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Waking up was rough. I was still struggling to accomplish it as I stumbled down the stairs. My hair was in disarray and my cartoon pajama set made my torso almost on full display with only my breasts covered by the cartoon face of a starfish.
I paused on the bottom step as unknown voices came from the living room accompanied by my father’s laugh. I fixedmy outfit hurriedly on the stairs before making my presence known. Greeting me were two very out of place people standing in the living room.
The blonde female had a model-like figure which had me slightly envious, but her kind smile made it hard to stay upset. She had a nice curve to her frame that made me internally frown at my stick figure frame. Her clothes were the most out of place with brands that I was sure I’d only heard of through social media and city billboards.
Everyone here wore denim in some variation, usually tattered from farming or livestock handling. This one looked like she hadn’t handled a laborious job in her life.
The boy beside her seemed no older than a freshman with hair that seemed both neat and messy at the same time. It was weird to see a person with gold eyes, but they looked natural and too familiar to me. They were the same gold eyes I had seen yesterday when I tried to pay a visit to the new owners of Agatha’s home.
“Melinda, this is Isadora and Ambrose,” my father introduced as he rose from his recliner. “They moved into Agatha Oakland’s house. The one past the old maple tree on Seminole Drive.”
“I know the place, but I wasn’t aware the house had gone on the market yet.” My eyes never returned to my father’s, but instead studied the two before me. Something was different about them, something familiar, but something stranger to me. I sensed danger, more so from Ambrose than Isadora.
“Oh, we didn’t buy the property. Agatha was our grandmother,” Isadora answered with a pleasant smile. “When we heard about what happened to her, we rushed over here immediately.”
Grandmother. I racked my brain for any memory of Agatha mentioning these two, but none came to mind. To be fair, Agatha had hardly ever spoken of her past or family.
Were these two really her family?
As the words swirled in my head, something else emerged with them and it did not feel welcomed. I winced as I felt a sharp pain in my head that became accompanied by a dull pressure. It felt as if something was probing my head in such an invasive and blunt way that dots started to appear in my vision. What was happening?
My dad looked at me worriedly. “You okay?”
“Just a hunger headache," I lied smoothly as I offered a placated smile.
From the corner of my eyes, I noticed Isadora elbow Ambrose while whispering something to him. I took a mental note of it, my curiosity of them growing with each passing moment. These two were wrapped in mystery, but one that seemed too dangerous to investigate here.
The danger made my heart sing with enthusiasm. Mysteries were a weakness of mine and the day I found Agatha, my fate had unknowingly become tangled in this mess. So far, this was proving to almost be worth the trauma.
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The appearance of Agatha’s grandchildren hadn’t been a simple greeting of long-distance neighbors. The pair had become curious about Agatha’s apothecary that she owned in town. It was where I had taken up work when she opened, starting with greeting people or holding signs that then shifted to preparing orders and closing the store at the end of the day. Since this town was as safe as can be, no one really batted an eye when they noticed high schoolers working prior to age sixteen.
I never complained since I was finally helping my father with more than just yard work. Being a single parent, I knew it was a strain to care for me and the entire farm. He always managed to pass it off as easy, but I knew better.
Anything I could do to help him from becoming overly stressed, if within my power, I would make sure it was dealt with.
Chapter Four
Lucien
Last night’s mistakes thrummed in my brain, ricocheting pain like nails on a chalkboard. Pix Powder and bourbon didn’t mix well, but after the fight I had with Isadora I needed to blow off some steam.
Movement to my right stirred me awake, eyes opening slowly as gentle hands began exploring my body. I smirked, enjoying the sensation of her claws down my sternum. Lower they went until they clasped around my already hard cock. I didn’t lift into her as she pumped her hand up and down, but my body reacted in other ways.
Damn Unseelie could get a reaction from a rock.
“Why do you fight me so, Lucien?” The woman’s voice purred with influence, trying to crumble my resolve, but she knew I was beyond her influence. An advantage of my level of power. “I could make you a very happy vampire lord.”
There it was.
I pried her hand off me, no longer interested in the pleasure she promised. Even if my body fought against my head, it would lose after her statement.
“I’m not a vampire lord.” I didn’t mask the bitter disappointment in my words. “You Unseelie chase power more than you chase a body to mount.”
She flinched at my harshness, but it was necessary. I wouldn’t be seeing this one again and if I did, this would ensure she would never want to see me again.
