I took it from him. “I’ll go see if I can help,” I said.
The door to their room was closed, so I knocked softly. Bobbie Jean opened it and peeked out.
“I thought I could try a healing spell for Opal Ann.”
“She’s sleeping,” she said. And then shut the door quietly in my face.
I knocked again. “Vaughn made her some eggs. And I think I can help her. Please let me try.”
Bobbie Jean opened the door and motioned me through. “Fine. But not too long,” she warned.
Opal Ann was sleeping on one of the queen-size beds but opened her eyes when I entered the room.
“I’ll be back in five,” Bobbie Jean said, then left.
Opal Ann seemed better after I managed to coax her into eating a few bites of the omelet Vaughn had made. He was a good cook. More than good—great, actually. He’d been helping at his dad’s catering company since he was big enough to hold a spatula.
I cast the same healing spell I’d cast for Skyler, but there was a strange resistance when I tried it with Opal Ann.
“Opal Ann, are you feeling better?”
She was already out again. I wasn’t sure if the spell had worked, but I couldn’t bear to wake her up. She needed the rest.
I tucked the covers in around her and left the room.
Vaughn was sitting in the common area, watching TV with Skyler. “How is she?”
“Better,” I said. “I tried a healing spell, but I’m not sure it did any good.”
“It helped me,” Skyler said. She hadn’t been talking to me very much, but I hadn’t had much to say to her, either.
“Tomorrow, we’ll be home, and Granny Mariotti will be able to help her.”
Skyler lifted her head and looked at me. “Let’s just have something to eat and then get some sleep. We’ll deal with everything in the morning.” She sounded incredibly weary. “It’s my mess. The least I can do is help clean it up.”
She was blaming herself instead of the vampires.
“Skyler, you didn’t ask for any of this,” I said. “You aren’t responsible. He is. They all are. It’ll be okay.”
She didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t look like she believed me.
“I’ll figure out how to fix this,” I said. “I promise. We’ll talk to Granny, and she’ll tell me how to undo the whole undead thing, and then everything will be back to normal.”
“That’s tomorrow. For tonight, let’s head to bed,” Vaughn suggested, giving me a warm grin.
“I thought I’d watch a little TV,” I said.
He came to sit next to me. “What’s wrong?”
“What if I lose control?” I finally said. “What if I bite you?”
What I couldn’t say aloud was, What if I turn into a monster who uses people for their blood?
“You’re not anything like Travis,” he said, seeming to read my mind.
He had a point.
It wasn’t like we could get down and dirty in a hotel room with a bunch of other people in it anyway, but he held me until I fell asleep. I could get used to this: Vaughn and me, safe and warm. Together.
…
I woke to the delicious smell of frying bacon and the even more delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee.
Vaughn was taking a pan of bacon out of the oven when I entered the kitchenette.
“Morning,” he said cheerfully. He poured me a cup of coffee. “How would you like it today? Bitter and black like Travis’s heart?”
“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
“You’re a grump in the morning,” he said. “You’ll feel better after you drink your coffee.”
I took a sip and then noticed he’d added cream and sugar. I smiled at him when I realized he did still know me.
“One sugar and a splash of cream,” he said. “You really didn’t think I remembered how you take your witch’s brew?”
“You’re in a good mood,” I observed.
His lips tipped up in the smile I only saw him give to me, then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close before he whispered, “Who wouldn’t be in a good mood with you as his girlfriend?”
I blushed, and Bobbie Jean let out a chuckle as she came into the kitchenette.
After breakfast, we packed up to head home. After a quick stop in Diablo to pick up the Deathtrap, we headed through L.A. In the middle of the usual traffic, we caught sight of Natasha, of all people. The #1BLEDR license plate was hard to miss.
“There’s Natasha,” I said. “I want to talk to her.” Natasha and I weren’t friends, but I had to try to make her understand that The Drainers were exploiting her.
Vaughn was driving, so I nudged him to follow her.
She was weaving as she drove, obviously upset about something. She pulled into a diner and went inside. Bobbie Jean had been following us in her car with Opal Ann and the others, and they met us in the parking lot.
“Anybody hungry?” Bobbie Jean asked. We grabbed a booth, and Vaughn stayed with the girls while I went to talk to Natasha. She was alone, which surprised me. No Bleeders or boys in the band in sight.
Natasha gave me that up-and-down look mean girls everywhere had perfected. I’d dealt with plenty of her kind before, but mean girls with fangs were a different story.
The head of the Bleeders wasn’t technically a vampire, but she hated me, and I wasn’t fond of her, either, especially when she eyed Vaughn like he was a delicious dessert instead of my boyfriend.
I made myself take a kind tone with her. “Natasha, I would like to discuss something with you, if you have a moment.”
Surprise flashed in her eyes, but she gestured to the chair across from her. I hadn’t really thought I’d have this conversation at a twenty-four-hour diner, but I’d take what I could get.
“Did you know I found a dead girl? Someone in the band drained her dry and just left her in a cave,” I said bluntly.
I watched her closely. Surprise, anger, and pain flashed across her face before her expression went blank.
“You’re lying,” she said. “Travis would never do something so horrible. None of the guys would.”
She laughed, but she sounded more like an irritated seagull than an amused girl.
“Wouldn’t he?” I asked softly.
“The Bleeders are all willing participants,” she said. “There’s a wait list to donate.”
“Some might be willing, but not everyone is,” I said. I studied her for a minute. “Do you know I’m a striga vie?”
“Travis told me,” she said.
“How do you think that happened?”
“You’re a witch, and then a misguided vampire bit you,” she replied.
“Without my consent,” I added. “And that ‘misguided vampire’ was Travis.”
Somehow, I had to stop him. Me, the girl who couldn’t even raise her voice in class, who hadn’t been able to tell Vaughn how I felt, who hadn’t been able to save Skyler before she got hurt.
“Come with me and help us defeat Travis,” I offered. And then quietly, “Please.”
As she seemed to consider my words, there was a sudden commotion when a group of women walked through the door. I glanced over and recognized them.
“Think about the offer, Natasha. Please,” I urged, then waved Granny over. God, it was good to see them. “Granny Mariotti, what are you doing here?” I beamed at her as she approached the table.
The rest of the Old Crones Book Club waved at us as they found a booth and quickly picked up menus. Probably to hide their shame. But I couldn’t be mad that they were checking up on me, because I was too happy to see them.
“We were on our way to the Getty when we saw the Deathtrap,” she said.
“You were going to the Getty this early in the morning?” Vaughn asked.
“And it’s in the other direction,” I said. At least I thought it was; my directional skills left something to be desired.
“Okay, she was worried about you,” Evelyn said.
“Tansy, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Granny asked, eyeing Natasha curiously.
“We’re not friends,” Natasha and I said at the same time.
“Introduce me to your acquaintance, then,” Granny said.
“Natasha is the leader of the Bleeders,” I said. “They let vampires use them for their blood.”
Natasha glared at me. “Harsh.”
“But true,” Granny said, taking note of Natasha’s healing bite marks.
Natasha hung her head, but Granny put a gentle hand under her chin and tilted it up. “Child, I have some lotion in my purse. It’ll help those marks heal. You want them to heal, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Natasha replied.
“And, Tansy, what do I always tell you?” Granny asked.
“Not to be all judgy,” I said.
Where Natasha was concerned, I wanted to judge her. But the look in Granny’s eyes made me ashamed of myself.
“Natasha, I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you,” I said.
Her mouth hung open. The apology had surprised her.
Granny put a hand on my hair. “Why don’t you join us when you’re finished?”
I nodded, then turned back to Natasha, careful not to phrase anything as a command. “I need your help,” I said. “I don’t want The Drainers to keep taking advantage of girls.”
She didn’t say anything, so I continued. “I know the Bleeders think that the girls who disappear get to become Sundowners, but I think when the band is tired of them, Travis ships them off to his father, who lets his friends feed off them until they’re almost dead. Not undead but lights out.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
I gestured to my traveling companions. “We rescued them from Jure’s ranch.”
“Travis invited me there once. He said it was like a resort.”
“I know you don’t like me,” I said to Natasha. “But I’m asking you, whatever you do, please don’t go there.”
She studied the group. “Is that your friend? The one you’ve been looking for?”
A wide smile escaped me. “Yes, that’s my best friend.”
“She talked about you sometimes,” she said. “When she was coherent, that is.”
“So?”
“So Travis knows a lot about you,” she warned. “Where you live. That your grandmother is a witch.”
“That’s good information to have.” I nodded once. “And could you please think over my offer? We could really use you on our team. It’s only a matter of time before he hurts you, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The car turned in to my familiar driveway, and for the first time in weeks, I felt safe.
We were home.
We piled out of the Deathtrap. It had broken down twice after our stop to eat, and I was sure Granny Mariotti had beaten us home from the diner. I stretched, my muscles aching. It was bright out, and I raised a hand to shade my eyes.
I caught Skyler looking at me. “I forgot my sunglasses,” I said.
“It’s not that sunny out today, Tansy,” she replied. “Are you sure you’re not…?” She made little fangs with her pointer fingers.
“Stop worrying,” I said. She bit her lip but didn’t say anything.
“Rose and Thorn say that I’m different than a regular vampire,” I added. “There have only been five striga vie before me. One of them could walk in full sun.”
“And the others?”
I didn’t answer her. I didn’t want to tell her about the striga vie I’d read about in Rose’s file—the one who’d gone full vamp and killed an entire city.
Bobbie Jean and Opal Ann pulled up behind us a few minutes later.
“Have you heard from Rose and Thorn?” I asked.
“They said they had to report back to the Paranormal Activities Committee,” Bobbie Jean replied. “I’m sure they’ll be in touch.”
Everyone but Skyler stared at their feet. “What are you waiting for?” I asked. “Let’s go inside. I’m sure Granny will know of a concoction to help.”
“Is she really a witch?” Opal Ann asked.
Skyler gave her a hug. “She’s not that kind of witch,” she assured her. “Granny M is the best.”
Best at lying, I thought, then scolded myself. No matter what, I knew my grandmother loved me. I hadn’t confronted her, but I also hadn’t forgotten how she’d lied about my mother’s death. And I wanted to know why.
…
“Granny, we’re home!” I hollered. She wasn’t in the kitchen or living room.
“I’m in the back,” she shouted.
Granny was on her knees, wearing gardening gloves and a big straw hat. The Southern California sun was no joke this time of year.
We brought Granny six shell-shocked girls and Bobbie Jean, who couldn’t stop fussing with her sister’s hair.
“Come inside,” Granny said. “I’ll make a pitcher of lemonade.” She grabbed several lemons from the tree and ushered everyone in.
She bustled around the kitchen, getting out a plate of cookies and the lemonade, plus water in chilled glasses. Granny Mariotti’s lemonade was the perfect mix of sweet and tart. The taste always made me think of home—of long summer days reading in the hammock in the backyard.
This summer was different. I gripped the glass tightly and wished for the time that an overdue library book was the most I had to worry about.
I told Granny our entire story, Vaughn chiming in with his own bits. Skyler stayed quiet, and I caught Granny shooting worried glances at her.
We had to figure out sleeping arrangements. Our tiny bungalow was too small to host everyone, at least long-term, but nobody wanted to leave, so we decided everyone would bunk down on the floor in sleeping bags.
I grabbed a few out of the storage container in the garage. Those sleeping bags had been stored there since the Old Crones Book Club’s Winter Solstice campout.
“Need some help?” Granny asked.
“I thought we had more sleeping bags,” I said.
“I’ll ask Edna,” Granny said. “There are some clothes you’ve outgrown in that bag. I’ve been meaning to donate them to Goodwill, but the girls seem like they’d appreciate a change.”
They were all still wearing the souvenir shop T-shirts—I was sure they’d appreciate a change.
Granny hugged me tight. “I’m so proud of you, my special girl.”
“I’m not special,” I replied. I was a killer, and if Granny knew, she wouldn’t be proud of me at all. Witches, at least Granny’s kind, believed in nonviolence, in harmony with nature.
I knew I’d have to tell her eventually, but I wasn’t quite ready for the look of disappointment I’d see.
Her eyes were sharp as she gazed at me. “Everyone is special to someone. But more importantly, you are brave. Most people would have looked the other way—pretended not to notice someone else’s pain.”
“Those girls are the brave ones,” I replied.
“It’s not an either/or kind of thing,” Granny said. “Those girls survived, and so did you. You helped one another do it.”
I looked away, scared to see condemnation in her eyes. Granny had taught me the peaceful way. And I had failed her.
In the morning, Evelyn would take two of the girls, who we found out were called Marisol and Kylie—no last names given—to stay at her house. Bobbie Jean and Opal Ann would stay a couple more days at our bungalow so Opal Ann could get her strength back before they headed home to Texas.
Skyler and Vaughn would stay with us, too—at least until Granny could figure out how to protect them.
Granny wasn’t in the mood to cook, but Edna made us some delicious roasted veggie tacos and fresh guacamole.
“Go easy on the garlic,” I said.
Edna said, “Those girls aren’t vampires.”
I didn’t look at Vaughn. I’d been thinking about kissing him when I said it. Nobody likes making out with garlic breath. “That’s not why I said light on the garlic.”
Granny and Edna laughed while I tried not to blush.
After dinner, Vaughn and I slipped outside.
I breathed in the familiar scent of fragrant orange and lemon trees, the sweetness of jasmine, and the fresh ocean breeze.
It soothed me. We sat in our backyard and just settled into the quiet. Until Vaughn’s phone let out a shrill chirp.
Vaughn looked down at his phone, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
He hesitated. “Ashley texted me a bunch of times.”
“Why?” My head was throbbing. The heat was suddenly oppressive, and I felt sticky from my own sweat.
“Because she’s used to getting her way.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything. But I thought a bunch of things. Mostly swear words.
“Tansy, don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I’m not interested in her. At. All.”
“Really?”
“I was as plain as a Taylor Swift song.”
I quirked an eyebrow.
“We are never ever getting back together,” he quoted.
I choked out a laugh. “An oldie but a goodie,” I said. “And I didn’t know you were a Swiftie.”
“You and Skyler listened to that album nonstop for an entire year,” he replied.
“That’s classic Taylor,” I replied.
Skyler came outside to join us, and for a second, it felt like none of the nightmares had really happened. Like we’d wake up tomorrow and worry about normal things.
But she had a fake smile plastered on her face. I hugged her. “I’m glad you’re back home.”
Skyler had been wearing the same perfume since she was eleven. Her mother had given it to her, an expensive special blend from Paris. The musky scent had been way too sophisticated for an eleven-year-old, but she loved it.
The Afterlife of the Party Page 21
