5) What are your current social media handles?
That last question was a trick question. Social media was against the rules. And my sexual partners were none of the parliament’s business. I mean, sure, I hadn’t gotten any in the last year. But the parliament didn’t need to know that, and neither did Vlad.
Me:how did they find me?
Vlad:Did you buy those Blackest Blackout Shades? Parliament is tracking purchases.
Fuck. The shades that had promised “graveyard lighting.” The box had saidFor vampires! on the side. I had thought it was cheeky.
Me:okay, creepy
Vlad:It would be easier if you followed the rules.
Sure, but I didn’t want to follow the rules. The Dark Gift this, the Dark Gift that. Serve the devil. Everything’s a secret. I wasn’t going to livein one of the parliament covens with establishment vamps. The accommodations would be nice, but no twenty-first-century woman could live within the confines of the Vampire Code. The code wasn’t just Byzantine in nature. It was a product the Byzantine era.
I pushed open the door to my apartment, the new owner of a bed-and-breakfast no one wanted, covered in blood, and arguing with my ex about the same stuff that broke us up more than a century ago.
I twisted the plastic thingie on my bent venetian blinds to block the coming daylight and flipped on a lamp.
“Oh, shit!” I exclaimed, and nearly jumped out of my skin at the sight of Heaven, the twenty-six-year-old life coach who lived next door. She was passed out on my couch in pajamas and a silk bonnet. Sure, she had a key to feed Cat occasionally, but I hadn’t asked her to stop by. She needed to leave so I could collapse dramatically on the couch and brood about my second-rate inheritance.
As Heaven stirred and rubbed her eyes, Cat padded toward me and did a figure eight between my ankles, reminding me I owed her a bowl of morning kibble. “Do you love me for anything besides food, beast?”
“Oh, hey, Tiff.” Heaven was not a woman who existed in the liminal spaces between night and day. She was an awake-at-dawn-and-chasing-rainbows kind of person. With pink and yellow braids that hung all the way down her back and a Technicolor wardrobe that made my eyes hurt, Heaven was not an appropriate companion for the undead. Tonight, the woman was wearing a Funshine Bear shirt. What more needs to be said?
She looked up to reveal a puffy, tear-streaked face and bloodshot eyes. Salt trails ran down her soft brown cheeks. Her voice quivered with restrained emotion. “I didn’t want to be alone but forgot you were at work…”
“What’s going on?” I said in a move-along-little-puppy tone. “You should probably be getting up for the day, right?”
“Gemma, she—she—she broke up with me!” Her voice broke and her chin wobbled as she held back tears.
“Oh.” Gemma was very loud. Good riddance.
“What’s up with you?” Heaven wiped a tear away.
“It was a weird night.” I sighed dramatically. “I found out I inherited an inn.”
“Then why don’t you look happier?”
“It’s a teardown in—” I still hadn’t caught my breath (metaphorically speaking) from my hopes soaring and then crashing to earth at the sight of the first picture. “It’s in Vermont,” I said tragically. The blood in Vermont probably tasted like pancakes.
For a second, she seemed to forget her sadness. She gave me a discerning look. “I’m not sure Vermont’s for you anyway.”
“What makes you say that?” My voice rose defensively. “I love Hallmark movies.” Vermont, Hallmark—same difference.
She shrugged like her observation needed no explanation, before being overcome by tears again. “We were gonna make dijon chicken and watch some TV before she…” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I thought we were good. And then outta nowhere we’re going at it about HelloFresh.”
I groaned, reliving my own HelloFresh drama from earlier.
“The app said it arrived, but it must’ve gotten porch pirated,” she said. “Who would do that?”
My brain screeched to a halt. Damn it. Had I even checked the name on that box? It had arrived with the Parliament of the Undead census.
