Page 5 of Twice Bitten

A trusted family friend helped manage the talisman these days. I’d asked her about taking over the duty myself, but Marinka had clicked her tongue, rolled her eyes, and shook her head. “You don’t have the right blood.” Whatever the hell that meant.

Mom’s friend didn’t like me. I suspected she barely tolerated me, but she did the job quickly and quietly, sending me away with a grunt to make an appointment in six months. If something happened to Marinka, there was no other plan, which was why, in my spare time, I’d been researching talismans like mine to try to understand how it worked and why Mom was so adamant it stayed there.

An hour before my shift ended, theIdentifycharm over the door flared crimson, shaking me out of my maudlin thoughts. I stiffened and turned to do up the top two buttons of my shirt, concealing most of my throat and the edges of my neck. Only a few vampires were indiscriminate killers, and those who were got put down quickly by their Prime, but most witches werewary of all vamps, good or bad, and covering up made me feel a little safer.

When the charm turned that color, nothing good was about to walk in.

TWO

Addy’s charm could flash all the colors of the rainbow and then some, but the basic rule was the bigger the danger, the brighter the color. A few types of creatures triggered the bright crimson hue, but with the peace conference going on, the likely culprit was vampires. Unlike the tales where the creatures could only drink blood, vampires in town happened to beverycaffeinated, simply by virtue of the dozens of coffee shops dotting the city. All vamps required blood for their continued existence, but they could eat and drink, and many preferred doing so in public, just like any human, to appear more harmless than they really were. Having some of the best restaurants in the state didn’t hurt either.

Most preferred to continue eating and drinking the same way they had before they’d been turned. A few clung to the older, more traditional vampire ways and only came out at night to hunt. Animal hunting—legal and heavily regulated—took the edge off a vampire’s ingrained instinct to stalk and conquer, but sometimes they didn’t stop at taking down an animal. While a rare occurrence, occasionally a vamp would take their hunt to the city streets. Those were the ones you had to worry about.

Everyone in town had heard the tale of a vampire so powerful he could shift into any bloodsucking animal while on the hunt. Since the only bloodsuckers in the animal kingdom I knew of were mosquitos, bats, and leeches, I’d never been too impressed by that rumor.

Those tales had only grown in dramatic impact since I was a child, until the legendary vampire could turn into smoke and slide under any door, mesmerize any human he wanted to, and seduce you with his epic smolder. At first, those stories were terrifying, but now they’d morphed into a tale worthy of any fanfiction. Yes, he was terrifying, but he could turn you into a quivering mess in the sack, so what was a little terror if he found your G-spot on the first try?

If the legendary vampire ever wanted to hurt you, you wouldn’t stand a chance. But our city didn’t have a problem with missing people, no more than any other small city, so I didn’t put too much stock into those rumors. If he wanted to scream “BAT”and explode into a hundred flying rats, more power to him.

I made myself far too uninteresting for anyone to hunt me. It wouldn’t stop a hellbent vamp on attacking me if I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but keeping my head down and my mouth shut went a long way toward keeping me safe.

Still, most vampires creeped me out, and I didn’t like it when they came into the shop.

Once I’d rechecked my buttons were secured, I pasted a polite smile on my face.

A single vampire strolled in, the sight strange enough to send alarm bells clanging in my head. Vampires almost always traveled together. If you saw one alone, you could be sure more would follow almost immediately. I took a step to the right and peered over the vamp’s shoulder, looking for his companions.

Not a single person—vampire, witch, or human—walked in behind him.

Fingers of dread walked down my spine. I examined the lone vampire closely, the situation getting worse by the second. Whoever this was, he appeared youngish.

Youngbeing a relative term. Vamps took a long time to learn to control their urges, sometimes dozens of years. Most of the time you could spot the younger ones a mile away and not by their physical features. The aging process stopped at the moment the toxin in a vampire’s bite hit a human’s bloodstream, so the way they looked was no longer a good indicator of age.

Maturity came into play when trying to peg a young vamp’s age. Imagine a gaggle of male, human teenagers getting inside a bar using fake IDs and buying their first round of illegal shots. That was how newly turned and younger vamps acted. No cares in the world, only the knowledge of more power than they ever dreamed of and an immortal life to enjoy it with.

His clothing was modern and obviously designer, based on the small bat logo on his chest and the stylized redSon the side of his loafers. He hadn’t yet adopted the usual classic, quiet luxury wardrobe most older vamps had. No labels. No logos. Nothing to tell you they’d dropped a grand on a pullover.

This vamp was dressed like he’d chosen the exact outfit a model had worn on the runway, and that was an indicator of youth—he had money and wanted everyone to know it. I couldn’t tell you who the designer was or where he’d bought the clothes because I purchased almost all of mine at the thrift store—nearly every single penny I earned, I put right into my high-yield savings account or reinvested in my business—but I could recognize expensive when I saw it.

He was tall, blond, and wore a brooding expression, one that turned into a smolder once he spotted me. His eyes lit with avarice, flicking once to my covered-up neck. Disappointment flared when all he saw was the scratchy gray cotton of my Three Little Beans polo. He had a pretty face, as most vampires did. Glacial blue eyes, high cheekbones, straight nose, and poutylips. His cologne was light but fresh, fingernails neatly trimmed, though I knew those bad boys could grow triple the length if he wanted them to.

The vamp leaned on the counter, too close into my personal space, and inhaled deeply. “Mmm.” He licked his lips. “Dirt.”

Tension grew in the air, the other patrons now watching the vamp carefully. The regulars would step in if the vamp went for me, but he was too close. I’d be a goner by the time someone fired off a spell.

No one in the place laughed. The joke was lame, one I’d heard a million times. Hedgewitches smelled like dirt. Har har.

My boss didn’t like vampires either, but she couldn’t refuse service to one branch of supernatural without getting into trouble with the Council, so she didn’t mind when I got a little mouthy with them. For the most part, I had great restraint, but I couldn’t stand twerps like this.

I leaned forward. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Mmm,” I said and licked my lips. “Graves.”

I regretted the words as soon as I said them. I should have just shut up and absorbed the joke. No harm, no foul, right?

The vamp’s eyes narrowed, a thin thread of crimson rolling over his iris. He didn’t like people knowing they were animated corpses, did he? I straightened and decided to be the bigger person. No need to rile him up. If he was only here for a latte, he’d be out in a matter of minutes.

I pasted a smile on my face and got my shit together. “Welcome to Three Little Beans. Can I take your order?”