by R.K. Ryals
***
“Mom, Dayton’s going to stay tonight if that’s ok!” Monroe shouted once we reached her house.
Loud banging noises led us to the living room, and I grinned at the disheveled middle-aged woman sitting on the floor outside the living room closet, her hair wrapped in a bright yellow bandana and a dust streak on her cheek. Half the contents of the closet sat in her lap.
“Remind me to just keep ignoring this closet when I decide to spring clean,” Mrs. Jacobs complained as we rounded the corner.
“It’s fall, mom,” Monroe pointed out. Her mom rolled her eyes.
“Details, details,” she murmured, pushing the contents of the closet off her lap and dusting off her pants as she stood up.
“Hello, Dayton. Fine by me if you stay. The Lady Ky okay with it?”
I nodded. Mrs. Jacobs clapped and dust fanned off her hands.
“Okay, then. Dinner’s ready when you want it. Dad had business out of town, and Robert is about to help me with this mess,” she warned before heading for the stairs. Monroe grinned.
“Robbie, watch out! She’s reverted to Robert!” Monroe yelled before pushing me toward the kitchen. I stumbled forward. Once inside, Monroe pushed me onto a bar stool.
“So, what are we going to do about all this?” Monroe asked.
I looked at my phone and shrugged. I’d been trying to reach my sister since we left the library. I wasn’t getting any answer at the Abbey.
“I honestly don’t know,” I mumbled.
I pulled a grocery list pad in front of me, and began doodling on it with a pen nearby.
“None of this makes sense,” I added as Monroe pulled the notepad away and replaced it with a dumdum. She popped a piece of Hubba Bubba in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
“My mom may wonder why she needs to pick up ‘Marcas’ at the super market.” she said knowingly, and I looked at the notepad she held up warily. Marcas’ name was scrolled on the first four lines. What the hell? Then it hit me.
“Marcas!” I cried out before jumping down off the bar stool.
Monroe watched wide-eyed.
“We get it. You’re obsessed. Do you have to clue in my mom and brother?”
I shook my head.
“I need to find Marcas! He can tell me what’s going on,” I said.
Monroe looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was.
“You want to go searching for a Demon vampire?” Monroe asked. I nodded and Monroe put a hand against my forehead.
“Are you ok? Running any fever? Seeing two Roe’s instead of one?”
I ignored her. She didn’t take that well.
“What the fuck, Dayton? He could kill you!” she cried out before covering her mouth with her hands when she realized she’d raised her voice. I looked over at her and frowned.
“He’s had two chances to try already, and he hasn’t done anything,” I pointed out. Monroe snorted.
“And if he’s the one your sister is suddenly warning you about—"
I shook my head. I couldn’t keep living in a hole, always hiding.
“If that’s the case, then he is the one I want to find.”
My words were more courageous than I felt.
Chapter 18
They are the children of a cursed race, Demons partly by blood. Whatever mortality they have comes from their father. I hope it’s enough.