Page 33 of Little Fangs

Misty had turned her attention to the bag, sniffing around it. I didn’t know if it was because it smelled like me, or because Muriel was still working on behalf of my brothers to bring something to destroy me with. I didn’t want to believe the latter. And she was human.

“Let’s go inside,” I said. “I don’t want anyone seeing you like this out here.”

“You’ve always been kind to me, Master.”

“I’m not your—” It made my entire face twitch, like something sour in my system. “Don’t call me that. My name is Micah.”

“Of course, Mas—Micah,” she said, pulling her shaky hands from the dirt. A worm dangled from one finger until she shook it free. “I promise I tried to get as many of your things as possible. I hope it’s enough for you to trust me. Please.”

Muriel had been around so long, she’d seen a lot, and yet something had been the line, and they’d crossed it. Part of me wanted to take my things and send her back out, but the much larger piece of me wanted clean her off and hear her story. Perhaps she’d have an insight into how I could stay here and force them out of town.

Misty didn’t protest Muriel entering the house, which I took as a good sign. I brought the bag in, my heart racing from what she said was inside. To be reconnected with everything meant Harlan didn’t have to put himself in harm’s way for me.

In the center of the living room, I didn’t waste a single second before opening the duffle. My teddies, all of them, poured right out, alongside a couple of onesies, and a blanket with torn holes at the corners from where I’d stuck my thumbs through to drag it along behind me.

“You—you really did this for me?” I asked, falling onto my knees like a cat would throw themselves into catnip. “It’s all my things.”

“The way they treated you after Ludmila left was despicable,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t know if they were going to kill you, or what—what they were going to do, but I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I don’t know how to thank you for all of this,” I said. Some of them were so threadbare, their stuffing was coming out. I tried to be careful around them, but Misty wasn’t. The first contact her paw made with one of them, she pulled an arm off.

“I can fix it,” Muriel said immediately. “It’s really nothing. Ludmila had rules, she respected life, but those men, they—” She shook her head, bowing her chin to her chest. “They’re animals. Rabid. They’ve dug three graves in the past week alone. I tried reaching out to Ludmila, but she hasn’t said anything.”

My chest ached to know they’d become this way. The Council didn’t allow killing in safety zones. And Ludmila hadn’t allowed killing. Just catch and release. The one time that didn’t happen, there were meetings amongst the vampire Council. The rule of the land was strict, and that vampire was sent to some hole in the ground—I think. “Well, did you speak to her?”

“I spoke to Betts,” she said. “Betts told me she’d left them to their own devices. Of course, I knew that, but she’s still your creator. She’s still supposed to help. Right?” She broke down in tears, and so did I, right by her side, both of us sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Do you want some tea?”

As tea brewed in a large pot, we sat in the kitchen together and talked about what else had happened since I was kicked out. Apparently, I’d become enemy number one after taking their bracelets, and no witch around was willing to help them create new ones.

She poured the brewed tea into cups for both of us, almost second nature to her. I tried to take the handle from her, but she refused. “I need to prove I’m still useful,” she let out. “I’m glad you’re okay, here, in this place. I’ve seen Mr. Cartwright in town. He’s a nice man.”

“He’s the best,” I said. “I should actually tell him you’re here.”

“I—I noticed his car outside the manor gates yesterday,” she said. “It’s—it’s how I knew you might be here. They talked about it, but they were underground when you passed by, and nobody else saw.”

I nodded, getting out of the chair to fetch the two-way radio. “Even if they do come, Harlan installed UV lights to hurt them, and since they don’t have their bracelets, that’s going to hurt a lot.”

She chuckled. “Good idea. I thought about it. Driving a stake through them. But I’m too old now, and there’s three of them, they’d tear me limb from limb before I could ever get the job done. And—I tried to call the Council on them, but they laughed. I’m just—I was just a lowly familiar.”

I’d known about them killing people, but I kept it to myself, like a dirty secret. They’d taken me, maybe across borders, so I wasn’t alone in the manor and I could watch them do it. But now they were lazy, put in power by the Council and believing rules didn’t apply to them. But they did.

With the two-way radio in hand, I called out to Harlan. He was going to be ecstatic about the good news. I had my things now, and that meant I could—leave.

Muriel continued to talk about the awful things they’d done, but her voice became distant. My mind raced as no response came, and at the idea of leaving Harlan after discovering the way he made me feel.

I called out again on the radio.

Nothing.

“Harlan, come in,” I said. “Wait. Do I have to say over?”

Static played.

“Over?” I grumbled again, letting out a shallow breath and glancing at Muriel who picked up on the tension creasing my forehead and eyes.

Ten minutes passed.