Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Beckett
“I’ll admit I was suspicious that you kept so many of these uniform aprons, but I’m getting won over. They’re really useful,” Abi announced as she tucked her phone in a pocket of the frilly white apron she’d donned for today’s basement cleaning session.
“That’s the alluring start.” I pulled a bed sheet off a wooden bookshelf and started scanning the titles printed on the worn leather spines.
“You hang on to things because they’re useful, and they hold up better than modern appliances, and then you start to keep things because surely you can find some use for them, and then before you know it, you’re a full on hoarder.
That is why I’ve forced myself to restrict my hoarding to the basement. ”
“How self-disciplined of you to limit yourself.” Abi prodded an antique globe that was so sun faded the continents were barely discernible from the oceans.
“Thank you for recognizing my sacrifice. You said you were looking for books specifically about supernaturals?”
“Yes. Anything about vampires.” Abi paused in the middle of fixing a sheet covering an antique chaise lounge. “Not because I’m interested in you. That is to say, not because of you, though I suppose as we are friends I should try to learn more about your nature.”
I listened raptly as she rattled, taken by her rare moment of embarrassment.
Abi was grounded and very self-aware. Awkwardness was a rare sight on her, and although it reflected poorly on my personal character, I thought it was quite cute on her.
“It’s because I’m trying to learn more about the vampire attacking the locals,” Abi finally managed to spit out, much to my disappointment.
“You don’t need to defend yourself,” I said, keeping my voice mild.
“Well. I don’t like misunderstandings,” Abi said.
“Perhaps, but I hadn’t instantly thought you wanted a book about vampires because you are rapturously in love with me,” I dryly said with more bitterness than I meant to.
There was some kind of ironic justice that I’d been so guarded against Abi when she’d first arrived and discovered what I was, and now I was breaking nearly every rule I’d made for myself on her behalf.
Prowling the area at night in search of the Unclaimed vampire, talking to other supernaturals in the area to try and pinpoint the nasty vamp because they were a danger to Abi, going into town just because it made her happy—none of these were things I would have ever considered doing before she’d waltzed into my life and made herself at home.
Thinking of her less than tranquil discovery of my nature, I paused. “Will you actually be able to read a book about vampires when it will surely depict blood?” I asked, curious.
“Yeah.” Abi used the hem of her apron to dust the ornate gold frame of an old painting of me. “Because I’m betting it’s all just drawings, right? Unless… do supernaturals secretly have a publishing company and have printed—complete with colored photos—books about themselves?”
“It will all be drawings.”
Abi confidently waved me off. “Then it will be fine. I can’t take horror movies or any TV or movies with really good visual effects, but drawings and black and white pictures are totally fine.”
I tilted my head, thinking. “What about your own blood?”
Abi blinked. “Why would that matter?”
“Given your seeming lack of good sense when it comes to your wellbeing, I should be aware of the finer details about your fear of blood.”
“Ah, good point. I’m fine with a little blood. Cuts, scrapes, that kind of thing. But I’m out like a light if I try to give blood and I see the amount I’m giving.” Abi shivered. “It’s a quantity thing, apparently.”
She’d be fine, then, if I fed off her. There would, at most, be pinpricks of blood left at the bite wound.
The thought came unbidden and mostly unwanted.
Mostly, because there was one positive side effect possible when a vampire fed off a blood donor that made the thought even a little worthwhile.
We vampires secreted a chemical compound in our saliva when drinking from a donor. If a donor gave blood often enough, that compound would keep pumping through their body, giving them a weak form of eternal youth. They wouldn’t age—time would no longer be such a grim threat.
Of course, vampires kept this ability quiet from both humans and other supernaturals.
We didn’t use donors now, not just for the sake of our public image but because it was a risk.
Drinking blood directly from a source lulled us into a state rather like a human after consuming a giant holiday meal followed by a highly alcoholic drink. We were weak and vulnerable.
But I trusted Abi. If I told her about the situation she’d probably get a security system installed for my own safety.
Yes, I was fine living off my blood packs. But Abi’s mortality was an enemy I could not beat with money or power.
I shouldn’t be hasty in this, and I can’t burden Abi. I should wait to bring up the topic until I’m more certain.
Certain about what, I couldn’t quite say, or perhaps I didn’t want to say.
Abi, ignorant to my inner conflict, retreated to the tray of refreshments—a mug of steaming tea and some chocolates—she’d opted to bring down to the basement.
There was something that pulled at my instincts as I watched her pick up the mug. Something that internally screamed she was in danger.
“Abi, what kind of tea is that?” I asked.
Abi paused, the mug half raised to her mouth. “It’s the tea the Paragon gifted to us.”
“What?”
“I told Daphne about it, and she pointed out that even though the Paragon is a fae, he wasn’t going to give anything harmful to us considering his position.”
I stared at her, but Abi didn’t put the mug down, she just blinked and adjusted her glasses with her free hand.
“She told you the tea might give you money somehow, didn’t she?” I guessed.
Abi pressed her hand to her heart, scandalized. “How did you know?!”
I groaned and nudged my glasses up so I could pinch the bridge of my nose. “Because those student loans of yours make you do dangerous things!”
“Okay, yes. But Daphne has a point. There’s no way the tea could be destructive,” Abi said.
“It could be destructive alright,” I grumbled. “Just not in the way you’re thinking.”
Fae were tricky beings. Even if they were trying to be helpful, they usually ended up making things more complicated and/or difficult by the end of it.
Abi—and Daphne by proxy—were right about one thing. The Paragon wouldn’t give us purposely nefarious tea. Still, I wasn’t going to let Abi risk herself, but the stubborn set of her chin said she wasn’t going to give this up.
I sighed and walked over to the table. “I’ll try it first.”
Abi eyed me. “Why? You were all doom and gloom a moment ago.”
“Yes, but if I stop you now, you’re just going to drink this in secret sometime when I’m not around, won’t you?”
Abi pressed her lips together. “Possibly.”
I made a hand it over motion. “So I’ll try the tea first, and once you see what the enchantment or charm is, you can drink it yourself.”
Abi shrugged. “Okay.” She carefully handed the hot mug over.
I noted the strange blue color of the tea, then took a sip.
The warm drink was a momentary shock to my system.
I could eat human food, but I didn’t often bother to—though admittedly I had nibbled more human food in the past few months since Abi had bulldozed her way into my life than I had three decades prior.
I thought I felt the zap of fae magic as it surged through my body, but a few moments passed and I didn’t feel any different.
“So…?” Abi prompted.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Huh. Maybe it’s not enchanted after all, maybe it’s just really expensive tea.”
“Perhaps.” I eyed the mug again and took another sip, this time picking up on the floral taste.
I waited a few more seconds, but there was nothing.
Abi plucked the mug from my hands. “See, you were worried over nothing. You said so yourself, the cat wasn’t magical, and she’s the one that picked the tea out.”
“That is actually a greater cause for alarm,” I countered.
“Why?” She took a sip of the tea and made a sound of approval. “Good flavor.”
“Because fae don’t generally keep normal domesticated pets the way humans do.”
“They don’t?”
“No!”
“Oh. Weird.” Abi said.
Abi’s ease with which she accepted the peculiarities of supernaturals was nice when it applied to me, but inconvenient when she applied it to others.
The Paragon owning a hairless cat was much, much more than ‘weird’ and the fact that the animal picked out our tea would normally require several more colorful adjectives to properly describe the situation.
But to Abi, all it meant was that the Paragon was a particularly proactive pet parent.
Abi sipped the tea again and then set the mug down on the tray. “Can we get back to book perusing?”
“As you wish.” I returned to the bookshelf, which was the most promising spot so far for supernatural books. “When I suggested coming down here to look for books, you said you had something to ask me?”
“Yes.” Abi uncovered a cedar chest and cracked it open, coughing at the strong scent of mothballs. She confirmed it was filled with clothes before shutting it again. “I was wondering… did you know Christopher isn’t human?”
I studied a book written in Latin about werewolves. “Of course.”
“Then is he a vampire?”
“No.” I selected a slim book written by a vampire slayer and pulled it out. It would cover exactly the kind of thing Abi wanted, unfortunately the book was at least two centuries old and written in German. “Christopher is a fae.”
“A fae?” Abi joined me at the bookcase, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Yes.” I put the book back. “That’s why he’s such a dramatic eccentric.”
Abi planted a hand on the frame of the bookcase. “Are you sure he’s fae, and not a vampire?”
I crouched down to study a lower shelf. “Absolutely. He’s fleeing a Chicago fae Court as he’s the youngest son of a Seelie Queen.
He’s a prince, though he isn’t interested in the struggle for the throne, unlike the rest of his siblings.
One of my acquaintances sent him to me, knowing that I hate politics so much I’d be willing to take him in out of the sheer principle. ”
“Oh. Wait, is he so bad with technology because he’s a prince and is used to people doing things for him?”
“In a way, yes. Also, Seelie and Unseelie fae aren’t the most technologically advanced.
” I pulled a book off the shelf. It was a newer tome I’d collected, one about vampires and their one—or the person they recognize as the love of their life.
It would be no use for Abi, but for some reason I didn’t put it back on the shelf, and instead I put it aside.
“That would also explain his weird way of talking I guess. But what about his odd hours?”
“I believe he is one of the nature-loving variety of fae and spends much of his daylight hours outside.”
“Aw, jeez. There’s no getting around it, then.
He’s a fae.” Abi sighed and pulled the sheet off the bookshelf next to mine.
“I was starting to think he was the vampire going around and jumping people. Daphne could tell he was a supernatural, but she didn’t get a good enough whiff to confirm what type he was. There goes that idea.”
Finding no appropriate books for Abi, I settled the sheet back over my bookcase, shielding it once again. “It would be safer for you if you left the snooping to the supernaturals.”
Abi raised her eyebrows at me. “I’m not judging you for your lack of action, even though you’re the most powerful supernatural in the area. That means you have to respect my decision to work with Daphne.”
“I respect your decision, but I worry for your safety.” Something buzzed in the back of my mouth and I blurted out, without thinking, “Your wellbeing is foremost in my heart like a prized possession in a dragon shifter’s hoard.”
I frowned so deeply in my confusion my forehead wrinkled.
Why did I say that? I didn’t think that, much less mean to speak it.
“It seems like the tea was enchanted after all,” Abi said. “Like a phoenix egg laid in the nest of a tired and overworked robin.”
Abi mashed her lips together and we exchanged looks.