Grabbing a box of fish sticks out of the freezer, I fry some up for Muohta and me.He’s already chomping down the salmon kibble I poured out for him, but I have learned to share all my meals with Mu.
Yes, I am forcing myself to eat.Carefully spooning some fresh potato salad and the frozen green beans I prepared in the microwave onto the plate with the fish fingers, I sprinkle on lots of ionized salt, too.I need to replenish all that blood I lost.
That reminds me.Sifting through the dozens of items in the junk drawer—old pens, rubber bands, sachets of ketchup—I find a half full bottle of multivitamins.Popping two into my mouth, I swallow them down with about half a gallon of water.Rummaging through the freezer, I find a well-aged steak and put it in the fridge to defrost.
Mu barks by my side as I sit on the barstool by the kitchen counter and eat.“You want fish sticks?Good boy.”
But Muohta sniffs at the food and ignores it.Is he coming down with something?Tempest wrote in her notebook that the dog is up to date on all his shots.
Reaching down, I give Mu a loving pat.I get a shock and jump when he barks real loud in my face.
Something is up.Time for me to check him for ticks.The Midnight Riders might not be the only blood suckers on Landslide.
Sitting on the floor, I do what I have been longing to do since my arrival; I bury my hands in the dog’s warm fur.For the first time, Muohta sits still and lets me pet him.
“I suppose I’m going to have to pick through all of this ridiculously long fur,” I tell Mu, thinking he has a right to know what I’m doing.“Hey, I didn’t even know you had a collar underneath all this fluff, doggy.”
Muohta barks loud, breathing fish stink up my nose.But I don’t reel back from the smell, because I think this dog might have been trying to tell me something since I came here.
I should check under his collar if I want to be sure there are no ticks…
Fumbling with the buckle, I remove Mu’s black leather collar.
A shiver of paranoia makes my belly tighten.
Holy crap.The recipe was hiding in plain sight!Dangling from the buckle hoop is a large rectangular dog tag—with my name on it.
Looking over my shoulder at the kitchen window and the door that leads to the mud room, I check to see if anyone is watching.I can’t help it.I know I am holding the key to an endless supply of vampire booze in my hands.
The kitchen curtains rattle as I draw them closed.After locking the mud room and bolting the front door, I take Mu into the living room, and we sit on the couch together.
My heart breaks with sorrow as I look at the proof of Tempest’s once happy life.The black leather collar is old and cracked, but it’s easy to see that it is the same kind of leather worn by the Riders.A gift to Tempest from Ifan, I know it.I imagine him clasping the band around her neck to hide the spot where he feeds from her.And then Tempest uses it as a dog collar long after Ifan has hit the road and left Tempest behind forever.
But it is the dog tag I am interested in.It’s about the same size and shape as one of those luggage labels travelers clip around the handle; a plastic waterproof pouch with a transparent window.I recognize Tempest’s handwriting.
F.Y.E.O.Luna Blackwood.
For Your Eyes Only.
Well, Muohta made damn sure of that.
Prising open the pouch, I manage to pull out the thickly folded paper.Again, I double check to make sure I am alone before spreading the thin sheets of paper out on the coffee table.The writing is so close and cramped, I figure it must have been done with a magnifying glass.
Wow, Tempest.You might have been my aunt, but damn girl, you had a lot on your mind.
The letter gets straight to the point.
Dear Luna,
I hope that by the time you read this, Dante will have brought you up to speed with everything in our crazy Landslide life.He is a strict master, but not a cruel one.I should say rather that he’s never been cruel to me.
Even when I fell head over heels in love with my darling mad, bad, and dangerous Ifan, and we mysteriously were able to fall pregnant against all odds, Dante gave me a second chance.
I hope you don’t think I’m being vulgar if I mention the importance of a vampire’s sex and desire.Needless to say that because they were all straight men when they were alive, they are strictly limited to feeding on similar type women.All the kinks and fetishes from their human lives have carried over into their vampiric existence.
If they enjoyed eating out pussy when they were human or got turned on by spanking, or whatever, you can bet they still love doing that.So naughty, I know.But men are men—even when they are vampires.
It is a cliché to write this, but if you are reading this it means I’m dead—and my half-breed son was the one who killed me.He will make it look like an ordinary murder, but we know better.He hates me because I gave that human vulnerability to him.
