“I’ll help you,” Hasan says with a smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve sharpened any weapons.”
* * *
“It’s getting late.”Jacques tears his eyes away from the TV for the first time in at least half an episode. I was able to hook my laptop up to the old TV in the living room and stream Netflix, and the guys are enthralled. We’re currently working our way throughThe Office, which I find hilarious no matter how many times I watch it. A lot of the humor is lost with the guys not understanding the references.
“I don’t have to go to work in the morning, so I can sleep in. Which is exactly what I plan to do,” I say, carefully dragging my knife down along the stick in my hands. I’m on my last wooden stake, thank God. I’ve gotten several splinters already. I run the knife down the stake again, then test the point. It’s sharp. Very sharp.
I brush wood shavings off my lap and get up to put the stake with the others. Between Hasan, Jacques, and myself, we’ve made nearly a dozen stakes. Since the wood I used was from fallen branches in the yard, some turned out better and stronger than others, which is why we thought it would be a good idea to make several.
“I’ll get holy water tomorrow,” I start, and sit back on the couch next to Jacques. His wings go in toward his body a bit when I draw near in a subconscious movement he’s been doing all night. I’ve tested it a few times to make sure. I get close, he tenses.
I hate that it bothers me. I don’t have time for this.
“And then what, just pour it over the stakes?” I look at the pile of wood on the coffee table.
Without answering me, Jacques gets up. I look over at Hasan, hoping he knows what’s up with his friend, but he’s too busy watching Dwight on the screen to notice. I sweep shavings into a pile with my hand, making a mental note to bring my vacuum over from home tomorrow. The whole house needs to be cleaned.
A minute later, Jacques returns with a metal mixing bowl. He puts the stakes in it, sharp tips down, and sets it back on the coffee table.
“Fill this as close to halfway as you can. As long as the pointy ends are blessed, it should be enough. You’re not going to stab the entire stake through their hearts.”
“Oh, right. That makes sense. I only need a couple of inches to stab and kill. God, that’s weird to say.”
Jacques’s face softens and he sits on the couch again, holding his wings open more than normal in an attempt to keep me away. “Are you all right with this, Ace?”
“Yeah. Well, as much as I can be. I’ve fired at bad guys, shot one before, too. Not fatally, though. I solve crimes. I help people. I’m not a…a…”
“Killer,” he finishes for me, and I nod. “It’s not the same thing. The vampires are already dead, you know that. Their human life, their soul, ended the day they were turned. You’re doing them justice by vanquishing the devils inside them. Would you want that walking around in your body?”
“Fuck no.” I grab the end of my braid and twist it around my fingers. “I didn’t think about it like that. Thanks. Again. You’re good at inspirational speeches.”
He gives me the smallest smile and relaxes a bit, leaning back on the couch. Thomas and Gilbert come inside to get something to eat but stop dead in their tracks when they see the TV on. With the guys insisting someone needs to keep watch for vampires outside, Jacques quickly offers to go out and trade places with the twins. Anything to get away from me.
I show them where things are in the kitchen so they can make sandwiches and leave them to it while I go upstairs to change into my PJs and brush my teeth. When I get back down, Thomas, Gilbert, and Hasan are all eating turkey sandwiches while watching TV. I quickly make one more and take it outside for Jacques.
“Jac?” I call softly when I get onto the front porch. The chill is finally starting to leave the air and the feel of spring is setting into the earth. “Are you out here?” I stop at the edge of the porch and look out into the dark yard. I’m barefoot and while it has warmed up, the cobblestone path will be cold underfoot.
Something rustles ahead, and I cannot tell what it is from up here. The porch lights are too harsh and it’s too dark. I can’t see shit. I set the plate on the wide stone railing and step off the porch.
“What are you doing, Ace?” Jacques asks from above. He gracefully glides down from the roof, landing a foot from me.
“I heard something.”
“Where?” He’s immediately on the defensive.
“In the brush near the street.”
“Stay here.” He takes off to check it out. I watch, irritated to just stand here. That’s not me. But I’m barefoot and it’s cold and I’m fairly certain whatever I heard was a wild animal. I don’t get a bad feeling about it, and while I’m the first—wasthe first, I should say—to call bullshit on any sort of psychic powers, I’ve always had good police intuition.
“It was a small gray creature with black stripes on its tail,” Jacques says when he returns.
“Raccoon,” I say. “They’re all over the place. Cute, but pesky little things.”
He nods. “You heard that from inside the house?”
“No.” I motion to the sandwich. “I brought you something to eat before I go to bed.”
“Oh. Thanks.” He holds my gaze and the longing for him is back in my heart, though this time I’m questioning if it’s from the dream or not. I know what I felt in the dream isn’t real. My attraction to him is and has been since the first time I laid eyes on him. “You’re doing a good job, Ace,” he adds as I turn to go back inside. I pause, biting my lip.
