Fangs and Frenemies

by Cherry Andrews

  Jenna finally looked up—and shrieked. “Oh my God, it’s . . . that weird girl from my chemistry class. Maxine de Klaw!”

  I threw up my hands in disgust. “Seriously, you remember her and not me?”

  Poof. Speaking turned me visible.

  “Hazel?” Britt’s eyes widened.

  “What are you two losers doing here?” Jenna tittered. “Hey, wait.” Suddenly she looked like a kid whose balloon got popped. “What happened to that bobcat? It was going to be my nice new coat.”

  “Yeah, well, not everyone deserves a coat.” Max turned to Britt. “You know what to do, vampire.”

  “Gladly. Jenna, give Max here your coat. And then go away, and forget all this.”

  Within thirty seconds of Britt’s “suggestion,” Max was clad in a black satin peacoat tied with a thick tulle ribbon belt. It was the fanciest thing I’d ever seen her wear, and with her sculpted bare legs and tumbling red hair she looked like a goddess. Or would have, if she didn’t have that impish Max grin.

  Wearing just her little black dress and a blissed-out expression, Jenna minced away. Shivering in the general direction of the bars.

  “Uh, is she gonna be ok?” I asked.

  “Sure.” Britt shrugged. “Besides, I sealed the wound. So even if she keels over, no one’s going to connect it to me.”

  “Wow, spoken like a true friend.”

  “What do you want from me, Hazel?” Britt snapped. “I outgrew Jenna when I got turned. I outgrew a lot of things. But a girl still needs to eat.”

  “Just ignore Hazel when she does that pinched-face look. She can’t see past her human privilege sometimes.” Max sounded eager to have someone to criticize me with. Even her former sworn enemy. “Hey, at least you don’t have to kill to eat. In that sense, you’re more evolved than I am when I shift.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet of you to say Maxy.” Britt smiled at the woman who’d once sprayed bobcat urine in her locker. “But I actually think you’re the one who’s most evolved, in that you’re so adaptable and deeply connected to nature.”

  “Ok, what is going on here?” I was now officially creeped out by the love fest between the two of them. “How do we know you’re not using compulsion right now, to make Max like you?”

  “Oh, I still don’t like Britt,” Max said, surprising me. “Can’t stand her.”

  “Samesies,” Britt said with a smile, and they high-fived.

  “But we’re both mature enough that we can work together, anyway. Now that I can see my suspicions about her were just, well, animal instinct.”

  “Well said.”

  “Thanks, Brittany.” Max turned back to me. “Also, her bloodsucker head games don’t work on shifters.”

  “So true.” Britt looked wistful about that. “If Max and I ever had a serious disagreement, it would be claws versus fangs. And I honestly don’t know who’d win that fight.”

  “I’d win,” Max said calmly. “Your strength surprised me tonight. But I’ve been at this longer than you, and I have allies.”

  “Allies?” That was news to me.

  “All over the woods,” Max said, pointing vaguely to the north where Corvid Woods Park was located. Whatever, I’d ask for details later. When Britt wasn’t listening.

  “So . . . ladies . . . ?” Britt grabbed my hand and Max’s. Her skin was ice cold, as one might expect from a vampire. Or a human, on this cold November evening. “Margaritas?”

  “Wait, fire doesn’t kill you, does it?”

  I was partly asking to be polite. Since the three of us were sitting at an outdoor table at Dark Blue, a chichi bar that faced the beach and featured firepit tables. But I was also feeling at a loss.

  Britt was the first vampire I’d ever met, and Gran, it turned out, had really not prepared me for the occasion. The wisdom she’d passed on quickly was revealed as superstition that made both Britt and Max chuckle into their giant margarita glasses.

  I was getting sick of that sound.

  And Britt evidently, was getting tired of my questions. “No, sweetie. Fire doesn’t kill me. Crosses don’t bother me. Even sunlight won’t seriously hurt me, not till I’m over a hundred. It just gives me a migraine.”

  “And garlic—?”

  “Is delicious. So’s this.” She held up her pink margarita.

  “Sorry, one more thing. Is that going to make you drunk?” I asked, trying not to stare. “Or . . . do you have to puke it up or something?”

  She sighed like she was tired of humoring me. “Blood’s the only thing that nourishes me. But I can eat regular food, too. I don’t get drunk because alcohol magically moves out of my system too fast. But I get a nice buzz.”

  Splendid. In other words, her life was even more perfect now than in high school.

  “Hazel. Google ‘vampires’ sometime, and stop wasting everyone’s time with your basic questions.” Max was back in control, and back in her own jeans and sweatshirt, having retrieved them from behind the boathouse. “Let’s get on with business. Britt, catch us up on how you came to be a suspect. So I can officially scratch you off my list.”

  “Ugh, I was having one of those days.” Britt sighed. “It was Sunday, the day after Ashlee’s wedding. I was super hungry, even though I’d just fed on Jenna at the wedding. For some reason, she got extra high from it—so high she was acting crazy. Paranoid.”

  I sat up. “Yes, she was. I remember.”

  “So I didn’t take much from her.”

  Max shredded her napkin, looking thoughtful. “I wonder why she had a bad reaction to your bite that time, but not tonight?”

  “It happens occasionally.” Britt shrugged helplessly. “If my sire wasn’t such a deadbeat I’d ask him. Anyhow, I was still hungry but I decided not to snack on Jenna again for a while. So, I called up Ash. Asked her to come to my hotel room . . . well, the same thing happens with her. Gets totally wasted after one bite. Worse, she wanders off and jumps into her chauffeur’s car, in that paranoid state. They took her to the hospital thinking she’d been poisoned.”

  “Oh man, that’s scary,” Max said, and I knew she was empathizing with Britt, not Ashlee. She might not like her, but the two of them were definitely bonding, over the challenges of being supernatural creatures. As a human with just a little magic running through me, how could I not feel left out?

  “Took her seven hours to ‘recover,’” Britt said, finishing her story. “Well, I guess she’d told staff members who she was going to visit and even though her memory wiped like it’s supposed to, the hospital sent their full notes to Gantry’s office when she disappeared. You can see where it doesn’t look great for me.”

  “Ok, I’m satisfied with that explanation.” Max licked the salt off her glass’s rim and turned to me as if Britt wasn’t even there. “I know she’s everything we hate, but she clearly had nothing to do with Ashlee’s disappearance. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to consider the possibility that it might have been your oh-so-perfect boyfriend.”

  “Excuse me?” I nearly jumped out of my seat. “My boyfriend? How about your jailbird brother? Because I have news for you. He very definitely borrowed your car to go meet Ashlee for some nefarious reason—at her own wedding!”

  “What?” Max looked jarred. “If that’s true, it shouldn’t be news to me. Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

  Britt twirled her hair. “Wow, I see now why it was so important to the two of you to suspect me.”

  We both whipped our heads around.

  “You needed me to be the bad guy, because you secretly suspect her boyfriend, and you secretly suspect her brother.”

  “I don’t like secrets.” Max stood, still looking unsettled, and dropped a few bills on the table. “I’m going to go clear the air with Kade. If he has something to confess I’d rather he confess it to me first.”

  “Fine, I’ll go with you,” I said. I had an ulterior motive, as usual these days. I’d read that “Dreamland Visitor” spell carefully the other night, a
nd it required a hair or personal effect from the subject.

  “We’ll all go,” Britt said, pushing in her chair. “Team field trip!”

  “Sure you want to come, Hazel?” Max looked pained. “Kade’s at work . . . I know you don’t like that place much.”

  I shook my head. “He can’t still be there, it’s almost 10 PM.” No café would stay open that late.

  Max’s pained look deepened. “They’re open to midnight as of this week. They’re working towards being a twenty-four-hour coffee shop. I thought you knew.”

  “No,” I moaned softly. That was it. The bakery was as good as dead.

  The smell outside Java Kitty was getting worse. That, or my magical senses were growing more powerful. I stood outside by the front door, holding my nose. Taking deep breaths through my mouth.

  Britt and Max looked at each other as if I were nuts.

  Britt’s spoke up. “What’s your damage now, Hazel?”

  “Grey magic,” I explained, feeling a bit smug. “You two wouldn’t know it if it bit you in the butt, only witches can sense it.”

  “And this matters why?”

  “Because it’s toxic, and it’s taking over towns all over America. Grey magic witches become corporate consultants. They help companies with their bottom line . . . but the community never seems to be better off.”

  “Interesting.” Max frowned. “How’s it work?”

  “If I knew the secret sauce I’d be a Grey Witch myself.” I shuddered. “I’d probably have to wear a pantsuit.”

  Britt frowned. “But this place isn’t corporate, it’s an indie shop. The owner, Elton is passionate about ‘community’ . . . he’s actually a real drag to listen to, and usually ends up so emotional he has to pull out a handkerchief. In fact, I’ll stand out here if y’all don’t mind.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” I said and forced myself to walk inside.

  It wasn’t full, but it wasn’t empty. Kade was the only barista on duty, but as far as I could tell the machines sort of made the coffee on their own . . . was that Grey magic, too?

  Max entered right behind me and marched toward Kade but was forced to get in line behind a woman who was waiting to order coffee.

  Breathing through my mouth was no longer cutting it. That smell was getting through anyway, burning my throat.

  “Can I help you find the perfect vibe for your wind down?” asked a soft male voice. He was a lanky young dude, very young, almost a teenager. With huge blue eyes and hair that looked permanently hardened from gel. “Now are you a fireside girl, a velvet couch girl, or a no-nonsense counter girl?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks, I don’t need help. I was just looking for someone . . . and I found him, so. I’m good.”

  “You just described the human condition.” Tears filled the man’s eyes. “Aren’t we all just searching, for each other? Thank you. That was beautiful. I’m Elton, by the way.”

  “I figured. I mean, I’m Hazel.” At the sound of a familiar bell-like laugh, I turned to see a striking young woman with white statement glasses, dyed black hair and an undercut. She was seated at a table with two young guys, both of whom were hanging on her every word. “Excuse me,” I told Elton, and marched over to confront my little sister Cindra.

  “Cin? Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?”

  At the sight of me, her mouth turned into an O of surprise. Which she then covered with her one of her perfect, model hands. “This is awkward . . . I just flew in for a few days. I don’t have time to see everyone, so . . . ”

  “But you have time to see them?” Britt was suddenly at my side, gesturing to Cindra’s two male companions. Was that a thing nowadays, going on a date with two boys at once? My sister was always on the cutting edge. “Who even are these guys?” Britt demanded.

  Cindra looked down, totally cowed by Britt’s star power and now also vampire power. “I don’t know,” she stammered. “Just . . . some guys?”

  The two looked a bit anxious to hear that. Couldn’t blame them.

  “I’m so gonna kill Bea,” Cindra said under her breath. “She promised me this was the one place in town I wouldn’t accidentally run into Hazel!”

  So Beatrix and Cindra were hanging out together and I was the odd sister out? Well, that’s pretty much what I figured was going on. Still, it stung to have it confirmed.

  Luckily, Max was returning from the coffee line clutching a white plate with a tiny, shriveled-looking brownie on it. From the spring in her step, I figured whatever Kade told her had been reassuring and was glad.

  “Hey, if it isn’t Hazel’s baby sister looking all grown up.” Max’s tone was fond and sincere, but I cringed, knowing Cindra would take it as a diss. “Did I just hear you’ve been putting on a British accent, Cindy? Wow, you have so many talents!”

  “Not putting it on.” Cindra sounded super defensive (and American) suddenly. “Change happens organically when you immerse yourself in a vibrant culture. Not that you bumpkins would understand.”

  Max looked surprised, then she laughed. Britt and I joined her, laughing till we snorted. Cindra and her boys turned away in disgust.

  “So Kade came clean,” Max said softly, when the three of us were sitting side by side on the fireside couch. “He admitted that he and Ashlee did have some real conversations. Apparently, it started as her joking around with the barista and grew into a bit of a flirtation between them. He didn’t want to tell me because, well, she was such a jerk to me in high school.”

  “Typical Ashlee to lead your brother on while marrying a millionaire,” I said.

  “Tell me about it.” She rolled her eyes. “But she confided in him that she was having second thoughts about Drew and was already planning her exit.”

  “Exit?” Britt’s voice was sharp. “I’m trapped in his town, begging sketchy neighbors to feed my cat, all because Ash disappeared on purpose?”

  I blinked. “You mean she’s pulled a Gone Girl?”

  “Not quite that . . . organized,” Max said. “More like she planned to fade out on the guy. Slip quietly away and start a new life . . . she’ll resurface somewhere no doubt.”

  “At which point I can go back to Portland, back to my real life,” Britt said. “Well, that’s the best news ever.”

  “There’s something you and I can agree on.” With the earnest preciseness of an eight year old, Max split the dry-looking fudge brownie in three and we each stuffed a piece into our mouths.

  “Oooh, now that’s one mediocre dessert.” Britt wrinkled her nose.

  “Yeah, it’s garbage,” Max agreed and turned to me. “I’ve definitely been spoiled by Sage’s Bakery.”

  “That’s ok, it eats,” I said, feeling I could be generous in this moment, standing between my two friends.

  It was a nice moment, a hopeful moment. But we were still inside Java Kitty Café. The smell was catching up to me, getting too powerful to withstand.

  Gagging a little, I ran out the back door.

  “Hazel! Honey are you ok?” Britt with her supernatural speed was on my heels, with Max right behind her. We were standing by the parking lot, next to the dumpster.

  “Whoa,” Max said and we all three stared at the top of the dumpster.

  At the pair of long, shapely legs that were hanging out from it. The feet were wearing sparkly champagne-colored hose and putty-colored pumps, the heels so high they made the foot look J-shaped. From the stillness and splayed angle you could tell the person was not alive. Not in the slightest.

  That, and the fact that their head would be covered in garbage.

  “Looks like Ashlee just resurfaced,” Max declared.

  “Aw, Ash, no.” Britt shook her head. “What an undignified exit. You deserved better. Well, no, not really. But still. This is just humiliating.”

  I was still in shock. “Are you two sure it’s Ashlee?”

  “Dude, I can see her butterfly ankle tattoo.” Britt pulled down her sock. “See? I have the firefly that matches i
t. Jenna miscommunicated with the tattoo artist and ended up with an earwig.” She turned to Max. “Sorry, Maxy, I just realized this looks pretty damning for Kade, her body being at his place of work.”

  “It does look like my brother’s being framed, yes,” Max said pointedly. “Not to mention we’re all going to look suspicious for discovering the body.”

  “Good point. Ooh, are you suggesting we tamper with the evidence?” Britt was sounding way too intrigued by that idea.

  “For goodness sake.” I’d had enough. “Am I the only sane, law-abiding citizen in this group?” Before I could get pushback from the shifter or the vampire, I—Goody Two-shoes—whipped out my phone and called the police.

  Chapter 11

  I checked my lipstick in Trixie’s dusty mirror, then hopped out and locked her, more out of politeness than any real fear that someone in The Drunken Barrel’s parking lot would steal her.

  “Get that Me-Time, girl!” she called out to me as her engine cooled. “You look amazing, but not in a try-hard way.”

  “Thanks, Trixie.”

  Feeling a bit guilty for preferring the sleek, phony-sounding version of her, I fluffed my hair one last time and headed inside to meet The Help.

  The last twenty-four hours had been intense, and then some.

  When the police arrived on the scene outside Java Kitty, they didn’t just wrap up Ashlee’s body and bag up forensic evidence. They blocked off the building, turned it into a temporary police station, and spent hours individually questioning every single person inside, including us, Kade, Elton, and Cindra, and her two dates.

  Predictably, a café full of people was one too many to keep a secret. Someone must have snuck out a tweet, because within a half hour of my calling the cops, reporters from both small and major news outlets had swarmed the place. Ignoring Elton’s heartfelt entreaties to “respect a community space,” the pack of them began rolling film and shoving microphones in people’s faces. I couldn’t blame them, really. Dead, rich blonde found “trashed” in an idyllic beachside town? It was all too easy to see it—and us—as the juicy headline of tomorrow’s papers.