Five
CJ
I pull out of the driveway, thinking a little more about what Andre just said.
The registration is all set.
It couldn’t be. They don’t have any of my documentation, and I haven’t officially changed my address. I haven’t even contacted my insurance to let them know that I moved.
I stop at a red light and reach into the glove compartment. Sure enough, there’s my name on the insurance and registration.
Celia Jane Carlisle.
How the hell are they doing this?
I pull into my old neighborhood doing ten miles over the speed limit.
The houses look so blah. So repetitive. I never really felt at home here.
Never really decorated. Never chatted outside with any of the neighbors.
I always felt like an outsider. Funny that in three days I feel more at home in an old plantation-style home with three vampires than I ever did in three months with my husband in our carefully picked out house.
I spot my old car in my old driveway, and the door to my old house is open just a little.
There’s no sign of Elliot’s car anywhere.
I pull in and head over to the door. No signs of a break-in. That’s good, I guess.
“Hello? Anyone home?”
No answer from Elliot or Baz. Elliot is almost certainly at work. It is the middle of the day.
“Baz. Are you in here?” I call out nervously.
“Upstairs,” he answers.
I find Baz in my old bedroom, packing a suitcase. He’s filling it with my old clothes.
“What are you doing?”
“Just packing some of your things.”
“I don’t want any of those things. That's why I left them here.”
“Oh, thank the gods.” He holds up a hanger. “This suit is hideous.”
“Seriously, what are you doing in here? You guys are buying me new clothes. You didn’t need to come get these.”
“I know you left in a hurry. And I didn’t want you to ever have to come back here. I just wanted to pack anything you might want. Aaand if Elliot came home while I was doing that… so be it.”
I roll back on my heels and cross my arms.
“I thought vampires couldn’t enter houses without permission.”
“You read too many books.”
“Hazard of the profession.” I narrow my eyes. “Were you going to hurt him?”
“Probably not.”
“Let me be crystal clear. You know, for clarity,” I echo his words from this morning. “I don’t want you to hurt him. Or anyone else.” I walk over to the window and look down at my old backyard. The red beach chair I left outside is still there, fading in the sun. “Baz, did you… hurt Keira, for me?”
“Who?”
“Keira, my husband’s mistress.” That still feels so strange to say. “The spin instructor.”
“Duchess, what are you talking about?”
“She’s dead. My husband's mistress, Keira, was found outside a bar, dead from a vampire bite. Completely drained. You said you went out to eat last night. At a bar.”
“Out to eat, hah. I like the way you phrase things. You have to let me read some of your work.”
In all the time I’ve known Elliot, he’s never asked to read anything I write. In less than a week, both Wes and Baz have asked.
“Was the bar McClain’s?”
Baz stops. “Let me see the woman in question.”
I pull out my phone and search up a picture of Keira from the gym’s website.
“That’s her, but I don’t kill humans when I feed. I am quite skilled in that regard. She did go a little limp, but she was quite well when I left. If someone killed her, it wasn’t me.”
Baz walks downstairs and I follow him out onto the front step. I don’t know what to say. Of all the people in this town, why her? We’re not outside more than two seconds when I hear, “Hello there, CJ!”
I sigh. “Hi Mrs. Cutwater.”
The nosy neighbor across the street—the one always peeking out from behind her shades—scurries over her lawn and across the pavement.
“I was going to tell you that the block party has been moved from one to two. The Havisham twins have soccer. Not a reason to move a whole party if you ask me, but nobody asked me. I've taken it upon myself to tell everyone. Someone has to keep this place organized. Of course I’m happy to do it, but I haven’t seen you in a few days.
” She eyes Baz up and down. He’s wearing jeans as usual, with a loose white button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves. “Who’s your friend?”
“Mrs. Cutwater, Elliot and I aren’t together anymore. That’s why you haven’t seen me around. I moved out. I was just getting a few of my things.”
“Heavens to Betsy, you kids these days have no idea how to do things. Y’all are such a great couple.
You haven’t even been together long enough to have hard times,” she says, as if she’s practically devastated, then leans in for a non-whisper whisper.
“Everyone makes mistakes. How could you not when men out there look like that?” She gives Baz another look and winks at me.
“But darlin’, people will talk. You can’t be parading your problems all over the front porch.
Show a little discretion. Elliot’s a good man. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”
Baz looks like he’s going to burst out laughing.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but Elliot had an affair, not me. We have to go. Bye now.”
She huffs and looks like she wants to say more just as a police car pulls up. Mrs. Cutwater scurries back across the road, no doubt eager to spread her newly acquired gossip.
The officer parks directly in front of the house, gets out of the car, and saunters over to us.
Fuck, we’re never getting out of here.
“Is this your home?”
“Not anymore, but it was. My husband and I are separating. I was just grabbing a few of my things. Oh, and dropping off the car. That’s why there are two of us. We were just leaving. Sorry to waste your time.”
“And you are?” He turns to Baz.
“Bored with this conversation. Get to the point.”
“Baz!”
“I’ll get right to the point then,” the officer says, and I look at Baz again. How did he do that?
“Someone called about trespassing here. We’re following up on every call. We’re investigating a vampire murder. The anonymous caller said you looked suspicious.”
“I am a vampire, but it wasn’t me. Or her. She’s human. You can move on with your investigation to more promising avenues.”
“Very well, sir. Sorry to bother you both.” The cop walks back over to his car, climbs in, radios something about all clear, and drives away.
“How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“That! You just told him what to think and he thought it.”
“Advanced technologies, remember?”
“So, can you convince anyone of anything? Are you convincing me to live with you?”
“If I was convincing you to live with us, don’t you think it would be easier than this?”
“Good point.” I turn and pull the door shut, and see the doorbell camera.
“Oh shit, we’re on the doorbell camera. Great. Elliot is going to watch this. He’s going to know we were in the house. He’s probably the one who called.”
Baz waves his hand in front of it.
“No he won’t. It’s out of battery. And Mrs. Cutwater across the street is the one who called.”
“How do you know that?”
He tilts his head at me, and I remember he can read minds.
“Right, right. Advanced technology.”
I nod and wince, the larger bite mark on my neck is really bothering me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I'm fine. This one is just sore.”
“It’s a primal bite. No amount of inherent healing will take it away completely. Primal bites pull not just blood, but marrow.”
“Did you just say marrow? Andre took marrow?”
Baz reaches up, swipes over it, and I smell lavender and vanilla and musk.
A warm sensation floods between my legs, and a vision of me unbuttoning Baz’s pants and dropping to my knees right here on this doorstep flashes into my head.
I’m quick to think it away. But not fast enough, and Baz raises his eyebrows.
“I didn’t think that on my own! What is it about vampires that causes that? Is it like… dopamine or something?”
“Causes what?” he says.
“It’s cute, the way you play coy like you have no idea what I’m talking about when I know perfectly well that you know exactly what I'm thinking. You saw that.”
“I saw nothing. I’m not listening in.”
“Yes, you are. I might not be able to read your mind, but I can tell that you’re lying. I want to know how you do that. Power over me with sex just from a simple touch. Seriously, what is the mechanism there? I want to understand.”
“It’s pretty basic, actually. Vampires are more animalistic.
We remind humans of their true nature, the same way that going to the beach makes you revel in the sound of the waves and the way going camping or on a hike makes you appreciate and feel one with nature.
Vampires are carnal. When you are close to us, you want to be carnal, too.
Technically, it’s your mind conjuring things, not mine.
It’s actually harder to make it not happen.
I’ve been actively trying to spare you. But I slipped for a second. ”
“So, you’re fighting to not turn me into a dripping puddle of sex-kitten?”
He laughs. “Again, I love the way you word things. Yes.”
“Well, I appreciate that. Thank you for not overpowering me. Usually. And for trying to stay out of my head. I know you find it frustrating. Thanks for being frustrated for me.”
He licks his lips. “You’re welcome.”
An image of Baz bending me over the edge of my old bed flashes into my brain. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Fast.”
“You sure you don’t want to go back and pack a pantsuit or two?” He laughs as we walk to the car.