“I know that, I just meant . . .” He smooths back his blond hair and sighs. “You want tea?”
I frown. And nod. I sit on the sofa.
Nico comes back from the kitchen with two mugs and a pint of milk. He sits on the chair.
I cross one leg over the other and pick a piece of lint off my knee. “So you’re going to marry my aunt.”
“That’s right.” His chin is sticking out, like he’s expecting whatever nasty thing I say next. I can’t overemphasize what an unpleasant face the man has. Sour and smirking. Handsome in an angry way. Like the lead singer of a band who resents how popular his music is with teenage girls.
He must be nearly 40—he’s Ebb’s twin brother—but he looks like an unhealthy 20-something. His skin is grey, and his eyes are tired. Is this what I look like? Is this what I’ll always look like? Like a 21-year-old who never gets any sleep?
Nico wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. There are gaps where his eyeteeth were. At least I still have my smile.
“Congratulations,” I say. “Does this mean you’re turning over a new leaf?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know whether you’ve noticed, but my aunt is a vampire hunter.”
He smirks. “Yeah, I’ve noticed—have you?”
I find some more lint on my trousers. Perhaps I should just leave. Fiona doesn’t need my blessing for this.
“I’m not gonna Turn your aunty,” Nico says. “Is that what you’re worried about? If I were gonna Turn Fiona, I woulda done it already. I wouldn’t put a scratch on her.”
“That’s cold comfort for all the people you murder.”
“I don’t—” He sets his tea down, and pulls an e-cigarette out of his pocket. He takes a hit off it. “I’m done with all that. Fi’s made me go vegan.”
“Vegan?” I say, genuinely surprised.
He rolls his hand in the air. “You know . . . Rats, cats, bats. Nothing that talks back to me. I feel like shit, and now I can look forward to losing my hair, but I reckon it doesn’t matter. Don’t wanna live forever without Fiona, at any rate.”
I sit up.What does he—
Does that mean—
I refuse to ask Nicodemus Petty any vampire questions.
But . . .
“Do you mean . . .” I say, “that it affects you? Not having . . . people?”
“You fucking with me?” He sneers. “You think you can find immortality at the bottom of, what the shit, a squirrel?”
“I—”
The front door opens, and Fiona walks in with a paper bakery bag and coffee. “Basil.” She looks at me, then at Nico, then back at me. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine,” he says. “I made tea.”
“I . . .” I stand up. “Fiona, could I talk to you for a moment?”
“I’ll step out,” Nico says. “Could use a nip anyway.” He walks to the door, patting my aunt’s shoulder on the way out. Her hand goes to cover his for a second.
Then she sets her breakfast down on the coffee table. She narrows her eyes. “Did you forget something? Come back to ransack the kitchen cupboards?”
I reach into my jacket and fish my grandmother’s ring out of my pocket. It’s gold, with a sapphire and three diamonds. I hold it out to Fiona in my palm.
