by Amanda Byrd
“It’s not funny, you shits! Okay, yes it is,” and she joined in the laughter.
“Well, you won, obviously, but were there any injuries? Are the gargoyles okay?” a note of concern edging Shiloh’s questions.
“We’re all fine. The boys are great. They’re taking a well-deserved, hard-earned rest. And my blood-covered ass needs a damn shower stat. So that’s where I’m headed. No more questions until the morning, I’m whooped and want sleep.”
“How about a nice cup of Earl Grey before bed? Shiloh mentioned she wanted tea about fifteen minutes ago but never got around to making it. You shower and I’ll make you both a cup. What do you say?”
“That sounds fantastic is what I say. And I take back not talking about tonight until tomorrow. I can tell you all about how I’m drenched in blood, now own a pure silver sword, and everything else over tea.”
Shiloh could not hide her look of astonishment, knowing what silver did to werewolves, asking, “You now own a what?”
Miranda laughed and turned around hearing a long hot shower calling her name, walking away still giggling over Shiloh’s reaction to the sword. She knew Shiloh would now be on the hunt for the sword in the house, which made her laugh a little harder and cause a slight stabbing pain in her side. Where did that come from? Was I hit by something? As she reached the bedroom she ripped the bag dress off to see what might be on her skin causing this. She looked down to see burnt skin, all bubbly and brown and black and red. Vampy! You can fix this, right? She did not get an answer but that did not worry her. She knew the vampire had not left her and would not. At least not willingly. She turned the handle-type knob of the shower and it began pummeling the tile floor with water and steaming the room. Miranda inhaled the steam as much as she could without the stabbing pain in her side activating, helping to open her smoke-filled lungs. I really should go to the hospital after breathing all the smoke in but they’ll ask questions and I really don’t need that. Two people asking questions who actually do need to know the answers is enough. No more. Miranda, stop thinking and get in the shower already. It’ll help you relax. Oh, now you two want to talk. I see how it is. Thanks, by the way. That fight was definitely too easy but why? What made her so slow? Why was she so easy to defeat? Well, that’s an easy answer. The older a werewolf gets, just like humans, the slower they become. Clearly, her brain grew slower with age, too. But we also think she may have been ill. Werewolves get sick? Yes, and it’s never a good thing. It’s entirely possible she was dying and chose to fight you when she did because she knew she had little time left. Oh. Well then. Okay, enough from you two, I’m taking my relaxing shower now.
Stepping in, she barely noticed how hot the water was—enough to give a normal human first or second-degree burns, but not her. Even her burned skin from Interment healed under the running water. She tilted her head back under the shower head and let the water fall down her hair, face, and body, feeling the cleansing and steam further opening her airways. At one point, she virtually dropped to her knees from how relaxed she had become. Can I really make it downstairs for tea and talking? I feel like I need to crawl out of the shower just to dry off; I don’t even have the energy to partially transform and shake dry. I can. I promised I would.
She turned the shower off and grabbed towels, one for her hair, the other for her body. She moved slowly; she was sore and exhausted and she found it odd. I shouldn’t be this exhausted from such a tiny fight. Maybe the fight was small, but you flew again, too, and flying kicks your ass, as you put it. Forgot about that. Thanks for the reminder. When she finished drying, she put on a robe and a pair of slippers and arrived in the kitchen just in time to hear the tea kettle screaming the song of its people. Shiloh rushed over to wrap her in a bear hug that Miranda had to pull herself from sooner than she wanted because she was so sore.
“Sorry, Shiloh, I’m still a little sore. Shit, I even had a burn but the vampirism healed it in the shower. It was pretty gnarly. I should have taken a picture for you. Oh well, there’s always next time.”
“Next time? I thought you said she was dead.”
“She is. But I told you before I didn’t think this would be my last fight. Besides, we all know I’m accident prone, so there will always be gnarly shit for you to see, provided you’re basically right there when it happens or I take a picture before it heals.”
Miranda walked over to Teddy, offering to help any way he would let her, but he shooed her away so she motioned to Shiloh to join her on the couch. As soon as they sat down, Teddy came over with their tea.
“You’re not having any?” a confused Miranda asked.
“I am, just not Earl Grey. I’ve got myself covered. Don’t start the battle story until I get back, k?”
Miranda picked up her mug and sniffed the tea. This was one of her favorite smells, only now it was too strong with her magnified sense of smell. She did not care; it was still a wonderful smell. She sipped its deliciousness and impatiently waited for Teddy to come back so she could share the demise of Elisonde and Interment, tapping her slippers on the floor. Shiloh, too, was growing impatient, but it only took Teddy thirty seconds to come back. The women were mentally and emotionally drained and thought they would not be awake much longer and every second counted.
When Teddy sat down, Miranda launched into the unabridged version of the battle, from the second she walked out of the house up to her undressing in the garage to change into a bag dress. There were gasps and grimaces, looks of shock and horror, but in the end, everyone was glad Miranda, King, and Emperor had all returned home not terribly injured and alive. They finished their tea in silence, Miranda and Shiloh both almost dropping theirs from their hands as they had started to nod off but caught themselves just in time, acting as though they had not started to fall asleep. As soon as everyone finished their tea, they parted ways for the night.
Shiloh laid down and fell right to sleep, as did Miranda, towel still in her hair. Teddy lovingly watched over her and laughed then climbed into bed with her, her soft snores lulling him to sleep.
Twenty-Five
Thanksgiving Day was finally here and it was nice to have a house full of loud, obnoxious, and hyper children and adults, even if they would be gone in a few days. Miranda loved having Shiloh, Brutus, and the kids here, regardless that the cats hated Miranda for all the noise. It was a welcome change from the silence that filled the big house most of the time. Shiloh had really gotten the hang of being her receptionist and was enjoying it and Miranda did not think her practice could run any smoother.
The kitchen was bustling with three cooking adults, children running in and out, and the football game on in the living room. Miranda had the two oldest, teenage boys she called Intelligent and Tall One, set the formal dining room table as Brutus and Teddy got the booster seats and high chair for the babies ready. Miranda and Shiloh were putting the finishing touches on dinner when they heard one of the teenagers squeal so loud it echoed through the house and over the football game. Adults and children alike converged on the office, where the scream had originated. Miranda and Shiloh exchanged “oh shit” looks, Brutus and Teddy turned their heads toward Miranda to see what she would say.
“I take it you like the cool new sword Aunt Miranda has?”
“Oh my God YES! Can I play with it? Please, oh please?” Intelligent begged.
“No. It’s too heavy even for me to lift,” Miranda lied, “that’s why it’s on the wall. Maybe one day I’ll tell you where I got it.”
Shiloh simultaneously shot Miranda a look of pure death and fought back a giggle and her eyes watered for that. Teddy smiled, too, also fighting back a giggle. Brutus, knowing nothing of the events that earned Miranda this sword, was about to offer to take it off the wall but suffered a hellish elbow blow from Shiloh causing a cut-off intake of breath and he grabbed his side.
“Come on, let’s all go to the table. Intelligent and Tall One, you
guys come with your mom and me and we’ll grab the food to take to the table so we can eat.”
Shiloh led the train to the kitchen while Teddy and Brutus got the littler kids seated and settled at the table, one of them throwing silverware at another, the girl calling them stupid. Teddy thought to himself how nice it was to not have little ones. In the kitchen, Miranda was thinking the same, as the boys were fighting over who got to carry what. Teenagers. What can you do? Shiloh tried to stop them from fighting, as futile as it was. Then she used her mom voice and they stopped, Tall One half-grumbling, half-whining. Miranda handed each boy a serving plate and made sure they used both hands to carry them to the dining room. Back in the kitchen, Shiloh was getting everything together that she and Miranda would carry to the table.
“Shiloh, those two- Jesus! How the hell do you do it?”
“Now you know why I’ve been enjoying my time without kids,” and she laughed and Miranda joined her.
“At least you get to send them home in two days not to hear them bicker like an old married couple for another month,” the two women laughing again.
“Yeah, but we have work to do while they’re gone anyway. Or did you forget you’re calling those scientists you know next week?”
“Yeah, because I could possibly forget about the cure that will be found or formulated to get these two shitheads out of me.”
We are NOT shitheads! Would you please shut up? I’ve had enough of you guys for now and would love for you to remain silent, unless some kind of danger comes calling, for the rest of the time Shiloh’s family is here. Got it? Yes, Miranda.
The women took the rest of the food to, and their seats at, the table. They took turns going around the table, everyone saying what they were thankful for. Teddy offered for Brutus to cut the turkey but he declined, saying something about it being his home. The kids were served first, then the adults. This was truly what a family gathering felt like. Lots of good food, good friends who were more like family, wine and beer—a fine holiday gathering indeed. Miranda was surprised at how much the kids ate and thought about what a good thing it was they made so much. Of course, there would still be leftovers, which was perfect, because, after today, neither Miranda, Teddy, nor Shiloh would want to cook for a week.
After dinner, Brutus took the kids to wash up and go to bed. Teddy, Miranda, and Shiloh cleared the table and got the first load of dishes into the dishwasher and leftovers into the fridge. Miranda and Shiloh sat and relaxed over another glass of wine while Teddy flipped to some special football channel to relive the highlights of the day’s game that Miranda’s favorite team had won on home turf, where they played on Thanksgiving Day every year. It had been a great day and even better night; one no one would forget for a while, at least not the adults.
“So what are we doing with the kids tomorrow?” Miranda asked, taking another sip of wine.
“Hah! They’ll sleep all day. That’s what they do the day after Thanksgiving unless I go crazy and go shopping which you know I’d much rather do online anyway.”
Miranda held up her glass, “Cheers to that!” and they clinked glasses.
Looking into the living room, Miranda said, “Hey Ted, let’s do the second load tomorrow. I’m beat. We should all go to bed.”
Everyone agreed hugged and went to their rooms.
弇 弇 弇
The following week, Miranda started making calls to the many scientists she had gotten to know over the years, letting them know the full rundown of what she needed; she was a werepire in need of a cure that would not kill her human form and leave herself fully intact, mind and body. They all took on the challenge happily. “Anything for my sweet Dr. van Wolfe” they had all said. She truly was adored and admired and respected. They all agreed to keep her secret, too, because they feared what would happen to them if they let slip her condition, even to a fly on the wall.
Miranda was with a patient one day when Shiloh answered a concerning phone call. She waited for Miranda’s patient to exit the office fully before going into Miranda’s office to tell her about the curious call from the strange doctor.
“So, um, I just took a really weird phone call,” Shiloh started, sounding a little freaked out.
“Okay, about? From? Come on, spill. Wait, are there any patients waiting?”
“No.”
“Okay, then spit it out.”
“A Doctor Fleming-Heilsong called saying he received a call from a colleague he wouldn’t name but says he can help you. He also said he would stop by soon to meet in person because he wants to ‘examine’ you,” she sounded creeped out and unsure at the same time.
“Well then, I can’t wait to meet him.”
About the Author
Amanda has always had a deep love of science fiction and fantasy, whether it was horror or mythical creations. She is a full time psychology major and administrative professional. She started with non-fiction but enjoys writing fiction more, as she has an extremely active imagination and enjoys creating with words. She also has a tendency of writing while doing homework. Amanda currently resides in Tampa, Florida with her husband and two cats.