The Dangers of Dating a Rebound Vampire

by Molly Harper

  Tall and rangy, with mischievous seawater eyes and dirty-blond hair, Dick Cheney represented an unlikely blend of fierce loyalty and pure sketchiness. He filled the “unreliable but adorable uncle” role in my life, while his lovely wife, Andrea, was my grown-up fashion icon. Dick had taken pains to become more legitimate over the years under Andrea’s positive influence. He’d stopped wearing quite so many inappropriate T-shirts and invested in a number of legal businesses, but deep down, he would always be the guy you called when you needed the number for a topless housekeeping service.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, stretching my jaw to check for breaks.

  “The panic button on your key sends an alarm to Cal’s cell phone,” he said, almost sheepishly. “And I might have been waiting a block away so I could follow you on the drive home. Because Cal asked me to, not because I’m creepy or anything. When your alarm went off, he called me and told me to get my butt down here on the double.”

  I rolled my eyes, but the movement made me dizzy, so I just glared at him. “You, sir, are enabling a helicopter vampire.”

  “Cal’s just concerned for you!” he exclaimed, gesturing to my face. “And rightly so. What happened to you?”

  “A vampire attacked me, the deceitful bastard.”

  Dick frowned. “Deceitful?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Did you recognize the vampire who attacked you?”

  “No,” I wheezed, the weird, unsure tone of my voice undone by the pain provoked when Dick pressed his thumbs against my jaw. Technically, it was true. I didn’t recognize him. I had no clue who he was. That didn’t stop my feelings from being hurt. Jerk. “He just came up behind me and grabbed me.”

  Dick tilted my face away from him so he could search my neck for wounds. “But he didn’t bite you.”

  “He didn’t even try,” I told him. “Which I thought was weird. But he might not have had time. I unleashed the full complement of antivampire Cal-tech on him.”

  “Really?” He beamed at me.

  I laughed and realized I must have split my lip when my face smacked the ground. Hissing, I pressed my hand over it.

  Dick took out a pocket-sized first-aid kit and dabbed at my mouth with an antiseptic wipe. At my raised eyebrow, he explained, “When you work with Jane Jameson, you learn to be prepared for anything.”

  I recalled Jane’s supernatural origin story, which involved being mistaken for a deer, shot by a drunk hunter, and turned into a vampire. “Fair enough.”

  He pulled me to my feet and tried to pick me up.

  “I am not four years old,” I told him. “I will walk. Now, where the hell are my shoes?”

  His lips quirked into a fond little smile, reminding me of why I’d entertained a brief but intense schoolgirl crush on Dick for the first few months after my sister was adopted into his social circle. Buried deep underneath the many layers of sketchiness, he was sweet vampire nougat. “Come on, baby doll, let’s get you home.”

  As we searched the parking lot for my far-flung pumps, I gave Dick a detailed report on how I had used the silver spray brooch and the brush stake. My only regret was that I didn’t have a chance with the purse-sized flamethrower, because I was in the mood for toasting my mystery vampire like a hot blond Pop-Tart. Dick was thrilled that Cal’s sick little toys had served their purpose and promised to help Cal find me even better tricks for next time. I had a feeling his less reputable connections would be involved somehow.

  I filed the appropriate report with Ophelia, who, again, made me wait outside her office while she spoke to Dick. And given the yelling I could hear from Dick, I was sort of glad to be on this particular side of the door. Dick was not impressed with the security offered to the Council’s human employees, and he was making his displeasure as an undead citizen known at vocal decibels I didn’t know existed. This didn’t seem to faze Ophelia in the least, as she tossed Dick out of her office without a word of apology to me.

  After informing me that my unflappable boss expected me at my desk at the beginning of my shift the next day—assault was no excuse for tardiness—Dick insisted on leaving his El Camino at the Council office and driving my car home. I would have argued with him, but the adrenaline was slowly draining out of my system, and I felt as if I’d been hit by a truck.

  “Is there any sort of bribe I can offer that would allow you to handle this quietly, in a way that will not result in my sister completely freaking out?”

  “Well, that is going to be a problem,” Dick said, as we pulled into the driveway to find a half-dozen cars parked in front of our house. I recognized Miranda Puckett’s special black vampire-transport SUV and Gabriel Nightengale’s sensible blue sedan.

  I turned in my seat, glaring at Dick. “What did you do?”

  “I may have made a few phone calls on the way to get you.”

  “You sent up the Bat Signal?” I cried. “Before you even knew what was wrong with me?”

  “Somebody had to keep Iris contained!” he exclaimed. “She gets the same alarms from your key fob. I knew it would take that many vampires to hold her down.”

  I closed my eyes, shaking my head. “This . . . this is not going to go well.”

  Dick patted my arm sympathetically. “No, it is not.”

  • • •

  I fixed my face as best I could in the makeup mirror and straightened my clothes. There was nothing to be done about the scrape on my cheek, but everything else I could cover with powder. The moment the car engine shut off, Cal and Iris swept out of the house in a blur of movement. Iris got to me first, lifting me off the ground in a bear hug. “Gigi!”

  “Human!” I wheezed, as Iris squeezed the breath from my lungs and sobbed into my tattered jacket. Cal wrapped his arms around us both, resting his head against my bruised cheek. Over his shoulder, I saw Jane Jameson-Nightengale step out onto the porch with her tall, dark, and fangsome husband, Gabriel, and her childe, Jamie, who also happened to be my best friend. They stood on the porch, and while they weren’t related, it was amazing that they all wore matching expressions of concern.

  Also, I still couldn’t breathe.

  “Oxygen!” I wheezed against Iris’s grip. Shrugging loose, I asked, “OK, who’s ready for a thorough discussion of boundaries?”

  “Sorry! I’m sorry.” She sniffed, dropping me gently to my feet. “I just got so scared when the alarm went off, and Jamie and Jane had to pin me to the ceiling. And I bit Gabriel’s arm—I’m really sorry about that, Gabriel!” she called back over her shoulder.

  “It’s all right,” he said, rubbing absently at his torn sleeve. “It’s better than what Jane would have

  done.”

  I looked at Jane, who just nodded, because she knew he was right.

  Jamie took Iris’s release of my person as an open invitation to jump in and sweep me off my feet, too. As sunny and blond as a teen vampire could be, Jamie was exactly as he had been when we were classmates at Half-Moon Hollow High. Goofy, open, and affectionate, like a Labrador puppy with fangs.

  “You gave us a scare, kid,” he muttered into my hair.

  “I’m fine,” I insisted. “You should see the other guy. Hey, what’s this?” My hand snagged an envelope that was sticking out of Jamie’s back pocket. At this point, I welcomed the distraction and snatched it up for a closer look. “So what’s in the envelope?” I asked Jamie, waving the paper at him. “If you haven’t noticed, I am in desperate need of a subject change.”

  “My schedule!” he said, presenting the paperwork with a flourish. “My adjustment counselor at UK sent it in today’s mail!”

  I squealed with more excitement than you’d expect over a college class schedule and hopped up and down, hugging Jamie’s neck. After spending two semesters proving that he could function in a community-college classroom without devouring his classmates, Jamie was joining me at the
University of Kentucky that September.

  While I was thrilled about Jamie’s secondary education, Ophelia was not happy. She couldn’t move three hundred miles to campus with her boyfriend, because she had to stay close to the Council office. She was unhappy about the prospect of Jamie being out of her sight, away from public officials she controlled, near single girls she couldn’t track or intimidate. And she seemed to be blaming me for Jamie’s abandonment, since I had spent months helping Jamie wade through forms, releases, background checks, and other paperwork that vampire students had to file with their applications.

  And Ophelia was my new boss.

  For someone with above-average intelligence, I didn’t always think my decisions through.

  “I can’t wait,” he said. “I’m so excited. Thanks for making this happen for me, Geeg.”

  “All I did was help you with the paperwork.” I scoffed. “You’re the one ducking tradition and your bloodmate in order to major in sports medicine.”

  “Former jocks have to major in something,” he said. “And I’m not ducking my bloodmate. I am simply following my sire’s advice and getting an education. Ophe­lia understands.” When I made an indelicate horselike noise, he added, “She will understand, eventually.”

  “Yeah, that should make work less awkward if and when Ophelia ever decides to make eye contact with me,” I muttered.

  “OK, as happy as I am for you, Jamie—congratulations—can we change the subject back to my sister’s near-death experience?” Iris interjected. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the emergency room or something, Geeg?” She fussed with my disheveled hair. “Did you bump your head or—internal bleeding! You could have internal bleeding and not even know it. Let’s just load you into the car and pop down to the hospital for an MRI.”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted, shaking Iris gently. “Can we all just please go inside? I’d like to get out of this pantsuit and into some natural fibers.”

  I walked through the front door, shrugging out of my jacket and tossing it into the closest wastebasket. Cal and Iris had made the house more vampire-friendly after Iris’s transition. Cal’s historical presence was represented in the ancient-but-somehow-in-museum-condition bronze shield over the fireplace in the den and a marble bust of harvest goddess Demeter on the entryway table. But Cal had also made serious structural changes with Sam Clemson’s help, from heavy-duty sunproof shades mounted under the window shades to a security system that made Fort Knox look like the Bank of Mayberry. And the access door to the basement had been replaced with a much sturdier solid steel version, painted to look like wood but able to stand up to several grades of explosives.

  I would call Cal paranoid, but the scuff marks on my face made it hard to poke fun at him.

  The moment I walked into the parlor, I got a faceful of British vampire for my trouble. Cool, sandy-haired Collin Sutherland, with whom I’d been on a strict handshakes-and-firm-nods-only level for years, swooped in and threw his arms around me with so much enthusiasm that I was once again swept off my feet. It was nice to know I was loved, but the undead tackle-hugging was starting to become a little much.

  “I’m so sorry, Gigi,” Collin whispered. “So, so sorry.”

  His girlfriend, Miranda, who worked for Iris in Beeline’s vampire-transport department, approached us with a bemused but concerned expression on her puckish face.

  “As the only other human here, I’m counting on you to be the voice of reason,” I told her solemnly.

  “Who do you think kept them all here?” Miranda said, blowing a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. “Iris tried to rally the others to go to the parking lot and follow the scent trail of whoever hurt you. It was like a small, angry mob with fangs instead of pitchforks. Also, Zeb told me that he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to represent the other human voice of reason, but the twins are going through a gnawing phase. He didn’t want Iris’s furniture to get ruined.”

  I shuddered, picturing Jane’s very human childhood best friend, Zeb Lavelle, and his gorgeous werewolf wife, Jolene, trying to corral their adorable but destructive twins. I babysat the kids once so Zeb could take Jolene on a date night. I babysat them once. That was enough to make me question the wisdom of reproduction.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I asked, pointing to Collin, who, for the record, was still holding me several inches off the ground.

  “Collin’s feeling a little guilty,” she said. “He thinks he should have seen this coming. You know, with his—” Miranda waggled her fingers around her head in a way that I assumed represented Collin’s precognitive gift.

  Right. Collin had had a vague and barely helpful premonition over the Christmas break about me being attacked by a vampire. He had predicted that while none of the undead members of my circle of friends would hurt me, a vampire would eventually come after me. It was part of the reason I cooperated when Cal arranged my Hunger Games training.

  Poor Collin. He hated to be right.

  “Collin, I’m fine,” I assured him. “It’s not fair to beat yourself up over visions. And technically, you did see it coming while I was home for Christmas. And you took the time to warn me. You just didn’t have a lot of details. You did all you could.”

  “I never get enough details,” Collin grumbled. “And I could have followed you around in the ensuing months so I could protect you from what I saw.”

  “That would have become annoying really quickly,” I assured him. “And we never would have reached the stage in our relationship where we hug for socially inappropriate amounts of time.”

  Collin blanched and retracted his arms, dropping me to my feet, while Miranda snickered. By this time, the other vampires had trooped into the living room for what I could only assume would be a debriefing.

  “It’s really not a big deal, guys. I got grabbed from behind by a vampire, who probably saw me as an easy midnight snack. I proved him wrong. I don’t have any serious injuries. I call this one a win. Who wants something not-bloody to drink? Miranda?”

  “Gigi, do not make light of this,” Cal said, putting his arm around me to prevent my retreat to the vampire-friendly kitchen.

  “Making light of things is how I process,” I retorted. “Besides, who could blame the guy for trying? I’m awesome. What self-respecting vampire wouldn’t want a piece of this?”

  “And you’re so modest, too.” Iris sighed. “You’re quitting that job.”

  Well, at least she’d skipped “I told you so.”

  “I will not have you in and out of that parking lot every night, risking another attack,” Iris said. “You’re going to find a nice, safe office job, far, far away from vampires, werewolves, zombies, ghosts, or any other supernatural creatures. I don’t care if you have to become a telemarketer. I will keep you safe.”

  “I am not quitting that job, Iris,” I told her calmly. “This is a dream job for a programmer. More money and perks than I could make anywhere else, and I haven’t even finished my degree yet. I’m an adult, and if I choose to work somewhere, as long as it doesn’t involve pasties or a Webcam, you should respect that.”

  “We’ll talk about that later,” Iris said, snorting.

  “It could have just been a random attack,” Dick suggested. “It’s never happened in this group. But it is possible that Gigi crossed paths with a vampire with bad feeding habits, even outside the Council office, where Ophelia made it clear that such habits will result in quick, bloody, permanent death. Some vampires don’t listen and do what they want . . . I’m not helping, am I?”

  Andrea patted his arm. “You’re trying, sweetie. It counts.”

  Now that my heart rate had finally settled down long enough to let me think clearly, my feelings were more than a little hurt. Why had my vampire tried to hurt me? Before, he’d merely followed me around, skulking in parking lots, all broody and observant. And when he kissed me, it was like somet
hing out of a ­really good old episode of Buffy. Passionate and urgent, just a little bit filthy. I could practically hear the carefully selected indie rock playing in the background.

  Was it all a setup? Or had he just wanted to amuse himself by playing with his food? I’d spent all of this time thinking about him, hoping I’d meet up with him again someday. And now I felt like a first-prize idiot for not seeing what was right in front of my face. I was the human equivalent of a cat toy. And through this cloud of brooding and gloom, I heard Cal say, “So I called Nikolai. He can accompany Gigi to work starting tomorrow night.”

  My head snapped up, suddenly able to follow the conversation. “Wait, what?”

  Clearly, I wasn’t hearing what was right in front of my face, either.

  “Cal’s called in a favor from an old friend,” Iris said. “He will be following you to work every night and then home and anytime you leave the house at night. For . . . ever.”

  “That giant hamster ball I bought Jane for Christmas is also an option,” Dick suggested.

  “Dick, stop helping,” I begged him. “And Cal, what do you mean, ‘old friend’? As in you exchange occasional Christmas cards, or ‘remember that time we sacked Constantinople because we were peckish?’ ” Cal leveled an exasperated look at me, which I ignored. “It’s a valid question.”

  “Please take this seriously, Gigi.”

  “It’s hard to take this seriously, because I do not need a vampire bodyguard!” I exclaimed. “Don’t you think this is just a little bit of an overreaction? It could have just been a random attack, like Dick said. I may never see this vampire again. Besides, people in this little group have been attacked and kidnapped and had deer parts left on their doorstep, and they never hired a bodyguard.”

  “Well, do you notice that all those people are dead now?” Jane nodded toward Andrea and Iris. “OK, they’re vampires, but still. I think Cal is trying to get ahead of the situation, which is something this group has struggled with in the past.”

  “How did you even manage to arrange this so quickly?” I asked Cal, who was looking up at the ceiling, being careful not to make eye contact. Something was up. “Unless you’d already made the arrangements and were just waiting for the excuse to call him?” My brother-in-law was still studying the track lighting. “Cal, don’t make me get the flamethrower.”