Four
CJ
On the way to the store I turn the radio all the way up, singing along with it at the top of my lungs.
Fuck Elliot.
This new life I've got, it’s not too damn shabby. Weird, for sure, but normal wasn’t exactly working for me. I think a little weird is just what the doctor ordered.
With that in mind, I take Wes’s advice and buy myself some new notebooks—the nice leather-bound kind—some expensive gel-ink pens, a few new outfits, and, for good measure, a billowy robe.
At the register, mixed in with all the last-minute goodies tempting shoppers, is a shelf filled with chocolate-covered butterscotch toffees.
I throw the box in as well.
“Can you believe it?” my cashier says to the woman working at the register next to her as she bags up my items carefully.
“I know. It’s just so creepy. My brother-in-law works at the coffee shop next to the police station and knows a few cops who come in regularly. He said they don’t have any suspects or leads.”
“Of course they don’t. This is the first vampire killing in years. They’re not prepared for this. None of us are safe. I went to that bar like three weeks ago. It could have been me.”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupt them. “Did you say vampire killing?”
“Yeah. Some girl outside McClain’s. Full-on drained her. Be careful out there. Vamps are everywhere. Never should have let ‘em into the light of day if y’all ask me. Things that hide in the night hide for a reason.”
I nervously reach up to feel if my pinhole bites are still there on my neck. They are, but they are tiny. I pull my hair forward, hiding them.
“Ah, thanks.” I take my receipt and my bag and quickly head out to the parking lot.
I get into the car and turn on the radio. After two minutes of trying to figure out how to change the radio from satellite to local stations, I abandon it and pull out my phone.
TVCM news has a video posted on Instagram and I tap it to play the sound. A woman in a business suit not all that different from the ones I had in my old closet is walking towards a group of women in workout clothes dabbing their eyes.
“The victim, found just four hundred feet from the doorway of the bar, has been identified as twenty-four-year-old Keira Tucker. Keira was a fitness instructor at St. Phillippe Cycle Center. Those closest to her could not be reached for comment, but some of her regulars did have kind words to say about the longtime fitness instructor.”
To my absolute horror, Sutton Pruitt, Elliot’s best friend’s wife, who convinced me to go see Keira in the first place, comes into view, along with her perpetual tagalongs, Vivvy and Fallon.
“Keira was the absolute best. She’d have you in a size three in just a few months. I just can’t believe this is happening. Vamps should be outlawed. They’re like, so dangerous. They’re against God. Keira was the nicest. She didn’t deserve to be killed by vamps.”
Sutton keeps saying the word vamps as though it has two syllables.
Vivvy and Fallon just stand behind Sutton, nodding emphatically without speaking, as per usual.
This couldn’t have been Baz, could it?
No, there’s no way. He’s broody and pissy but he wouldn’t kill someone. I mean, sure, he was pretty mad about me letting Andre feed first. And I know he went to a bar last night and fed off some woman.
“No one important,” he said.
Did he know it was her? Was he doing it for me? No, he wouldn’t.
Would he?
If he did kill Keira, which I’m sure he didn’t, then it was probably an accident. A simple took-too-much-blood situation. She probably didn’t have anyone to make her pancakes and bacon afterwards and make sure she drinks enough water. Pampering was never Elliot’s thing.
Fuck.
How is this happening? I need to know what bar Baz went to last night.
I put the Bentley in gear and drive back to Belladonna Hollow. As I pull into the driveway, I’m met with Andre and Wes fussing over a shiny, black soft-top Bronco just as the GPS in the Bentley announces, “You have arrived at home.”
I leave my bags in the car and get out.
“Where’s Baz? I need to talk to him.”
“He’s running an errand,” Andre answers. “He should be back shortly.”
“Do you know where he went? I really need to talk to him. Like, right now.”
“I do. Would you like to take the Bentley to see him, or perhaps you’d like to take your new car.”
Wes smiles and leans against the side of the car.
For a second the panic in my chest is replaced with a feeling of overwhelming gratitude. Like, the kind that hurts.
“This is for me? Seriously, you guys got me a car?”
“I told you we would,” Wes says so nonchalantly.
“It’s top of the line—leather heated seats, soft-top convertible, all the bells and whistles,” Andre assures me.
“This is, really? I just… this is too much.”
My inner voice is telling me to shut up. This is a new Bronco! Take it!
It’s also telling me that they are giving me money, new clothes, a new car, and a home.
Tears form in my eyes. I open my mouth but words won’t come.
I am sufficiently overwhelmed and finally can put my finger on what is so terrifying about all of this.
And it isn’t the vampires or the blood or the unknown.
It’s the comfort.
The last time I thought I found something—or rather someone—good in life, he turned out to be a cheating, woman-hitting shithead.
Andre, sensing my trepidation, walks over to me.
“Celia Jane.” He takes my hands gently. “Last night you learned that we are vampire royalty and that a different world exists alongside yours, and you’re having difficulty with the fact that we got you a car?”
“It’s not that, it’s just…” I drag my fingers along the shiny paint. It’s not so much that he got me a car, it’s that it still feels like there’s a catch. I can’t decide whether or not to say that to him, and I’m glad Baz isn’t here to hear it in my thoughts. Then I remember.
Baz.
I look around. “Where’s my old car?”
“Baz is taking it back to that sorry excuse of a husband. I’m only sorry I couldn't meet him. He sounded like a real jerk.”
“First-class asshole,” Wes chimes in, and I feel myself laugh.
“Empress, you listen to me.” Andre’s voice is soft like velvet.
“If this car is too much we’ll dial it down.
Whatever you are comfortable with. But take it for a spin, take it to go find Baz.
Let us know what you think. I want to remind you, you are in control.
And on that note… remember you asked about my vampire abilities?
One of them is the ability to inflict ailments.
You say the word and I’ll zip over to your old house and give your ex a nice case of cholera. ”
“Cholera?”
“I think a nice intestinal infection is in order. It’s quite painful and disgusting, I assure you.”
Wes nods and mouths the words do it.
I smile at them, feeling myself relax a little. “Thank you both. Really. This is incredible. For now, let’s skip the cholera. But I do need to talk to Baz. It’s important.”
“If you insist.” He shrugs. “The keys are in the car, and the insurance and registration are in the glove compartment. It’s all taken care of.”
I hop in my new car, wondering what else in my life they might be “taking care” of.