Page 8 of Little Fangs

Harlan found me under the table, rocking, eyes wide, staring ahead at the door of the oven and a partial reflection of the door into the hallway. If Caleb came in here, it would be over for me. Not because of what he’d do himself, but because of what Harry would do, or Elias—they were slimiest of the three.

Clutching Misty in one hand and the healed silver scar on my chest with the other, my mind went back—days, nights, weeks—it was impossible to tell sometimes. Harry had stuck a knife in me, between my ribs, calling me weak, telling me that Ludmila’s blood was wasted when I was created, a vampire who couldn’t even catch a kill.

“Hey, hey.” Harlan’s soft voice broke through my memories. On his knees, he barely fit under the side of the table with his chair completely pushed out. “It’s okay. I’m guessing he was looking for you? Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure that, but I’ve sent them off.”

“I can’t leave,” I muttered.

“And you can stay here as long as you need,” he said, rubbing a hand from my knee all the way down to the loose tube sock sliding around my ankle. “They can’t come in anyway. And you don’t have to tell me what happened. I won’t ask, but if you want to tell me, I’m here to listen.”

The problem with letting a human in on my life, was that it was giving away parts of me and trusting he wasn’t going to throw me out and rescind his invite. The town wouldn’t be the same again if I told them what happened at the manor.

“I’m also guessing you stole their bracelets,” he said, letting out a slight laugh. “He didn’t strike me as a particularly nice person—cold, almost.”

“I’m cold,” I told him.

“Physically, but you’ve got some warmth to you,” he said.

I turned to see his face, all easy and smiling as he continued to rub a hand down my leg. I pressed my head forward and kissed him before immediately pulling back and looking away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I get it.” He gave my leg one final rub before standing. “When you want to come out from under there, I’ll be in the living room. I’ll even let you pick what to watch on the TV.”

“You have satellite?” I asked.

“Okay, that’s got you interested.”

“I used to be able to binge TV, but not so much anymore.” My guard was slipping, I could feel it, like each breath was now becoming easier to take around him. My chest no longer felt burdened, or like I was living with the ache of keeping this huge secret.

“Well, let’s go find something to watch,” he said. “The curtains are closed, so nobody will be able to see you in there. And if TV doesn’t occupy you, I’ve got a ton of jigsaws we could do, or you could do alone.”

I bit into my cheek, trying to keep myself from looking like I was smiling too much. “I spent a lot of time alone already, so I kinda knew how to occupy myself, but those sounded like very exciting things to do. Can I—can I finish my food watching TV?”

Harlan had made me something delicious. Most of the solid food I ate at the manor was tough, raw meat from rodents, or the bits of chicken the others didn’t want to eat. I couldn’t be picky and ask for salt or pepper. I had to take it how it was, or face one of them threatening to beat me—or worse, tear my stuffies up and trash my room.

My mood shifted as thoughts went back to a time when I was comfortable at the manor, to being uniquely me, then being forced into a role that threatened to kill me, every single day before they kicked me out. It was like a pain in the chest, a heartache, like a loss undescribed in any of the picture books I’d read.

Even after sleeping on the sofa, I now didn’t find any real comfort in sitting on it. Harlan placed a cushion on my lap, then my plate of food. He did the same for himself, then handed me the TV remote, letting me put on whatever I wanted to watch.

“Let me know if it gets too warm for you,” he said. “I can take some logs out of the fire.”

“It’s perfect,” I told him, my eyes glued to the TV screen as I found an entire channel dedicated to adult animation. They were funny and crass, plus they were all drawn in a similar style that pleased my brain into feeling relaxed. “Do you mind if we watch this?”

“Anything you want,” he said. “You sound like you’ve had a rough go of it. You should let yourself do what makes you happy.”

If only it was that easy. I smiled widely at him, settling in to watch the show and finish my meal. I went from devouring half of it to savoring each bite, and running my tongue across my fangs, hoping that one day they’d get bigger—but it had been sixty-some years, so I doubted that would happen now.

We sat there for a while together in quiet, watching the episodes as they came on, one after the other. I was absorbed in it, almost forgetting where I was, when Harlan’s voice almost spooked me as he asked a question.

“Sorry?” I asked, turning to him.

“You want an apple?” he asked, getting up off the sofa, and leaving an indentation where he’d been—which slowly inflated back to size. “I don’t know if that’s something you eat.”

“I like apples,” I said with a big smile. “Red apples.”

“Well, I do have red ones,” he said. “You’re in luck.”

“My lucky day.” I turned sharply, recoiling after lingering over his lips for a moment too long. He hadn’t mentioned it, and I didn’t want to either, but it didn’t feel like he was repulsed by the kiss—maybe he liked it too?

As Harlan went into the kitchen, I screwed up my eyes until stars appeared, punishing myself for what I’d thought about Harlan’s lips. I was a vampire, and he was a human, of course he didn’t push back. People were scared to do anything against a vamp.