Page 9 of Little Fangs

“Can you catch?” he asked, waiting on my head nod before giving the shiny red apple an underarm throw.

I caught it. My senses were heightened. “It smells fresh,” I said, pressing it to my face and inhaling.

“Yes, I think it is,” he said, sitting back beside me, the sofa almost sloping in his direction as he now sat closer. “It’s a sweet red. I think it’s a Gala. I can’t be too sure, though. Bought it from the market in town.”

I took one bite into it, then pulled my teeth out to see the tiny fang marks, but before I could go in and bite again, he noticed them.

“You really don’t bite anyone?” he asked.

“Nope. Besides that, I’ve never felt comfortable with it,” I said. Of course, I’d bitten into people, the manor used to be full of people coming in, offering up their bodies to be bitten, but my bites hurt, and so I usually only bit where one of my brothers had been.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s a bit of a cruel joke your body played.”

I shrugged. “I’m used to it. I must be. It’s been—sixty or so years.” My mind thought back, figuring out how long I’d lived. My body’s age was in its twenties.

“Sixty years,” he let out, almost spitting out the chunk of apple in his mouth. “How old are you?”

A snort of laughter came out. I stared at the bite marks, then to him again. “Over eighty. Officially. But twenty, physically. And it’s honestly not as bad as you’d think, the whole ‘never growing old’ thing, seeing how the world has changed, and living through the changes. I—I used to journal, but my Master burned them. We weren’t allowed to make or leave records.”

“Master?” he asked.

I was letting out more than I should. I wanted to give my leg another punch. Another reminder that he was a human, and I was a vampire. Did he want me dead, so I wouldn’t try to kill him? I wanted—blood, but I was no threat to him. He knew I couldn’t bite.

Gulping hard, Harlan stroked the side of my arm with the back of his hand. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. It’s obvious you’ve lived through some horrors.”

“To put it mildly,” I whispered. “So, when a vampire is turned, the vampire whose blood is used is the Master. My Master was Ludmila.”

“Ludmila,” he said. “Surely I’d remember if she lived here.”

“Emilia,” I added before forcing myself to hush.

“Right. Emilia. The manor house on the hill. The one that’s gated. Vampires, of course.” He snickered, shaking his head and taking another bite of his apple. “Jeez. I always tell myself I’m in the know about this town.”

His heart was thumping. I tried not to listen, it felt like spying on him, but he was too close for me not to hear. “She left,” I told him. “Freed us from our servitude. That’s—that’s when they took over, really, and I was kinda just . . . on the outs. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but . . .” It felt like weights were being removed from my feet, the same feet currently pinned to the floor by Misty’s body stretched over them.

“You served her for sixty years?”

“Like fifty-something,” I said. “But it’s not what you think. It’s more of a debt, for turning you.”

“It was your choice?”

I stared at the apple, and the urge to jam it in my throat and stop speaking was strong. “You see, they were recruiting for the army, and they were trying to create stronger soldiers. Wait. Before that. My family found out I was—different anyway. So, they kicked me out. And I had nowhere. I had nothing. And I was never strong, so I volunteered. You know, to be part of the cause, be patriotic. To have purpose. Then I met Ludmila. She told me I was going to become something else, and I wanted it. I wanted to be anything else. And she said, I’d get everything I ever wanted because of it.” My lips trembled and tears slowly made their way down both my cheeks as I recalled the moment and how much I’d been excited, only to feel like a fool for what happened. My father forced me out of the house because I was gay, I’d searched for a new family, and the armed forces promised that—promised more than anything to turn me into a monster.

“Well, whatever happened then, you’re not there now,” he said. “That’s always something you can tell yourself. The person you are now has nothing to do with the person they made you feel like you had to become.”

I bit fully into the apple and hid the smile on my face. I’d never felt the heat rush to my cheeks like it did with him. It was nice, but something told me he was only being nice because he was scared. And that continued to be a stone in my stomach, with several fists punching me.

We continued to watch the TV until Harlan left to shower. He told me he’d wash the clothes I’d arrived in so I didn’t have to be stuck in the ones he gave me, but they were comfortable, and I could see myself using them to sleep in. Very different to the onesies I had, but kinda just as comfy.

With him out of the room, I let myself lay in the space he’d been sitting, my heightened sense of smell indulging in his natural scent that had gotten all over the sofa. It was a much more concentrated smell than it had been last night when I’d lain here under a blanket.

Misty came and sat on my chest while I was here, staring at me, and she tilted her head as if she had something to say.

“Do you like me?” I asked in a whisper.

She lay down, becoming a loaf on my chest.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said, stroking a hand down her back. “Why?”