I will not let harm come to you, the werewolf had told him.
They moved fast, the monsters who fought. It was like trying to follow the beating of a fly’s wing—and the night’s heavy shadows didn’t help. Kelly blinked to relieve the eye strain, and while he had his eyes closed, it happened.
With a grotesque snap of bone, the vampire’s head popped off—popped freakin’ all the way off—and the only monster still moving in the woods was standing on the dead vampire’s body. Kelly couldn’t see colors well in the dark, but the wolf’s muzzlewas wet with something dark as he lifted his head to the moon and howled.
“Don’t move,” muttered Meg. “I mean it. Nobody move. Don’t meet his eyes, and if you do, go down to your knees and bow your head.”
“Werewolves are supposed to be friendly,” said Trace, trying to jerk out of Meg’s hold.
The werewolf who had been Kelly’s blind date focused his attention on Trace. Asil’s upper lip curled back, exposing fangs that were bigger and more dangerous-looking than the fangs of the tiger Kelly had seen yawning in a zoo when he was six. He’d had nightmares after that visit for years.
Trace had the same reaction as Kelly’s six-year-old self. His mouth dropped open and fear pulled his eyes wide in a cartoonish expression. “Holy shit. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Meg thumped Trace on the back of his head, sending him staggering forward because he wasn’t ready for it at all. He landed in a graceless sprawl not ten feet from the werewolf and almost on top of the vampire’s head. Trace lifted his head and got a face-to-bleeding-amputated-neck view of the vampire, made a squeaky noise, and passed out cold.
Asil climbed off the vampire, his body moving in a stiff and jerky caricature of the graceful power of his fight. Yellow eyes grabbed Kelly—and he was sure they were yellow, even in the darkness.
“Kelly,” said Meg urgently.
“He promised he wouldn’t hurt me,” said Kelly, and the wolf’s eyes focused on him. Unbearable pressure dropped Kelly as quickly as Meg’s shove had dropped Trace, and he bowed his head.
“We’ll do what we promised,” Kelly told the ground. “We’ll explain to Trace that messing with other people’s dating lives is dangerous. We’ll explain why knowing about vampires is even more dangerous and that he should keep his mouth shut. We’ll talk to her uncle if there is a problem. We’ll trust you to take care of the body.” He paused.
I will not let harm come to you.
“Thank you for the most interesting date of my life,” Kelly told the wolf. “Much better than I expected when I started out to the restaurant today.”
When he looked up, the wolf was gone.
Dear Asil,
There was a body. But after some discussion we decided to give this one to you. We owe you some leeway for our missing that Kelly was a boy, not a girl. The body wasn’t your date—and arguably was dead when it became a vampire in the first place. So preexisting dead bodies will not count against you. No one ran screaming into the night—mostly because the person most likely to do that fainted. Your first date was a success! We’re very proud of you.
Your second date has been arranged, two days from now. We chose the dating site MustLoveCats.com. We did (while pretending to be you) tell her that you did not at this time have a pet cat because after your last one died, you couldn’t bear to replace it.
Be grateful. We had planned on using PrettyPenPals.com, but organizing a date for you with a woman who could not leave her prison cell was too much trouble, even for us.
Sincerely,
Your Concerned Friends
PS—Merry Christmas
Asil pinched his nose and laughed.
Asil’s SecondDate
Must Love Cats: Aftermath
“My Concerned Friends, I begin to distrust your competence,” Asil murmured, with a final wave as the last rig belonging to the Belt Mountain Pack began its trek down the five-mile-long dirt road that connected the isolated barn to the nearest highway.
Sebastian—Asil couldn’t recall the last name the Belt Mountain Alpha was using this century—responded to his wave with a quick honk and a flash of lights as he carried away the last of the tarped bodies of the dead and the two women who were the only human survivors of Asil’s second date. The first he rather thought was an innocent victim. The second was his date.
He inhaled the icy air and considered his next move. It was perhaps a mistake. Not the consideration of the path forward but inhaling the icy air. It burned in his lungs on the way down. Great Falls lay directly in the path of arctic winds. Aspen Creek, where Asil made his home, was warmer. Maybe not a lot warmer—but the difference between ten degrees and zero felt like a significant amount.
Though at home he already had a foot of snow, and here there was only a dusting of white on the hard-packed earth. He fancied that was because it was too cold to snow.
Asil turned away from the retreating cars, putting the wind at his back, and frowned at the task before him. “And this, Asil, is why you don’t let other people arrange dates for you.”
