by Parker Blue
"No problem. Once we get your bedroom decorated, we'll work on your clothes."
I didn't trust that gleam in her eye. I glanced down at my jeans and sweatshirt. “What's wrong—"
"Val!” someone yelled.
I glanced around and saw my perky, blond, half-sister hurrying toward me, beaming. “Val, you're shopping,” Jennifer said, as if it were an earth-shattering event.
As she almost strangled me with a hug, and her ponytail whacked me in the face, I said, “Yeah, Gwen talked me into it."
Behind Jen, I heard an exasperated, “Jennifer, I told you not to run through the mall like that.” It was Mom, and she came to an abrupt halt when she saw me. Surprise and chagrin crossed her face, then she came forward more slowly. “Hello, Val.” There was a lot less tension in her face than I was accustomed to. Had kicking me out made her happier?
"Hi, Mom.” My pleasure in seeing my sister—back to normal after the recent events, in which Lily had held her hostage at Alejandro's house—dimmed. Gwen nudged me. Oh yeah, introductions. “This is my roommate, Gwen, Dan's sister. Gwen, this is my little sister, Jen, and my mom, Sharon."
They all made polite noises and Jen said brightly, “What are you shopping for? Christmas? Are all those bags yours?"
"All just for me,” I said, feeling selfish. Mom and Jen always shopped early for the holidays, but I was the last-minute type. “Gwen was helping pick out some things to decorate my room. It's kind of boring and blah."
"Cool,” Jen said. She peered inside the largest bag. “Oh, sweet. Aren't these colors sweet, Mom?"
Jen was trying a little too hard, but I appreciated the effort.
Mom dutifully looked in the bag. “Yes, very nice,” she said. But what I heard in her tone was, I'm only being polite to please my real daughter.
Strange how Mom could make me feel like a kid, and unwanted, again, all with a few simple words. Wait—she could only make me feel that way if I let her. And I was determined not to let her. I had a place of my own now . . . a job, friends. I didn't need her anymore.
"We were just going to go to lunch,” Jen said brightly. “Why don't you join us?"
Crap. Eating lunch with a churning stomach didn't sound like fun. I glanced at Mom.
She smiled politely and said, “Yes, why don't you?"
Well, at least she was trying to be pleasant. Guess if she was making the effort, I could, too. Otherwise, I wouldn't get to see Jen or Rick much. I glanced at Gwen. She knew my history, and though she looked sympathetic, she was obviously leaving the choice up to me.
"Okay,” I said. “Where do you want to go?"
We decided to eat at Chili's, and headed in that direction. Jen, thinking she was being subtle, drew Gwen slightly ahead, babbling away and asking her questions.
"How have you been?” Mom asked in a carefully neutral tone.
Just as cautiously, I said, “Fine. I have a great job, great friends."
"I knew you'd land on your feet."
She did? She really thought I'd be okay? Well, that was a small consolation for her kicking me out of the house. Very small. “Uh, how about you and Rick?"
"Fine. We're doing fine."
Sheesh, could this be any more awkward? “And Jen? Is she doing better now?” No longer trying to be like me, no longer scaring the heck out of her parents by consorting with vampires?
"Yes. And you?” Mom asked tightly. “Are you learning to control your . . . self better?"
What had happened to make her sound all pissed off again? Her gaze darted toward a group of guys up ahead. They were watching us, laughing too loud, and strutting.
Oh. Mom thought my inner demon had caused this masculine showmanship. But after feeding on Shade this morning, Lola had no interest in a bunch of young idiots. At first I was a bit ticked that Mom automatically assumed I was to blame, then realized she had no reason to believe differently. Sighing, I said, “Stop here a minute."
"Why?” But she did as I asked. Gwen and Jen kept on going.
The heads of the ratty pack swiveled away from me. They ogled Gwen and Jen instead.
"See, I'm not the only one who can generate lust.” Gwen and Jen could do that all on their own, no succubus required.
Mom nodded. “I see.” As we started walking again, she added softly, “I'm sorry for making an assumption."
Whoa. Mom, apologizing? That was a first. Maybe we could actually have a civil conversation? I nodded to accept her apology, and we proceeded in silence to Chili's.
Once we got there, Jen did most of the talking over lunch, asking me about my decorating, grilling Gwen about her job, and raving about some Christmas dance she had coming up next month and the dress she'd bought for it. Everyone was very polite and careful not to mention anything remotely weird. All very normal.
Stepford Wife normal, anyway. It may have looked ordinary from the outside, but inside, it felt rather surreal, like I was caught in one of those old Nick At Night Brady Bunch reruns. Only Marsha never had to stake a vampire or battle her inner succubus. As I pushed my half-eaten burger and fries around the plate, I wondered if maybe Mom and Jen thought that if they didn't mention my world, it would cease to exist. Good luck with that.
A worse thought occurred to me. Maybe they were avoiding the topic because they were ashamed of me, of my job with the SCU. After all, it had almost gotten Jen killed.
Nope, wrong. Jen had almost gotten herself killed by being stupid enough to hang around vampires when she wasn't equipped to deal with them. But Mom probably blamed me. I felt an urge to poke at the sore spot to see what would happen. Sure, it might open the wound wider, but I needed to know how they really felt.
When we were all finished eating, Gwen excused herself to use the restroom. Once she was gone, I blurted out, “Gwen knows what I am."
Silence fell, and Mom looked uncomfortable.
"We figured,” Jen said.
Okay, so that wasn't why they were avoiding the topic. “Any ill effects from Lily's control of you?” I asked Jen.
Mom winced but Jennifer shook her head, her blond ponytail bouncing. “Not a one. Of course, I'm smart enough not to do that again."
Yeah, avoiding vampires was probably best all around. For people like her, anyway . . . normal people. “I hope so,” I said, grinning. Jen was still her old self and didn't seem to have changed around me at all. Maybe she was being discreet, for Mom's sake.
"So, what are you doing with your free time these days?” I asked Jen. In other words, how much of a leash did Mom and Rick keep on her?
Jen shrugged. “Oh, you know. Just school stuff and working at the store."
A pretty tight leash, then. “Is Rick running the store all alone today?” They usually liked to have two people there.
"No.” Jen grimaced. “The dark and broody one is there with him."
I raised my eyebrows. “Who?"
"You know,” she said. “A de—” She broke off and cast a guilty glance around the restaurant. “I mean, someone like you."
Oh, that's right. Rick had mentioned that Mom had relented enough to let him hire a part-demon, in thanks for what Micah's people had done to help free Jen and Rick from Lily. “I assume he has a name?” I asked.
"Joshua,” Mom said. “Do you know him?"
Hmm, not what I'd expected. Sounded to me like Andrew. “I know a Josh, but I don't think of him as all that broody.” Introspective, maybe. Quiet. If it was the same guy, Jen and I must see people differently.
"Sheesh,” Jen said. “All he does is mope around, and when he doesn't act like the end of the world is coming any moment, he looks angry at everyone."
"He's polite to the customers,” Mom said, defending him.
Jen rolled her eyes. I gathered he wasn't all that friendly to her. Maybe her vanity was hurt. Or not. My little sister wasn't exactly the self-absorbed type. “Might be a different Josh,” I said. It wasn't an uncommon name.
"Probably,” Jen said wryly. “If you knew this one, you
'd probably throw him to the vamps the first time he opened his mouth."
"Jennifer,” Mom said, low and tight as she glanced around the restaurant. “Don't say that word."
What word? Oh . . . vamps.
Jen cast her eyes down. “Sorry, I wasn't thinking."
Gwen came back then and sat down, looking surprised at the tension at the table.
"It's okay,” I told my little sister. “After all, they're coming out of the closet, so many people know about them."
Mom compressed her lips together but didn't say anything. Perversely wanting her to say what she was really thinking, I deliberately brought up the subject everyone at the table had been avoiding. “I'm doing much better at controlling my inner demon, Mom. Micah is helping me.” So was Shade, of course, but I decided not to explain exactly how he was helping me.
My mother opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, then glanced at Gwen and shut it again. Ah, it must be the stranger's presence that was causing her to be so polite. Persisting, I said, “But I do have a question. Did Rick ask you about my father's background?"
"No. What about him?” she asked, squirming. Obviously, it wasn't something Mom liked to talk about.
"Do you know if he has some other kind of demon in his gene pool?"
Startled, she asked, “Like what?"
"I don't know. Something strong, that heals quickly and is super fast.” Something like me.
"No. Aren't those skills . . . part of what you are?"
"Not so far as Micah knows. Did my father have these abilities?” She ought to know—she'd lived with him for a year or so, before the divorce.
Mom frowned, thinking. “Not that I recall."
"Then where did I get them?” I asked softly. A sudden thought occurred to me. “Do you have any demons in your side of the family, maybe way back, like a great-great grandfather or something?” Maybe it was dormant in her and Jen and came out in me because of Lola.
Mom looked appalled. “Of course not. There's nothing like that in my family at all."
Ouch. “Nothing except me,” I reminded her. “Or did you forget I'm part of your family, too?"
"Mom didn't mean it that way,” Jen protested.
For some reason, it ticked me off that she defended Mom. Gwen looked decidedly uncomfortable. I felt a little bad about that, but heck, she was part of a family. She knew what family baggage was like. I let loose. “The hell she didn't."
"I didn't,” Mom confirmed. “I didn't mean to—"
"You never mean to,” I snapped back. “Yet you always manage to treat me like I'm a total stranger, a freak, not a real member of the family.” Why the heck were my eyes suddenly stinging, anyway?
Mom covered my hand with hers. “Val, I'm sorry. There's some truth in what you say."
"I know,” I muttered as I pulled back my hand and wiped at my eyes.
"But you have to understand I've managed your . . . situation . . . in a way I thought was best for everyone."
I closed my eyes, blocking out the view of everyone's expressions—Mom's earnest, Jen's anxious, and Gwen's compassionate. I sought for that calm quiet place deep inside me, but it was elusive today, too obscured by the emotions roiling inside me.
One side of me said, “Mom's really trying.” But the other side retorted, “Yeah, but it's easy for her, now that she's gotten me out of her house."
The question was, what did I want? : That was easy—I wanted to do my job; meaning find the person who'd stolen the Encyclopedia Magicka and, apparently, was using its spells to turn San Antonio's most peaceful vampires into raving killers; find out what other kind of demon was inside me; and be at peace with my family, and myself.
I was still working on the first one, and nowhere near accomplishing the second. However, I realized my question about Mom's side of the family was off-base. If Mom and Jen had been part-demon, Fang would have been able to read their minds. So that wasn't the answer.
As for the third, I guessed if Mom could try to mend our relationship, so could I.
"Are you okay, Val?” Jen asked tentatively.
No. I was frustrated and a bit confused. But I opened my eyes. “Just peachy. Let's change the subject."
"You're still going to come for Thanksgiving, aren't you?” she pressed.
Mom's expression was neutral once more, so I couldn't tell how she felt. Did I really want to go, knowing it wouldn't be anything but tense, knowing I'd feel like an outsider in my former home? “I'm not sure,” I hedged.
"Please come,” Mom said. “It'll be like old times. When you were a kid. We'll eat too much, Rick will watch football, and we'll play games until we fall asleep."
It sounded good, but I doubted it could ever be that way again. “Can I bring Fang?” If I was going to endure this Thanksgiving, I at least wanted to have my best friend there.
"Sure,” Jen said brightly. “I'll lock the cat up in my room while he's there."
"Okay, then, I'll come."
"Great,” Mom said. “Bring anyone you like. In fact, why don't you invite Dan?"
I looked toward Gwen for help, but she slid her gaze back to me, tossing the conversational ball into my court.
I sighed. “Dan's just my partner at work, Mom, nothing else. And we're not even that, anymore."
"Oh.” Mom looked surprised. “I thought you and he . . . “ She trailed off, apparently unsure how to finish that sentence.
I couldn't let her think I'd been dumped and was all hurt and everything. “No, I'm kinda seeing someone else.” Though “seeing” might be the wrong word when referring to Shade. I cast a glance at Gwen, silently hoping she'd back me on this.
"Really?” Jen asked eagerly. “Who?"
"His name's Shade. You haven't met him."
Mom smiled politely. “Then please bring him."
Sheesh, if they thought I was freaky, how would they react to Shade? “I don't know, Mom. He's a member of the Underground, too."
"I assumed that."
Jen bounced a little in her chair. “Promise you'll invite him, Val. I want to meet him."
Gwen nodded, like she was actually encouraging this madness.
Ooookay. It looked like I was the only one who saw the potential for a disastrous Shapiro family holiday. I took a deep breath. “Okay, I'll ask.” After all, attending Thanksgiving dinner with my family and Shade had to be easier than our most recent family get-together, where I'd infiltrated a vampire's lair and beheaded a rogue bloodsucker to save the life of everyone I loved, right? Right?
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Twelve
After lunch, Gwen and I gathered up all my shopping bags and said our goodbyes. Once Mom and Jen were out of sight, I muttered, “Good grief, can you really imagine Shade at the same table as my mother? She'll freak."
Gwen smiled. “I don't think you give her enough credit. She's trying."
Maybe. “But Shade and I aren't really dating.” I'd made that up to keep from sounding like a loser.
"You will be soon,” Gwen said with a grin. “Besides, with Shade and Fang both there, two friends will have your back."
"Good point.” And if I put it that way to Shade, I wouldn't have to deal with the whole they-think-you're-my-boyfriend thing, either. “I'll play it by ear."
Gwen and I wandered the mall again then swung back through the food court, but still didn't see Andrew. His suspicious behavior made me think more and more that he was the thief. If he was using the magick to poison vampires, I had to find him before he got more innocent bystanders killed. I kept thinking of Brittany.
When we got home, we found a whole pack of demons waiting for us—Mood and Josh, plus Micah and three demons I didn't know. Josh looked as calm as always. But . . . why did it take so many people to stay with Shade? One would do it.
MICAH CAME TO SEE YOU, Fang said. THE REST ARE HOPING FOR LUNCH—I CAN HEAR THEIR STOMACHS GRUMBLING. BUNCHA MOOCHES.
Princess looked indignant. I AM NOT A MOOCH.
OF COURSE NOT, SWEET THING, Fang assured her. I WAS TALKING ABOUT THE HUMAN DEMONS, NOT US CANINES.
I grinned at Gwen. “I think your reputation as a cook has preceded you. But you don't have to feed this hungry crowd, you know."
They all protested and Gwen laughed, dropping the rest of my shopping bags at the front door. “No problem. I can whip something up in a hurry."
Micah shook his head ruefully. “Now I understand why everyone was so eager to see Shade. Looks like I'll have to give you more money for groceries.” He smiled. “And I guess I'll need to taste your cooking, too."
Demons tended to crave the sensual pleasures, including good food. No surprise.
"You shouldn't have to pay for everything,” I protested. “Let them earn it. I'll put them to work."
The group seemed willing to help, so I asked them to decorate my bedroom, under Mood's direction, while Gwen cooked. Though Princess insisted she wasn't a mooch, she chose to stay in the kitchen, sneaking scraps.
I drew Micah and Shade into the living room, and Fang followed. Now that no one was touching him, Shade turned all swirly again. I felt a little shy about touching him after what had happened earlier in the bedroom, but people had been touching him all day, to keep him grounded. He wouldn't think I was coming on to him or anything, would he? But how would Lola react? Would she try to suck more out of him than he was willing to give?
Fang practically rolled his eyes. JUST DO IT ALREADY.
Feeling my cheeks warm, I tentatively laid my hand on top of Shade's. Lola was a little interested, but she was still sated, so she didn't try to attack him or anything. Relieved, I asked, “How are you doing? Feeling better?"
"Yes, much better. But . . . it's probably a good idea for you to keep touching me. Just in case."
I looked away. “Uh, are you still blitzing in and out?"
"I don't know. People won't stop touching me long enough to find out."
"Well, let's try it.” I took my hand away and we watched him for a few moments. So far, so good.
Micah glanced at me. “Even if he is better, we need to keep using him as an excuse to invite demons here to help take care of him, until we've questioned everyone. Your roommate's reputation as a chef will help that along. Our kind can't resist great food."