why have we never seen him?”

  “He doesn’t knit.”

  There was a tense moment as the two stared at each other. I didn’t fully understand the politics of my downstairs neighbors, but I got the feeling that Rafe liked to know all the vamps in town. Perhaps Christopher Weaver didn’t feel he needed to report to Rafe, who wasn’t technically in charge, though in practice, everyone turned to Rafe for decisions that affected the local vampires. “I see. And where does he come from?”

  Dr. Weaver straightened in his chair. “I didn’t sire him, if that’s what you’re getting at. He’s Spanish. Arrived as a language student and now he speaks perfect English, of course, and decided to stay. Since he did his language studies at St. Mary’s, he decided to stay there and do his degree.”

  “How old is he?” Hester asked, sounding a lot less miserable than usual.

  “Not much older than you, Hester, though he’s been one of us much longer.”

  “Can he be trusted?” Rafe asked, not looking pleased to discover this new vampire living among students. I thought of Judith and Fabrizia and all those nice kids thinking their biggest problem was a school poltergeist. And they had a vampire living in their dorm?

  Dr. Weaver went back to his knitting. “I’m not his keeper. He comes to me regularly, so I am confident his nutritional needs are being met without the need to supplement.”

  “You should have told me. Loners don’t do as well as those who have a community.”

  “In every world, there are lone wolves. You know that perfectly well.”

  “Maybe he’d be less lonely if he knew someone his own age,” Hester piped up. “I definitely want to meet him.”

  Rafe opened his mouth, but before he spoke, Gran said gently, “It would be nice for Hester to find friends her own age.”

  “Please, Rafe,” Hester said.

  I could tell he hated this idea, and I wished I hadn’t been so quick to agree with Hester that she could be of help mingling with the students. How was I supposed to know there was a lone vampire on the loose in the college? I agreed with Rafe. Christopher Weaver should have said something.

  “I need to meet him first,” Rafe said at last. “Only if I think he’s safe for you will I consent.”

  Hester made a sound like a cat who’s been thrown into water. “You ruin everything!” she shouted and then got up, threw her knitting on the floor and stomped to the trap door, opened it with a crash and closed it behind her with a bang.

  “Really, Rafe,” Mabel said. “You’re not very easy on the girl.”

  But Rafe was staring at Christopher Weaver, knitting with such concentration he seemed oblivious to everything around him, which I knew wasn’t true. “How many more are there?”

  The doctor glanced up then. “I beg your pardon?”

  Rafe all but ground his teeth in a snarl. “How many more vampires are making use of your blood bank that we don’t know about?”

  “None. And I don’t know what the fuss is about. He’s a polite young man. I invited him to come to a knitting circle, but he doesn’t knit. That’s all there is to it.”

  “You should have told us.”

  “Well, now I have. This is becoming tedious, my dear Rafe. Shall we move on? I’d like to tell you about this wonderful pattern I found on the internet.”

  Chapter 8

  The vampire knitting club meeting wrapped up at midnight. Or at least it did for me. My day was over, but the vampires’ day had barely begun.

  I hadn’t liked the conflict between Rafe and Christopher. I was fond of my vampires, and I shared Rafe’s concern that there was a lone vamp living in an Oxford college where females vastly outnumbered the men. I didn’t know if a male vampire was more likely to feed on a female; all I had to go on was folklore and horror movies. It wasn’t like I could ask a lot of questions of my downstairs neighbors. They kept that part of their lives very private from me. I did understand, though, why Rafe liked to keep tabs on all the vampires in Oxford, including the visitors. Everyone cohabited peacefully, and though most people didn’t know it, the vampire knitting club helped keep the streets of Oxford safe. But all we needed was a few young students showing up dead, blood drained, with fang marks on their necks, and there’d be a public outcry followed by a hunt. My kind knew all about witch hunts.

  I felt tired and twitchy as I walked through the darkened shop. I checked that the street door was locked and everything was put away for the night and then climbed the stairs to my apartment. I waited for Nyx to greet me. She nearly always came walking toward me, her tail high in the air when I returned home from a knitting club meeting. At the very least, I’d see her curled up on the couch, at least one eye open, watching me. She was nowhere to be seen and was no doubt out, when I really needed the extra affection.

  I heard a noise from the upper level of the flat. It was coming from my bedroom. No doubt it was only Nyx, but for some reason, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I knew that one scream would bring Rafe and probably a dozen other vampires to my side.

  I could also call the police. It wasn’t like they didn’t know how to find my place. They’d been here often enough. But something stopped me.

  There was no sign of forced entry, but then I’d just left creatures who tended to think locked doors were a suggestion rather than deterrent. Still, I picked up my cell phone to call for help if I needed it and remained at the top of my staircase. “Who’s there?” I called.

  I stood poised, ready to scream for help or call 999 when, to my shock and surprise, Hester emerged from my bedroom, holding a heap of my clothes over her arms. “There you are,” she said with high drama. “I thought you’d never get here. I need your help.”

  Since I had no idea why she was going through my wardrobe like the latest Marie Kondo convert, I asked the obvious question. “Hester. What are you doing here?”

  Once more, she sighed heavily, then rolled her eyes like I was the stupidest woman on the planet and headed toward the stairs, half of my belongings trailing behind her. “I would’ve thought it was obvious. I don’t know what to wear to college!” I should have been angry, but she looked quite desperate. Once more my heart stirred with pity for Hester, doomed forever to teenage angst.

  She was wearing my best jeans which, I was horrified to discover, hung loose on her bony hips, and over it she wore a gray sweatshirt from my Boston days. I noticed she had completely ignored the sweaters, scarves, hats, gloves, coats and dresse
s all knitted for me by the nimble-fingered vampires.

  “What’s wrong with your own clothes?”

  Once more the put-upon sigh. “I have absolutely nothing to wear. I’ve never been to college, and you have. Besides, you’ve been to St. Mary’s, and you know what they’re wearing.”

  I remembered what it had been like to be teenage and always convinced you were wearing the wrong thing, but it was after midnight, and I strongly suspected that Rafe was going to shut down her field trip to college in any case. However, I didn’t say that, as she was clearly in a mood.

  “I think you’re on the right track. But you might want to get a pair of jeans that actually fit you. Those look like your mother’s.” I knew that was inspired, because she gave me a horrified look and immediately began yanking my jeans off. “I’m not sure an old sweatshirt from an obscure Boston College is going to endear you to the brainiacs at Oxford, either.” That took care of the sweatshirt.

  She threw herself down onto my couch in her own black T-shirt and black leggings. “This is hopeless. I’ll never blend in. They’ll all laugh at me.”

  “No, they won’t. Everybody in college is more worried about how they look, what they’re wearing, and their grades in school to worry too much about you.”

  Her eyes gleamed with dark intensity. “But what about him?”

  Since I’d been a teenage girl myself, a period I preferred not to dwell on too much, I knew that “him” must refer to the only other vampire in Oxford who appeared to be single and about her age. I sat beside her, pushing a heap of my clothes out of the way. “Hester, we don’t know anything about him. Don’t get your hopes up.”

  She picked at the black nail polish on her thumb. “I can’t help it. I’ve never had a boyfriend. There wasn’t time before… I feel like a freak.” A blob of black nail polish flew onto the carpet. “I really want to meet him. Why is everyone trying to stop me?”

  If the single male vampire living in St. Mary’s College was anything like most college boys, he wouldn’t want to be smothered with affection the first minute he met Hester. The way she was acting, I thought she might drive away the only possible friend she might make of her own age. Besides, if he knew Christopher Weaver, he knew about the vampire knitting club. He’d chosen not to come near us. I suspected that was what bothered Rafe. Frankly, I shared his concern. “You have to play it cool. Don’t go throwing herself at him. Let him come to you. Men like a challenge.”

  For once, she didn’t get sarcastic or angry. She listened to every word I had to say. “That’s what I read on the internet and in those magazines that give dating advice.” She tossed her long, black hair over her shoulder. “I can be cool.”

  I was keen to encourage this new attitude. “That’s the spirit. I tell you what, Violet and I will take you shopping. We’ll get you an awesome college wardrobe that actually fits.”

  For the first time I could remember, Hester smiled at me. “Okay. Let’s do it. I must have a new outfit before Saturday.”

  And if Rafe wanted to prevent her from going to college, let him tell her himself.

  I was about to tell Hester that I needed to go to bed when, after the briefest of knocks on my downstairs door, Rafe appeared. He didn’t look surprised to see Hester, but she still asked, “How did you find me?”

  He gave her a sardonic look. “Sylvia went to your bedroom and discovered every article of clothing you own heaped on the bed or tossed on the floor and made a logical deduction.”

  Not bad. Even Hester looked impressed.

  She got to her feet, put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I’m going to college. And you can’t stop me.”

  I’m sure every one of the three of us knew that wasn’t true, but Rafe merely said, quite mildly, “Christopher set up a meeting for tomorrow. This vampire will come here, meet your family, and be introduced properly. Then, if we think it safe, we’ll proceed.”

  Naturally, Hester reacted to this the way any teenage girl would when told she couldn’t date without her parents’ permission. She flipped out. She grabbed my poor, discarded jeans and threw them at him. “You can’t stop me. You’re not my father. I never get to do anything. I hate you!”

  And then with that cat hitting water sound again, she pushed past Rafe and ran down the stairs. The door slammed. I think we both rolled our eyes.

  Rafe picked up my jeans from the floor and folded them before handing them back. “What a mess she’s made of your things. Shall I make her come back and put everything away?”

  I couldn’t imagine anything worse. “Please don’t make her come back. I should clean out my closet anyway.”

  “Is Violet helping you in the shop tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Why?” He didn’t usually concern himself with my staffing.

  “I’d like to take you to St. Mary’s and introduce you to the principal, Amelia Cartwright. They’ll be jumpy after the death in the library, and if you’re going to be spending time there, I want you to have the approval and permission of Professor Cartwright.”

  “Okay. Do you also want me to keep an eye on the student vampire?”

  Even though it was nearly one o’clock by this time, I didn’t feel tired anymore. I felt invigorated. Rafe had that effect on me. He began to pace. “I don’t like this, Lucy. Why didn’t he make himself known to us? And why did Christopher keep his presence in Oxford a secret?”

  “Maybe Christopher likes having a friend outside his usual circle. I don’t think you all have a lot of secrets from each other. Maybe this is his way of having something in his life that’s just for him.”

  He stopped pacing and turned to look at me. “You could be right. I hope you are.”

  “What’s the alternative? What are you dreading?”

  “With our history and reputation, you have to ask? All we need is one vampire to revert to the old ways and all this”—he gestured around the room, but I knew he was encompassing Oxford, the den downstairs, probably even Crosyer Manor, where he lived quietly and happily—“will be gone. We’ll be forced to scatter and start over. And where there’s one destructive vampire, there may be more.”

  I shuddered at the very idea. “What will you do to him if he’s…?”

  “Bent on causing trouble?” He didn’t give a second thought. “I’ll get rid of him.”

  Even though I knew Rafe was a vampire with a dark side, I’d become so used to relying on his help to solve crimes that his casual announcement horrified me. He must’ve seen the expression on my face, for he shook his head. “I’m not suggesting silver chains and bright sunshine. I will send him back to wherever he came from.”

  “But what if he’s not the only one?”

  His jaw clenched. “It’s nearly time for me to leave Oxford anyway. We’d leave and start somewhere else.”

  I felt something very much like panic banging away in my chest. “But what about me?”

  He looked at me, and the hardness in his face softened. “You’ll come with me, of course. I’ll never leave you, Lucy.” He crossed the room in two strides, took me in his arms and kissed me.

  Chapter 9

  The guy who came into my shop the next morning didn’t look like a vampire. He looked like a student. Being of Spanish descent, he wasn’t even that pale. His black hair hung to just above the shoulder. He had dark brown eyes, a strong nose and a cleft in his chin. He wore tight jeans, a green shirt and a leather jacket. His loafers were polished. I did not think this guy was here to maim and kill. He looked nervous, and I thought he’d dressed to impress. I also thought Hester was going to love him.

  All this I took in as I stepped out from behind the counter. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Rafael. He said to meet him here. I’m Carlos.”

  He spoke in perfect Oxford English, except when he said the word Rafael with a Spanish accent.

  I smiled. “I think you mean Rafe. It’s the old form of Ralph.”

  He smiled back, and his teeth were very
white. Oh, dear, maybe he wasn’t quite as harmless as he’d appeared at first glance. “One is always learning.”

  Wasn’t that the truth?

  Just then, Rafe came in the front door. They stood regarding each other, and then Rafe stepped forward with his hand held out, and the two shook hands.

  “I am Carlos.”

  “Rafe Crosyer. Shall we go into the back room? I thought we might chat for a few minutes.”

  Carlos inclined his head. “I am at your service.”

  We’d talked last night about how this meeting would go, and it had been my suggestion that they meet in the back room of my shop. It was quiet, private, and if everything went well, Rafe could take Carlos downstairs and introduce him to Hester, who knew nothing about today’s meeting in order to avoid the inevitable drama. Most of the other vampires knew about the meeting and were more than ready for a confrontation should one become necessary. Rafe had promised me they’d get rid of him without violence if possible, but having met the young vampire, I didn’t think he was out for blood. Though it was curious that he hadn’t come around before.

  The pair went into the back room, and Rafe made certain the curtain was completely closed behind them. I hovered nervously out front, hoping it was all going okay back there. I heard their voices rise and fall, and I might’ve stepped closer to the curtain and tried to eavesdrop except that a customer came in just then. By the time the woman had chosen colors for the blanket she was knitting, the male voices had ceased. I crept closer and peeked through the curtain to find no one in the back room. That was a very good sign, and meant that Rafe had taken Carlos downstairs to meet Hester and the other vampires.

  I was alone in the shop and so I couldn’t go downstairs if I’d wanted to. All I could do was hope Carlos was making a good impression and Hester was taking my advice and trying to stay cool. About an hour later, Hester came rushing in and threw her arms around me. This was another new experience, being hugged by the cold, bony Hester. “Oh, Lucy, can you believe it? Isn’t he gorgeous? Did you see those eyes? That hair. I hope he liked me.”