Page 37 of You’re So Vein

I swallow. “Sure, Beth. I’ll find a way to fix it. I always do.”

“Hooray! You’re the best.” She gives me another tight squeeze, then pulls a crumpled piece of bright pink paper from the pocket of her harem pants and smooths it out. “On to much happier things. Your dad wants me, as official campaign manager, to arrange everything for his little launch party at your house this weekend—”

I groan.

Beth frowns at me. “Obviously, I would have offered to host it, but an evil vampire burned down my pole studio. Your parents’ house is neutral ground. Gideon and Arabella are inviting key Sanctus members, including the Conclave representatives, so you can meet them in advance of the Sanctus soiree. Lilac will run the bar to make sure everyone has something they can drink. Your dad is excited to do the catering—”

“Don’t let him overexert himself.” Panic surges through me. Papa only just got out of the hospital. He’s under strict orders not to set foot in his shop, but he’s not very good at sitting at home when there are parathas to be cooked and customers to joke around with.

“He begged me to let him help. You know how hard it is to say no when an Ahuja wants to help with something.”

I do know.

It’s fine. It’s all going to be fine. I’ll spend every spare moment tomorrow cleaning the house, and I’ll get Preeti to take the boys out for the night, and brief the aunties on appropriate conversation topics around important foreign dignitaries, and somehow find time to go to the salon and get my rats’ nest hair done. Oh, and make sure the vampires are on their best behaviour and that they don’t bite any of my family. Easy. It’ll all be fine.

“I’ve arranged for the local TV station to capture the whole event,” Maisie says.

“Wait? What?”

Okay, things are not fine.

I think of the toys everywhere, all the kids underfoot, my mother waving property brochures, my father chasing down guests and force feeding them parathas until they admit he’s the best cook in Argleton, Isis giving tarot readings and everyone yelling at me to fix things while the cameras roll.

“I don’t think a TV crew is the best idea,” I mumble. “Photographs we can stage, but it’s going to be too chaotic for—”

“That’s exactly what we want! The public should see you in your natural environment. It will make for excellent TV. We might even be able to use the footage for some social media. Augustin isn’t doing anything online, so we can hit the younger voters there. I had a beer with Harry, the camera operator, and he tells me that Augustin refuses to do any publicity from his own home. He doesn’t even know where Augustin lives.”

“He lives in one of the little cottages in the woods,” Celeste says. “I’ve seen him through a window once when I was wolfing out.”

“Speak of the devil, what’s going on with Augustin?” Maisie asks, her gaze focused on the window behind me.

I glance around. The window looks out onto Butcher Street. Augustin stands under a streetlamp, with a stack of books under his arm, arguing with the shadows.

“Crack the window,” I hiss. Maisie lifts the catch and slowly pushes the window open. We all lean closer, straining to hear. A girl’s voice, young and upset, pierces the night.

“—never let me do anything. You promised!”

“I know what I promised, but it’s too risky.” Augustin’s voice cracks with weariness. “The bookshop is full of vampires. If something goes wrong, we won’t be able to cover it up like last time. I got all the books you wanted. Perhaps we just go home and—”

“I don’t want to go home! I’m stuck at home all day. I wanted to visit a shop! Why can’t I do what I want on my own birthday!”

“I want that, too, more than anything.” Augustin’s voice is low, anguished. My heart hammers against my chest. We shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Whoever he’s talking to, she means the world to him. “But you know we can’t—sssh, someone’s coming.”

Augustin dives into the shadows just as a large group of vampires emerge from the bookshop and wander past the window. By the time the street is empty again, Augustin and whoever he’s with are gone.

I slide back onto the sofa, guilt gnawing at me. The other members of the Nevermore Coven exchange a look.

“I wonder what he meant by ‘it’s too risky’?” Mina says. “There’s nothing dangerous about my shop, unless you quote Poe at Quoth. Do you think he’s referring to us?”

“Could he have been talking to the husker?” Beth asks.

“I don’t think that was the husker. It sounded like a child,” says Dora.

“He must be watching her for a friend, or maybe he has a stepdaughter with a human partner,” Maisie says.

“He doesn’t have a partner,” I say. “Or a stepdaughter. We’d know about it.”

I’d know about it.