“Being a vampire, like you wanted me to be,” I said, with a bloodstained smile.
“Fuck. This is no good.” Vlad paced the room and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up as he appeared to weigh his options. “We can’t just murder the people we don’t like if we want to fit in here. You know that.”
“I don’t care. I don’t belong here,” I said defiantly. “And Wayne is a horrible human being. You were right about everything, Vlad.”
Ignoring the city inspector sprawled on the floor, Vlad shut his eyes. I could see the compliment wash over him like a calm ocean wave. “That was nice at least. Say it again, Tiffenie.”
“You were right, Vlad. I admit it.” I narrowed my gaze. “You’re not getting turned on, are you? We are not Bonnie and Clyde.”
He smiled.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment for three hundred years, for you to accept who we are. But this”—he gestured to Wayne—“this isn’t you.”
Wayne was still groggy and blissed out from the pleasure of the bite.
Heaven wiped his neck with a damp towel and pressed a clean one to the wound. “Okay, so we’re not killing him,” she said. “Love that, but what are we going to do with him?”
Vlad squared his shoulders and helped Wayne to his feet. “I’ve got this.”
“Thank you,” I said, unsure of how to feel. I didn’t want Vlad to clean up another of my messes, but I needed him. Heaven needed him.
As if he were giving Wayne a tour of the house, Vlad took him by the elbow and started walking him around. “You’ll notice the cabinets are original.”
Wayne blinked at the old cabinets as he bled down his button-down shirt. I hadn’t taken so much blood as to cause him permanent harm, but he definitely seemed lightheaded.
Vlad walked him all the way out front to the police car. The cop was sitting in the driver’s seat with the engine idling and the windshield wipers keeping the falling snow at bay. He was looking at his phone, completely oblivious. He’d probably been playing Candy Crush or whatever while I’d been trying to murder Mr. Jarvis. To live in that man’s simple shoes for one day…
The cop looked up from his phone, his expression shifting from vacant to “uh-oh.” At the sight of Wayne, his hand went to his gun. Cheetos crumbs showered from his chest to his lap. “What the—what’s going on here?”
Vlad smiled. “Good evening, officer. We’re just walking Wayne out to the car.” He was in full glamour mode, all of his intensity focused on the cop and Wayne. “Nothing bit Wayne,” he said. “He must have cut himself shaving earlier. He needs to be more careful.”
If this kept happening, we were going to have to come up with some new excuses.
“Duuuude,” the cop said.
Wayne dabbed at the wound with the towel.
“You should never shave with a dull razor,” Vlad said.
“What about the house?” I asked, confirming what I already knew.
“This structure is officially condemned by the City of Valentine,” Wayne said, holding the towel to his neck. “You need to vacate the premises immediately. Destruction of the property will occur as soon as possible.”
As the car pulled away, Vlad said, “We can appeal it.”
Heaven elbowed him. “Tell him to uncondemn the house.”
Alas, you can only convince a human of one lie at a time. Those were the rules.
Wayne and the cop took a left out of the driveway and headed back into town. Imminent disaster was averted yet again, but a storm was rolling in. Up until now, the snow had looked like movie-set fluff, the kind made for building snowmen and making snow angels. Now the howling winds turned each flake into a little knife.
“Are you okay?” Vlad asked. We’d only been outside for a minute, but his hair and shoulders were covered in snowflakes.
“Thanks for glamouring Wayne,” I said. “I just need a little time.” Maybe five minutes. Maybe a month. My confusion, anger, dashed hopes, gratitude—all my feelings were tangled like Christmas lights in November.
Vlad and Heaven nodded and headed inside, leaving me alone with my feelings. It was just me and the plastic statue of Santa staring into the distance with an unrealistically jolly expression. That smile suddenly pissed me off. What did he have to be so happy about? He was an ancient, stored-in-the-basement Santa, his coat faded to pink from the sun. With a guttural scream, I bear-hugged the plastic lawn ornament, intending to drop-kick him to the moon, but he was fused to a sleigh, which was tethered to reindeer. I was strong, but this was an awkward package. Idropped him back to earth and kicked him while he was on the ground.
Emotionally exhausted, I flopped onto the snow next to Santa, the two of us collapsed like fighters too tired to finish what they’d started.
