She swerved back to her lane, almost hitting the car beside us. Damon honked behind us, not the people she’d almost hit. I turned to get a glimpse of his face.
“God, Maggie. Listen to yourself.”
“It’s true. Damon has fangs.”
“I knew it was something like that. You have to go see a doctor as soon as we get back. Stop this now before it gets so bad something terrible happens.”
“Gram was one, too.”
She whipped her head around, giving me a threatening glance. But she caught herself before she lashed out. She licked her lips and swallowed. “You think because your mother’s sick that it must have come from Grammy?”
“I think Mama’s one, too.”
I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to shout it in her face and make her hear me. “You’re only human.”
“Please, Maggie, try to listen to what you’re saying. I can barely believe you’re serious. This has taken me so off-guard. You were always the most reasonable person I knew. That’s why I know what I’m hearing is Damon’s influence.”
“It’s the truth.”
“And you need to get to a doctor and have those cuts looked at. They might get infected. You’d better have some tests run--”
“We can’t become infected by human germs.” I’d just made that up, but it made me smile.
“He might be carrying something,” she said seriously. “And I saw you….”
She shuddered visibly and couldn’t finish her sentence. I had enough wounds on me to recognize her sore spot. So I pushed it.
“Drinking his blood.”
“Oh, god,” she whispered, turning her head away.
“It’s better than wine.”
“Maggie!” She turned her head to glare at me. “Just stop it! You’re scaring me. I really can’t deal with this right now. I’ve got everything I own in this car and barely enough gas money to get home. Stop acting like a child. Grow up.”
I stared at her, unable to believe she’d said that. I hated her, because I feared she might be right. Maybe I was imagining all these things, because Damon believed them so absolutely. Maybe I was acting like a stubborn brat. I’d missed a week of work without even calling Chester and speaking to him directly, like an adult. That was very unlike me.
We rode in silence. Aunt Cynthia drove resting her elbow on the doorframe, rubbing her forehead. I sat staring out my window.
I missed Damon. I couldn’t stand to be apart from him for half an hour. I was obsessed with him and I knew, from a mental health perspective, that obsessions weren’t a good sign.
But where was the difference between obsession and being in love? I didn’t know. I only knew that I had to be with him.
I turned in the seat and waved to him through the back window. He saw and pointed at me as if I were the only one in the world.
What was I thinking? We were vampires. We didn’t have to live by silly human rules.
My husband had glowing eyes and fangs.
My life really was perfect. Aunt Cynthia just didn’t know what she was talking about.
***
It was so good to be home. The first thing I did, once we had Mama inside, was to go land back on my bed and just lie there, reveling in the familiarity. The wonderful, good ‘ol feelings of home.
Damon followed and stood looking down at me. After a few minutes he asked, “Are you done?”
“With what?”
“We need to start moving your stuff in the other room, before she claims it.”
“What’s wrong with my room?”
He looked around, grimacing. “It’s too small. It’s suffocating. It’s like a closet.”
It was small, but cozy, I thought. “I love this room. It’s my own private place.”
He cracked his neck then spoke in a tense voice. “Come be in my room. Move in with me.”
Finally, I understood. This was a macho thing. He wanted me to give up my place to come live in his. He didn’t want to sleep in a girly bed with frilly bed-ruffles and old stuffed animals. He wanted the biggest room in the house.
I wasn’t a particular type of person. “Well, go talk to her and see what she says. Just remember, this is her house and if we get kicked out, Mama gets kicked out, too. We’ll have to take her wherever we go.”
He gave me a raised-eyebrows look and strode from the room. I turned onto my stomach and let my arms and head dangle over the side. I needed to call Bella and Chester to tell them I’d be in for work in the morning. If I still had a job. But I didn’t feel like moving.
I had changed since Damon came along. Cynthia was right about that. He’d made me lazy, and a liar, and completely blasé about things I used to consider vital.
The phone rang and I guessed it was Chester or Bella, calling to check on me. They’d probably been calling all day, worried.
In a minute, Cynthia came to the door to confirm my suspicions. Chester was on the phone. “Tell him I’ll be in tomorrow,” I said without lifting my head.
She went away and a few minutes later Damon came in and sat on my rump, and rubbed my back. “We’ve gotta get your stuff out of here.”
“You talked her into it?”
“Yep.”
“How?”
“I told her I’d jump on her in the middle of the night and drink her blood if she didn’t.”
I tried to turn, but he held my shoulder down and kept kneading the knotted muscles. “You did not. Did you?”
“I told her we’d pay rent for it.”
I tried to turn again and this time he let me. “An offer she couldn’t refuse, huh? I told her you were a good person.”
He settled on his side against me, messaging my front. He moved his hand beneath my shirt and found my breast. “Not too good.”
“No, not too good.”
“Real.”
“Really real,” I agreed.
***
The next morning, I spent an extra few minutes in my car before going into the drugstore.
I was nervous and sick to my stomach. Not only would I have to explain my abused body, I had to tell them I’d gotten married. To the weird guy who’d sat out on their porch for a week. To a guy whose name sounded like demon. To a guy I’d known only two weeks.
When I ran the numbers through my head, it seemed impossible. How could fourteen days seem like a year? They wouldn’t understand.
They would think I’d made a stupid mistake. I couldn’t stand to see disapproval in their eyes.
I also had Damon pestering me to lie to them about what we’d discovered of our heritage, to steal their house key and make a copy for him, and to tell them I’d have to quit at the end of the week. It had taken me ten minutes to get his hands off me so I could leave the house.
I didn’t want to do any of those things. I wanted to talk to Chester and find out if Damon and I really were alien vampires, or if we were just crazy. And I wasn’t about to steal their house key. I wasn’t sure about quitting.
Bella was working up front when I came in. She looked at me twice before she realized who I was. Had I been so insignificant she hadn’t even missed me? Or had I changed so much I didn’t look like myself anymore?
“Well, there you are,” she said, barely smiling. “We got your message but it would have been nice to talk to you in person. You look worn-out. Driving always does that.”
I stored my purse under the counter and looked around. It seemed like I’d been gone for months, everything looked strange, and smelled funny. “We had some problems with Mama,” I told her. “How’s everything here?”
“Oh, we’re just fine. Is that what happened?” she said, frowning at my bandages. “My heavens, you’re covered. I thought maybe we’d moved past all this with her new medicines.”
I’d been planning to tell them the story about falling into a ravine, but this was better. This they would believe. “She got her hands on an ice pick. We like to never stopped her.”
She came to give me a care
ful hug of sympathy. “Not much of a vacation, huh?”
“We had a pretty good time, actually.” I had to tell her, the sooner the better. I was just about to show her my ring when Chester stepped out of his office.
“Well, there she is!” he boomed, grinning at me. “We thought you’d decided to go live with the city folk.” He came to give me a warm hug. “We’re just glad to have our girl back.” When I gasped in pain from the hug, he stepped back to look at me. “What happened, you fall out of the car on the way home, kiddo?”
“Her mama,” Bella whispered.
“Oh.” He nodded seriously. “Is she all right? And what about you?”
“She’s fine.” I could feel the courage building in me. I stuck out my hand. “Look.”
They both examined my ring. “Oh, isn’t that nice,” Bella said. Chester looked at me and frowned.
I tried to smile, but couldn’t. My mouth went dry. “I got married.”
“What’s that?” Bella asked.
Chester brought his hand down on the counter with a slapping sound that made me jump. “What do you mean you got married?” he demanded. “Who to?”
“She’s just joking,” Bella said and gave me a feather-light slap on the arm.
“I’m really not. Damon and I got married.”
Bella gasped. “You mean the… that… Elliot’s grandson? Oh, lord. But you barely know him, honey.” She sounded like she might start crying. Instead, she stared at me with wide, horrified eyes.
Chester continued to glare at me, frowning silently.
“We just knew,” I answered meekly. I was afraid one of them might slap me. I wasn’t sure why since no one aside from Mama had ever slapped me. “We got excited.”
“Why don’t you come in my office,” Chester said and turned away.
I followed him, taking each step as if it led to the electric chair. Bella gave me an encouraging pat on the back.
“My god… mistake,” I heard her say as I turned into the office.
“Sit down there,” Chester said, taking his squeaking chair behind the desk. “And tell me what it is you think you’re doing.”
I sat, and tried to find my composure. And tried to remind myself that I hadn’t done anything wrong. Damon and I were meant to be together. We were deeply in love. “What d’ya mean?”
“Take that bandage off your neck there,” he said, pointing.
“Why?”
“I want to see what’s under there.”
“Why?”
He sat back and crossed his arms, watching me and rocking in his chair. “You know we think of you like our own. You were always special.”
I looked down at my pretty ring. “I know.”
“And we mighta like to known.”
“We just did it, we didn’t tell anybody. I knew you’d be mad.”
His chair squeaked loudly and I could sense him leaning over his desk. “I’m not mad, kiddo, I’m concerned. Answer me this, did he tell you he was a vampire?”
My head shot up. “What?”
“Go close that door.”
I hurried to close the door then sat down, sliding my chair up close to the desk. And waited….
“We woke up Sunday before last to find somebody had broken into our house,” he said, “and left a scary little message on our living room wall. Want to hear what it said?”
I nodded, not really following his direction.
“It said, The Vampire Is Here, written in red paint. And I’ve got a pretty good idea who did it. I talked to Mike Spencer and he told me who bought red paint last.”
Mike Spencer at the lumberyard? “You think Damon did it?” I asked with surprise. I was surprised because I’d been waiting for Chester to tell me he was a vampire, too.
“I had to send Troy out to repaint the whole dang living room.”
“Damon didn’t do it.”
“Elverna Jarvis said she saw him leaving out her back door one day. She couldn’t find anything missing so she didn’t make a fuss. She’d seen him over at your place and thought maybe he’d gone in the wrong house.”
I sat back and crossed my arms and legs. “Why were you talking to Mrs. Jarvis about it?” Hmm? Because you’re both vampires?
“Because she’s an old friend,” he answered, frowning at my sudden slyness. “She came in here and we were talking.”
“Well, it couldn’t have been Damon, we were in Knoxville Sunday. And anyway, he wouldn’t do something like that.”
He wouldn’t have, I was certain. He might have broken into their house, I could easily believe that, but he didn’t want Chester to suspect we knew about his true identity.
Maybe it hadn’t really happened, and Chester was testing me. I wanted to ask him directly, but I’d promised Damon.
“Let me see what’s under that bandage,” Chester said again.
I suddenly felt very belligerent and knew I should get out of the office. But I felt belligerent, so I stayed.
“Which one? You’ll have to be more specific.”
“You pick. Just humor me.”
“Fine.” I chose the largest bandage on my neck, where Damon had opened the wound several times. The skin around it was black with bruises. I gave him a good long look then flattened the bandage and sat back.
When I checked his reaction, Chester sat with his head down, his hands clasped tightly on the desk. When he finally looked up his eyes were closed and his face was flushed. He slowly lifted his eyelids and looked at me.
I knew he was about to tell me the truth.
But then, dammit, he reached for the phone. “I’m calling James Eddie. He can go have a talk with that boy. I won’t sit still for this.”
I lunged across the desk, grabbed the phone before he could stop me, and carried it back to my chair. In the process, his inbox and stapler and several other items were swept off the desk by the cord with a disturbing clatter.
The door opened and Bella stood there, anxious to see what had made the ruckus. Then she saw me sitting there clutching Chester’s phone against my chest.
“Are you okay, Maggie?”
“No,” I said.
“Why don’t you go on home?” She sighed. “You’re in no shape to be here today. You look just awful.”
My head whipped around on its own. “Why? I’m perfectly fine.”
“No, you’re not,” she decided, coming in to take the phone from me. She handed it to Chester then lifted me by the arm. “C’mon, I’ll carry you home. You need a nice long rest. Three or four day’s worth, by the look of you.”
I went with her, glad to be away from Chester who was staring at me like I’d finally gone crazy as Mama. He stared like he feared and pitied me.
“What about my car?”
“You can get it later,” she told me. “We’ll get you all fixed up, sweetie.”
She ushered me from the store like a child with a booboo who needed to be taken home to mama.
***
“You’ve got more problems than anybody I’ve ever known,” Bella told me when we were on the road. “I just wonder why that is for some people.”
I was still wired from my incident with Chester and had to cross my arms and legs to keep from bouncing in my seat.
“It’s because people keep secrets and tell lies and just keep passing on their diseases like they don’t even care.”
She reached over and patted my knee. “I’m sorry, sugar, I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve just been under so much stress lately. I don’t know how you handle it all.”
I didn’t want to talk about it. It was all I could do to handle the stress I was feeling right then.
When she stopped at my house, she reached over and caught my arm to keep me from getting out.
“Just do me one favor, Maggie,” she said. “If you plan to stay with this fella, find out all you can about him. Don’t let love blind you into overlooking any truths. You may think you know him, or that it doesn’t matter, but let me tell you something
, after fifty-three years Chester still surprises me.”
I wondered how surprised she would be when she learned her husband was a vampire. Or did she already know, and that was where this warning came from?
I promised her I would keep my eyes open and went inside, glad to finally be away from people who didn’t approve of my life choices.
But I’d forgotten about Aunt Cynthia. She accosted me the instant I stepped through the front door.
“I want you to go in there and see what he’s doing,” she demanded, pulling me along by the arm.
I tossed my purse at the couch. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s got his door locked and won’t let me in there. I can’t find the key. Where’d you put it?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want you in there,” I told her, wondering why she wanted in my husband’s room while I was at work.
“He’s doing something.” She stopped at the door at the end of the hall and rapped sharply. “Maggie’s here,” she called. “Open the door.”
I didn’t say anything, because I wanted to see what had been happening during my absence. From the other side of the door Damon roared like a lion and hit the door so hard it cracked down the middle.
We both jumped back a foot or two. Cynthia turned wild eyes to me. “See? Tell him you’re here. He’s tearing up my house! Oh god, look!”
I looked down and saw an oozing pool of red seep out from under the door.
I elbowed her aside, alarmed now, and beat on the door. “Damon! Let me in!”
He roared again and didn’t unlock the door. I lifted my fist to knock again, then stepped back. I could sense he didn’t want me there. He was afraid he would hurt me. The roar was a warning to stay away.
I knelt down and dabbed my finger in the red puddle.
“Oh, don’t,” Cynthia complained.
I threw her a look. Did she think I was going to lick it off my finger? Probably.
Instead, I rubbed the substance between my thumb and forefinger, and sniffed. “It’s just paint,” I told her.
“He’s ruining my beautiful hardwood floor!” she wailed.
The floors meant nothing. I had to see if I could get a glimpse into the room. I ran down the hall and out the back door to look in the windows.
He had all the curtains tightly closed, except for the one overlooking the front porch. I checked the door and it was locked, so I cupped my hands and leaned in to squint through the window.
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