Gil scoffed. “As if. What, we throw on some suits and ties, bring out the fake IDs and badges? What is this, a costume party? Not happening. Leave that sort of investigating to humans and hunters. Besides, like I said, the Blood of Garm has pack members in the force. Probably unethical as shit that Damien knows as much as he does, but what the cops know, he knows.”
“Fair point,” I said. “We’re not normals. Gotta think like we’re not normals. Gotta think like freaks.”
Asher snapped his fingers, his eyes lighting up with excitement in the rearview mirror. “We can check out Everett’s grave tomorrow, find some answers about this place, and about the Masque.”
See? Always nice to have a necromancer in your corner. Loved me some freaks.
“Sounds good to me,” I said.
“In the meantime, we’re going to do some cleaning around the house,” Gil said to the window, his arms still folded. “Get the place in order. Make it livable.”
I sighed. “Whatever you want, Dad.”
I caught him turning to me and glaring out of the corner of my eye, just for a briefest second. Aww, he wasn’t that mad at me, after all.
You know how your body starts to relax when it realizes it’s nearing the end of a long journey? My legs were as wobbly as jelly by the time we pulled into the Everett House driveway. Cold air rushed into the car as we dragged ourselves out and up to the cabin. I unlocked the front door. Asher rushed in, hugging his elbows and shivering. Gil hit the lights with a flick of his fingers.
A hum, a crackle, and the lights immediately went back out again.
I hissed into the darkness, blinking as my eyes adjusted rapidly.
Asher yelped. “Huh? What’s happening? Is it an ambush?” He snapped his fingers, a plume of sickly green energy sprouting from his palm.
“Worse,” Gil said, his face exhausted, ghoulish in the pale light of Asher’s magic. “It’s a power outage.”
Gil did some inspecting through the cabin’s innards and came back with some bad news. Technically, it was worse than a power outage. The electricity had failed. This old-ass cabin had finally shown its old, ancient ass, crapping out on us in the dark of night. See, that wasn’t necessarily a problem for me, vision wise, nor for Gil, and the moonlight outside was still sort of enough for Asher to stumble around by.
Nope. The problem was basically everything else. The boys had brought a space heater, and they were freezing. We didn’t trust the flues of the cabin to use the fireplace, either. Hadn’t been cleaned out or even used in forever. There might have been some rats stuck in there. Dead bodies? I don’t fucking know.
So Asher and Gil huddled together for warmth, piled under every single blanket we could find in the house. I contributed my tailored leather jacket, too, for whatever comfort it could afford. The sound of the two of them shivering and cursing softly as they tried to get some shut-eye wasn’t the best white noise for me to relax to, but it worked well enough.
I was tired, okay? Vampires get tired, too. I eased into my night cap, the second of only three bottles I’d brought with me. The crystal phial was still warm, its enchantments holding beautifully. This blood flowed more easily, not as thick or as rich as the first bottle, but textured and delectable in its own unique way. Every person is a story, and you can read faint traces of the chapters in their blood.
This was from a twenty-three-year-old man, handsome, strong, grown south of the Bible Belt and come west to try his hand at becoming a movie star. I sighed as I swallowed his stories. Glimmering hope sparked under a skin-thin layer of discontent and desperation, a swirling tumult of emotions. Actors, am I right?
I kissed the last of his blood off the rim of the bottle, licking the final drop from the corner of my lips. Radiant warmth ran through my body, returning life to my coldest vents and chambers. I closed my eyes, accepting that I needed rest to be at my best, trying not to think too hard about how I had just one last bottle of precious sustenance left.
My sleep was deep. In my dreams, I was a hit at the blockbuster. I signed autographs. I died of a cocaine overdose.
I awoke to the unmistakable fragrance of garlic, fried crisp and buttery in a pan. I pushed myself up, opening my eyes to a darkness not so different from the night before. I must have slept some twelve, thirteen hours. Nice. To say I felt refreshed would be an understatement.
The cabin was empty again. Asher and Gil must have wandered off for whatever reason. The garlic smell came from a covered plate on the dinner table. I lifted it up, savoring the scent of one of Asher’s signature dishes. Sinangag was Filipino fried rice, typically served for breakfast, made with scrambled eggs and lots of garlic. You could throw anything else in there, too, make it an even tastier dish: dried fish, shredded chicken, Filipino sausage. Sky’s the limit.
A little piece of paper was propped up on the table. “All yours. Went into town. Be back soon.” Asher had signed it off with a loopy cartoon heart and a giant capital letter A.
“Love that little bastard,” I muttered, shoveling mouthfuls of the rice down my throat, not even bothering to heat it all up.
Delicious. Whichever vampire start
ed the garlic myth was either a genius at misinformation, or a poor sap with a really, really bad allium allergy. Same for silver. Just propaganda. I can’t tell you how funny it is every time someone shoves a silver crucifix in my face, expecting me to recoil or something. Don’t just blame us vampires, though, werewolves were in on the con, too.
Speaking of werewolves, my phone started freaking out in my pocket, playing the appropriate though perhaps slightly offensive custom ring tone I’d assigned to Gil. It was a wolf, howling at the moon. It usually pissed him off if I didn’t pick up after the second howl. Seeing as how pissed he’d already been the night before, I decided to be a pal and pick up after the first.
“Electrician’s coming,” he said. No “Hello, how are you? Did you sleep well?” Still pissed at me, then.
“What?” I said through a mouthful of rice.
“Something tripped in the house last night, so we’ve been poking around looking for an electrician who’s willing to service a house with a sleeping vampire in it.”