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Last One: The Soul of a Vampire
Last One: The Soul of a Vampire
Last One: The Soul of a Vampire
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Last One: The Soul of a Vampire

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All Nico wanted was to save his sister...

When Nico sees his sister dead on the living room floor, he isn't thinking anything except that he can't handle losing anybody else. He begs Rafe to turn her.

Like all vampires, Rafe's a liar. A murderer. A monster. But he loves her as much as Nico does.

But Nico didn't think about what it would mean for Ennis... how it would change her. How it would change everything...

From USA Today bestselling author A. M. Yates, the complete Soul of a Vampire series in one boxed set.

This book contains violence, strong language, and vampires who have to kill to survive.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherA.M. Yates
Release dateAug 18, 2018
ISBN9781943746163
Last One: The Soul of a Vampire
Author

A.M. Yates

a.m. yates collects pieces of souls. She meets with dead Russian writers in bamboo forests to discuss the color of the sunlight in the water. She seeks exceptions and similarities over generalities and differences. She feeds almost every stray the muse drops at her door and adopts out only the most demanding few. She suffers from two terrible addictions, both involving words. She has a life story, but it isn’t finished yet.

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    Last One - A.M. Yates

    Light My Soul

    1: My Sister’s Death

    My sister is a vampire and it’s my fault.

    When I saw Ennis dead on the living room floor, I wasn’t thinking anything except that I couldn’t lose anybody else. In hindsight, it was selfish. I didn’t think about what it would mean for her, how she would change.

    I begged Rafe to turn her, to save her.

    And he told me, flat out, I can turn her, but I won’t be saving her.

    I should’ve appreciated his honesty at that moment, because like all vampires he’s a master manipulator and a murderer.

    But he hadn’t killed Ennis. Some other vamp had done that. It was Rafe’s fault, though. He’d been checking up on us for the last seven years—in other words, stalking Ennis. We’d moved out of his territory and onto another vamp’s turf a long time ago. But he couldn’t stay away. Vampire love is kind of (sorry, for the pun) forever. And he’d led the other vamp right to us.

    I’d only learned vampires were real the night before when Rafe had shown up to warn Ennis that the local bloodsucker knew about us. Ennis had freaked out on him, threatening to kill him if he came anywhere near us again. We should’ve listened to him. We should’ve left town. But we didn’t. And the next night, we were attacked.

    I came into the living room to find the local beast of a vamp with his beefy hands wrapped around Ennis’ neck, throttling her. When he saw me, he dropped her without a second glance. But before I could run or wet myself, he was being tossed through the patio doors, crashing into the backyard. Then Rafe was tearing the umbrella from the table and driving the pole through the vamp’s chest. Slowly, he’d crumbled into a pile of dust. Just like the movies.

    But changing a mortal into an immortal isn’t like the movies—the ones that have the sire giving the victim a taste of his vampire blood and, presto-chango, new vamp.

    A person drained by a vamp does need blood to be turned, but not vampire blood.

    Finally giving into my pleas, Rafe held out his hand. Nico, give me your arm.

    I hesitated.

    Do you want this or not? Rafe said through his vampire teeth. The only things that changed about him were the fangs and his eyes. They were blue, but a bleached hue, the irises almost white.

    I thrust out my arm. His hand curled around my wrist, all the way around. I gritted my teeth and tried to act tough. His hand wasn’t cold, his grip wasn’t a vice, but it was firm.

    This won’t hurt, he said.

    I don’t care, I lied. Just bring her back.

    It happened so fast. One second he was looking at me with his freaky washed-out eyes, and the next, his mouth was on my wrist.

    He was right. It didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt good. As a fourteen-year-old boy, I was accustomed to awkwardness. But I was unprepared for how embarrassing it was to enjoy having my blood drained. Just as I grew light-headed, he shoved me away, onto the couch. I slumped there, clutching my wrist to my chest and trying to catch my breath.

    Blood gurgled in his throat, my blood. It’ll heal.

    He gathered Ennis closer, turning his face away. Then he gave her what looked like a deep kiss. Blood trickled down her jaw and onto her favorite silk blouse. And I thought how pissed she would be about the stain. I wasn’t thinking very clearly.

    When he pulled back, he wiped the blood off her cheek with his thumb. A tint of red smeared her lips like she’d been eating strawberries.

    Rafe closed his eyes. When he turned back to me, they were their usual preternatural blue.

    How’s your wrist?

    Blood trickled down my forearm, but there weren’t any bite marks.

    He didn’t wait for me to answer. Eat something. Take a shower. Lie down.

    I can’t eat, I said. I’m not going to be able to sleep.

    Try, he said, weary. And have a cookie or something. Haven’t you ever donated blood?

    I’m too young, I snapped.

    He looked at me appraisingly. I suppose you are.

    He stood, lifting Ennis as he did. She draped over his arms, as lifeless as ever. He started down the hall, toward her bedroom.

    But… I trailed after him. Did it work?

    If it did, he said, you don’t want to be there when she wakes up.

    Yes, I—

    No, he said, you don’t.

    He shut the bedroom door. A moment later, the lock clicked.

    Vampires are liars, but sometimes they tell the truth.

    2: My Sister the Vampire

    The leftover slice of chocolate cheesecake in the fridge belonged to Ennis, but I guessed that she wouldn’t want it either way.

    I sat in the kitchen for a long time, hoping one of them would come out of her bedroom. But after an hour or two, when neither reappeared, I took a shower. As I scrubbed away the blood on my arm, the white bar of soap turned pink. No marks were left, not even a scar.

    In my room, I flopped onto the bed and that’s when it hit me. I wept. My chest, my throat, my eyes burned.

    I prayed, maybe for the first time in my life. I prayed that my sister would become a vampire.

    Messed up, huh?

    scene break

    A thump or a grunt, a sound outside the insulating darkness of sleep, woke me. I hadn’t dreamt. That was fine by me. My dreams were too often nightmares anyway, but at least they left me with some sense of having slept. When I woke, I had a moment of disorientation. Had I fallen asleep? What time was it?

    Then I heard it again. A thump. Like someone in heavy boots stomping against the wood floors.

    I crept down the hall to Ennis’s bedroom. It wasn’t dawn yet, but a lamp had been left on in the living room, providing enough illumination that my eyes didn’t require much time to adjust.

    In my socks, I didn’t make a sound. Or I didn’t think I did. I stopped outside her bedroom. Tacky sweat collected between my shoulder blades. My stomach felt cold and hard. My hands rose to touch the door.

    Before my fingertips met the wood, something slammed against the other side.

    I jumped back, my heart in my throat.

    The door banged again, rattling in its hinges.

    Go back to your room, Nico, Rafe called. He was calm, but stern.

    The door shook again and again. The picture frames in the hall shimmied and tilted. The floor shuddered.

    I backed up until I hit the wall. The door absorbed each blow. How many more it could stand before it cracked and splintered?

    Go! Rafe shouted. But he sounded in control. Right then, it was a thought I needed to have. Someone was in control.

    I slid along the wall and ducked back into my room. I fell onto the bed. I left the door open.

    The light through the blinds grew stronger. Dawn arrived. Then it was after dawn.

    I flinched when I looked up to find Rafe at the threshold.

    I stood, not knowing what to say.

    Maybe he didn’t know what to say either, because he turned. I followed. He paused outside Ennis’s door, his hand on the knob, his gaze combing over me. My hands clenched as he scrutinized me.

    He opened the door and led me inside.

    The room was very dark.

    Ennis hated light when she slept. She had blackout shades and insulated curtains over those. The bright morning light from the living room windows spilled down the hall but barely touched the darkness in her room. Still, I could make her out, a dark figure lying on the bed. I took a couple of steps and then stopped.

    It didn’t look like she was breathing.

    He pulled the chain on the lamp next to her bed. Yellow-tinged light fell over her face and my breath caught.

    Rafe watched me as he knelt beside her.

    Her hair, which had always been brown with a tendency to turn ruddy in the summer, was now red. Her pillowcase was cream-hued and against it, her hair looked like a slick of fresh blood (guess I had blood on my mind).

    He ran his hand down her cheek and turned her head toward me. The change in her features was subtle. I couldn’t pinpoint it right away. It was like she’d been subjected to one of those stupid TV makeovers. New haircut and makeup, and all her friends and family are dumbstruck. Except my sister had always been beautiful. I knew it, even if she didn’t. A few of my friends were annoying enough to point it out.

    But now my beautiful sister was (puns abound) drop-dead gorgeous. Her face was the same, mostly. But the softness of those few extra pounds had vanished from her cheeks. Her skin was smoother. Her lips, fuller. She appeared to be wearing makeup, but I knew she wasn’t. She never did.

    Rafe studied me. And it irked me because he looked like he was expecting a reaction, but I didn’t know what it was and I didn’t like the feeling gnawing at my insides—anxiety. What had I done?

    She looks dead, I said.

    "She is dead," he said smoothly.

    But—

    You need to understand what your sister is now. She’s a thief, a murderer—

    Indignant heat rushed to my cheeks. She hasn’t killed anybody.

    Not yet, he said, matter-of-fact, but she will. She has to because this body can’t produce blood, all it can do is steal it. To keep her soul in this non-living body, she’ll have to kill living humans.

    Can’t she just—

    No, he said, "she can’t. Whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re hoping, it’s been tried. It’s failed. She will have to kill people, Nico."

    I bit back my words and choked on them.

    What was I going to do, argue with him? I was a scrawny fourteen-year-old mortal and he was a vampire. A part of me didn’t believe him though, Ennis didn’t kill people. There would be a way, some other way Rafe hadn’t thought of… there had to be.

    He stood and came around the bed.

    I stepped back.

    How come you’re not asleep or whatever? The light doesn’t bother you? I asked.

    Sunlight doesn’t kill us, but our skin is different, he explained. It’ll burn quickly. It takes time to build up a tolerance.

    Like a vamp tan?

    Something like that, he said, amused. I have to take her away from here, away from you.

    What? Why? For how long?

    Not long, he said. A week or two. She needs to… You won’t want to see her until she’s adjusted.

    Until she’s killed somebody, right?

    Nicolas—

    Just don’t treat me like a kid, I said. Tell me the truth.

    He smiled sadly. Vampires have considerable difficulty with the truth.

    What the hell does that mean? It was the first time I’d deliberately sworn in conversation with an adult, except he wasn’t really an adult, he wasn’t even human. And that’s when it occurred to me that my sister wasn’t really human either. But I didn’t understand what that meant, not really—not yet.

    You’ve been lying to me? You’re going to lie? I asked.

    He cocked his head like he was considering which question to answer first, or maybe which lie to tell.

    I’m telling you the truth, he said carefully, because that’s what your sister would want.

    But you’d rather lie?

    It’s in a vampire’s nature to say and do whatever he perceives will work to his advantage. Most of the time lying soothes humans, and vampires prefer that humans are docile.

    So, it’s easier to kill them? I meant for the question to come out vicious, but it ended up sounding resigned. I was too tired and freaked-out.

    He nodded.

    I ran my hand through my hair, and for a second, I thought that I might let the sanity switch flip—just go crazy. It’d be easier. But that rational guy in me was too busy trying to reorder my new reality, and if I tried to turn the lights out, he’d light up some candles and get back to work. I wasn’t going to lose it. Not at the moment anyhow. I had to figure this out.

    I glanced over at Ennis.

    That’s why she looks like that now, I said, to attract humans, to make them easier to kill.

    He didn’t respond. Bending over, he tugged the leg of his jeans up, fishing a sizeable roll of cash from his boot. He tossed the wad, held together in a silver (no, platinum) clip, to me. It fell into my hands, though I’d barely gotten them up. He took a key fob from his pocket and tossed it at me too.

    Can you drive a manual? he asked.

    I’m fourteen, I reminded him.

    He raised his eyebrow.

    I sighed. The Toyota’s a manual. Ennis let me drive it a couple times when no one was around.

    Go get my car, he said. "The blue one parked on the corner of Franklin and Johnson. Pull it into the garage.

    3: Home Alone. Again, Movies Lie

    First I moved Ennis’s rusty Toyota out of the garage and onto the street.

    Then I went to find Rafe’s car.

    The blue one. Sure. A brand-new Audi. It only sold for forty thousand more than our house. Luckily, I had a friend whose mom drove a less expensive model, so I knew how to start the thing. But I was sure I was leaving a sweaty-ass stain on the leather. Before six a.m., the neighborhood was quiet and nobody was out to accuse me of grand theft auto or driving without a license. I couldn’t believe Rafe had left it parked on the street. The new-car smell was in full force when I opened the door. The stereo was silent when the engine started. I didn’t see a single smudgy fingerprint on the dash or dusty footprint on the mats. It was like it had never been touched.

    Three blocks and two turns should’ve taken a minute, but ended up taking twenty. I inched the car forward, never shifting out of first gear.

    The garage connected to the kitchen, and as soon as I closed the garage door, Rafe emerged, carrying Ennis, who was wrapped head-to-toe in blankets—like a dead body.

    Open the back door, he ordered.

    I did and he laid Ennis on the back seat.

    You’re leaving already? I asked, unable to hide the anxiousness from my voice.

    I have to get her away from here, he said. The first thing she’ll want to do is come home.

    So?

    So, you have a white soul, Nico.

    What does that mean?

    He closed the door and leaned against the car, crossing his arms. He looked like the stereotypical cool guy—tall, good-looking, fit. In the movies, he would’ve been the douche that the protagonist was trying to steal the hot girl away from. The guy who was inexplicably successful and got laid all the time yet was a total prick. Which begged the question, how did he get so popular in the first place if he was such a jerk? But that’s what happens in movies. Rafe wasn’t a chode. He was an admitted killer and liar, but other than that…

    That’s how a vampire chooses his victim. His tone was caustic as if speaking the truth made him irritable. Most humans have gray souls. But yours is white, exceptionally so. The lighter the soul, the more appealing.

    So… my blood tastes better than somebody with a gray soul?

    Vampires don’t drink blood for the flavor. They drink it to keep their souls. Blood contains that which anchors a soul in a body: life, Nico. Blood is life. No life in a body, no soul.

    So, what does the color of my soul have to do with it?

    Not color, shade. On a grayscale, dark to light and all the grays in-between, he said. Human souls slide back and forth, growing lighter and darker. It’s rare for a person to have a completely black or white soul. The vast majority fluctuate—

    You mean, if you do a good thing, your soul gets lighter? I tried to remember the last really good thing I’d done. I’d told Jake Peppers to shut up after he’d called some freshman girl a fat cow. That had earned me bonus points with the girl I liked, Jess, anyway.

    Not at all, he said. There’s no sense to why souls get lighter and darker. At least, none any vampire has yet to discern. And believe me, we’ve spent lifetimes searching for the key. There are truly malevolent people, sociopaths, serial-killers, who have dark souls, but some of the worst criminals ever caught are no darker than anyone else. And look at you, what have you done that would warrant your soul’s spotlessness? But what’s most unusual about you isn’t that your soul is white, but that it hardly ever changes.

    As he spoke his gaze grew unfocused, his expression even less readable. Maybe it was my imagination, it reminded me of how someone on a diet looks when they talk about chocolate.

    What does the shade of my soul have to do with vampires? I asked.

    Vampires are trying to keep their souls.

    I shrugged. Okay…

    And they do that by drinking blood.

    Yeah…?

    A living soul, he said, one in a living body, changes shades naturally. But a vampire’s soul can’t change shade. At least, not until they have blood in their body.

    Your soul changes, I said, depending on what shade your victim’s soul is?

    It’s more complicated than that because there’s a delay.

    A delay?

    I could kill you, right now, he said, far too nonchalantly, and drink your blood, but maybe, if I hadn’t, your soul would’ve grown darker in an hour, for no reason that anyone can tell. Then, instead, of my soul lightening, it would darken, because that’s what your soul was going to do. That’s why vampires watch people. They follow them for years sometimes, because their souls have patterns. They’re just not always what you expect. Take your next-door neighbors, Mike and Sue.

    My eyes narrowed. Had Rafe been stalking my neighbors too?

    Mike’s soul lightens, he went on, sometimes at 7:30 a.m. on Tuesdays. And Sue’s soul darkens, almost always, twenty to thirty minutes after she gets home from her Monday/Wednesday spinning class. Almost. Not always. That’s why it’s difficult for a vampire to control the shade of his soul, and why it’s important to pick and choose. It’s too easy to get darker and darker if you’re not assiduous.

    What does it matter? I asked. I thought the color of a soul has nothing do with a person’s being good or bad.

    "A living person, he said. But vampires are not alive. You don’t want to meet a vampire whose soul is too dark. Out instincts are too predatory. Our agendas are already too different from the living. The shade of a vampire’s soul does affect his behavior, his mind, his emotions. Our souls don’t move. Your soul is like a river, fluid, filtering, absorbing, draining. Our souls are stagnant. We’re ox-bows, bends in a river that have been cut off. Only when it rains or the river floods, do we have an opportunity to feel as if we’re moving again—to feel human again. The effect of darkness on a vampire’s soul can lead to bad things, very bad things."

    Worse than being murderers? I snarked.

    Much worse, he said flatly. Do you remember when I bit you? It didn’t hurt, did it?

    I shrank, my ears growing hot.

    He smiled a little as if he knew the source of my embarrassment.

    It could hurt, Nicolas. It could be made to hurt, he said. And despite the fact that, yes, I am a killer, a murderer, I do care. I have a soul. I feel. I empathize. The lighter my soul, the more human I seem; the more human I feel. The darker, the less I see you as a human and the more I see you as prey. And the darker beyond that, the less I see you as prey and the more I see you as an ant. Have you ever spent an afternoon stepping on ants, destroying their hill, crushing them under your thumb? Fun, right?

    My guts twisted. I swore to be kinder to all life, even cockroaches, which made my skin crawl.

    When I first met you, he said, your soul was so white, it was blinding. And it’s consistently white. Except…

    What? I prompted.

    He shrugged. Your soul hasn’t always been so white, just…

    His hand moved up to his chin so quickly I didn’t see it happen. So, I flinched when I noticed his thumb stroking his jaw as he mused.

    But usually, it is, he murmured.

    Great, I said. I’m a guaranteed vampire soul-bleacher, is that it?

    Which is why you’re always attracting trouble, he said, though he only seemed half-aware that he was speaking.

    Always?

    Either he didn’t hear me or he was ignoring me.

    Hey. What do you mean, always?

    Supernatural blue eyes refocused on me.

    Ennis never told you…

    Never told me what?

    He pushed off the car.

    As soon as she’s able, I’ll have her call work, he said. If anyone contacts you, tell them she has the stomach flu and take a message. Don’t tell anyone that you’re home alone and try to act as normal as possible. I’ll call someone and arrange to have that patio door fixed, but clean up the glass.

    Hold up, I said. What didn’t Ennis tell me?

    He took my cell out of his pocket and held it out to me. I’d left it charging in my room.

    I put my number in, he said. It shouldn’t take long for Ennis to mark the boundaries and claim this territory. You shouldn’t have to worry about any other—

    Tell me. I was shaking, though I didn’t know why. Tell me the truth.

    He opened the driver’s side door and gave me a long look.

    You can ask your sister when she comes back.

    It’s my parents, I blurted out before I’d thought the words through. Were my parents killed by a vampire?

    He bowed his head. His voice fell to a whisper. Call me, for anything, okay?

    He slid into the car and left.

    But his non-answer was answer enough. My parents had been killed when I was five. They’d never caught the murder. Now I knew why. Because it had been a vampire.

    scene break

    The stomach flu story went over well enough with my friends and my friends’ parents, who were the only ones interested in Ennis’ absence. Three days in, my Spanish teacher, Señor Thompson, asked if anything was wrong. I played it off that I’d been up late, because of my sister’s sickness. He seemed to buy the story. I found it disturbing how easily people accepted what I told them. It made me think of what Rafe had said, about lies soothing humans.

    But the truth was, I had been up late. I could hardly sleep. I was paranoid. And I started baking.

    Rafe’s money clip had over three grand in it, all hundreds.

    I took the whole wad with me on my first trip to the grocery store, earning a look from the cashier that made me worry she was going to call the cops.

    I bought peanut butter chocolate chip cookies in the package because the supply Ennis made every week was gone and I didn’t know how to function without them. But the store-bought ones weren’t the same. They tasted metallic. The next day after school, I picked up the brand in a tube. They were even worse, like eating raw sugar, and they didn’t have the right kind of chocolate. That night, I sat alone at the kitchen table with a plate of crappy cookies before me, fighting tears. The day after, I went without. Then Saturday, the sixth day Ennis was gone, I dug out her recipe box and made the cookies myself. They turned out not quite as good as when she made them, but closer.

    Jess sent a message suggesting that she might be at the skate park if I was going to be there, but I didn’t respond.

    Instead, I ate cookies and marathoned a show about an obsessive-compulsive detective. I fell asleep on the couch, a few feet from where my sister had been strangled to death. I guessed her soul hadn’t been light enough to warrant being drained. Rafe must have been telling the truth about the soul thing, because if being a good person made a soul lighter, then Ennis would’ve had the whitest soul out there. She was a way better person than me, way better than most people. She worked as a public defender. She always came to my soccer matches. She always made sure there were plenty of peanut butter chocolate-chunk cookies—she never forgot.

    Just before dawn, my phone rang.

    I sat up as I answered. Ennis?

    Silence.

    I fumbled for the remote. I hit mute.

    Nicolas, she breathed.

    I choked up. Her voice was careful, deliberate… different.

    Are you…? I was about to say okay, but it seemed stupid.

    She was a vampire and I was going to ask if she was okay?

    Nicolas, are you alright?

    Yeah, yeah. I wiped at the tears.

    Good, she said.

    Her voice was smokier, more melodic. I hated it because I knew it was a part of the vampire. I just needed a sign that something of the old Ennis had survived. I wasn’t ready to accept the possibility that I’d doomed my sister to being nothing but a murderous monster for all eternity.

    When are you coming home? I asked.

    Soon, she said. I miss you, Nico.

    I miss you too. My throat tightened. I’m sorry. It’s my fault, isn’t it?

    Fault?

    Your death, I said, barely able to speak. Your being… what you are now.

    You have nothing to apologize for, she said.

    I didn’t believe her, not for a second, and it made me angry. That and the other nagging thought that had been percolating in my mind. My reordering of the world couldn’t continue until I had the answer.

    And what about Dad? Was that my fault?

    Dad?

    And Mom, I said. They never found out who did it, but you knew, didn’t you? Rafe knows.

    Her tone sharpened. What did he tell you?

    Nothing, I said. Except my soul is vampire bait. One killed you… and one killed Mom and Dad, didn’t it?

    You listen to me, she said. "The death of your mom and our dad was completely out of your control. It was out of my control. There was absolutely nothing either of us could’ve done to prevent what happened. Do you understand me?"

    I nodded. I wanted to believe her, mainly because she sounded like her old self. More than anything, I wanted her back.

    Nicolas, do you understand?

    Yeah, I choked out, forgetting that she couldn’t see me nodding.

    Good, she said, sounding tired as if asserting her old self had been exhausting. Maybe it was. I was starting to get queasy. As much as I wanted Ennis to come home, I finally had to ask myself what I was going to get back. And I was forced to admit that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be Ennis—at least, not the old Ennis.

    Are you going to school? she asked.

    Of course, I said.

    And doing your homework? she asked.

    Yeah, I said.

    How was soccer practice?

    Fine.

    What are you eating?

    Food, I said, my teenage self reemerging to fend off the barrage of mundane questions.

    Do you have enough money?

    Well, I have three grand in cash, but I was planning on blowing it all on drugs and prostitutes.

    Another silence. I felt bad that my attitude had shown up when she was trying to make sure I was okay.

    I’ll see you soon, she said. I love you.

    I love you too, I said.

    The line went dead.

    4: You Can’t Go Home Again

    I bought a hunting knife off this creepy junior who always wore a black duster that stank like horse shit. I wasn’t expecting another vampire attack, but… it made me feel like I had some control.

    Three weeks passed before Ennis returned. I wondered what she had told her office, what had happened to all her cases. But then, with the high-stress levels of public defenders, it might not have been weird for people to abruptly check out.

    When I got home from school on Friday, the house was quiet as usual.

    I tossed my bag onto the table and turned to the fridge and there she was, standing where the kitchen tile met the living room hardwood.

    I leapt back. My heart thrashed in my chest.

    Ennis was still, but her eyes tracked me. They were green. They’d been hazel before, more brownish. Now they were vivid, emerald. Even in jeans and a white T-shirt, she was stunning. She looked taller, fitter, like a supermodel.

    All I cared about was that her eyes looked alive, even if they were a different color. I was relieved there was light in them, movement. And then I got stuck on the fact that she was watching me so intensely, like Sylvester watches Tweety. The knife was in my bedroom, under my pillow.

    Where’s Rafe? I asked.

    It wasn’t what I’d expected to say. I’d thought there might be some hugging and maybe tears, but at the moment, I wasn’t interested in getting any closer to this creature who sort of resembled my sister.

    She moved to the table, tentatively, as if it took concentration for her to remember how to take two steps. Pulling out a chair, she lowered herself into it.

    Rafe, she said his name like it hurt, couldn’t come. He has his own territory.

    I held onto the back of another chair, vaguely thinking I could whip it at her if it came to that.

    Why don’t you sit down? she said, again in that careful way, like English wasn’t her first language. We need to talk about things…

    I swallowed hard and tried to play it cool.

    Like… about you needing to kill people now?

    She gave me look that reminded me of the way Rafe looked at me as if they were both wondering how much of the truth I could handle.

    Yes, for one, she said tightly.

    I sat down and drummed my fingers on the table.

    Do you want to kill me? I asked when the silence had gone on too long and she hadn’t moved, not even blinked, for what seemed an eternity.

    She reached her hand across the table but didn’t touch me. "I’d never hurt you, Nico. I’ll never let anyone hurt you."

    Reassured by the fierce conviction in her voice, I relaxed.

    But you will kill people, I said glumly.

    She pulled her hand back and looked as if she was debating on how to answer.

    Don’t lie, I said. Rafe—

    She winced like I’d hit her.

    —says that vampires lie, I pressed on. They tell people whatever they have to so they can get what they want.

    Ennis lifted her chin in a stubborn way. "Is that what Rafe says?"

    I waited.

    He’s right, she said, I think.

    Her impassive façade crumbled then and she picked at her cuticles, just like she always had. I teared up but kept it together.

    I haven’t been like this long, she said. But I think you’re right. I wanted to lie to you just now. I didn’t want you to be afraid of me.

    Just tell the truth, I said, though I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to hear it.

    You’re right. Her tone darkened. "I won’t be like him. Not with you, not with anyone, if I can help it… I’m not sure I can help it, but I’ll try. You’ll help me, won’t you?"

    How?

    Remind me. Don’t let me forget.

    Forget what?

    She pressed her hand to her chest. That this is a human soul.

    Do you really have to…—I had to face facts. After all, I was the reason she was like this—kill people?

    She gazed at me sadly. Yes.

    I nodded, tapping my fingers harder against the table.

    Did you and Rafe have a fight or something? I asked, just to give myself a moment away from the my-sister-the-blood-sucking-murderer thought.

    Her face hardened and it was frightening.

    He’s not welcome here, she said coldly. He never was.

    Is it because he told me about Mom and Dad?

    "What did he tell you?"

    He told me that I have a white soul, I said.

    Her eyes narrowed as if she’d caught me in a lie.

    Can you see it? I asked.

    Yes, she said softly.

    What does it look like?

    It’s… beautiful, she said.

    Does it make you hungry?

    She gave me that I’m-about-to-set-you-straight-young-man look that was so Ennis. Fresh tears threatened to fall. I held them at bay. But my misery got through and set up camp, a bleak army with heavy boots trampling upon my chest.

    I’m sorry, I said. I’m sorry I did this to you.

    She was up and at my side before I could remember to be afraid. She hugged me and stroked my hair and smelled so good. I felt safe. She could’ve killed me right then and I would’ve died feeling comforted. Her touch wasn’t cold either, and that, more than anything, made me bawl. I cried like a lost little kid who’d been found. And it was at that moment that I decided, no matter what she had to do, I wouldn’t think of her as a monster.

    At some point, she got me a tissue, a glass of water, and a plate of cookies.

    You made these? She turned the cookie over, sniffed it, and took a small bite. They’re good.

    You can eat? I said through my own mouthful of cookie.

    She smiled fully.

    Geez, no wonder Rafe had stalked her for seven years.

    I had vague recollections of the time, seven years before, when Ennis had been eighteen and had dated Rafe. I don’t think she’d known he was a vampire when she started seeing him. Around that same time, my parents were murdered and I was kidnapped. I remembered the woman who’d taken me. I remembered that Rafe had helped Ennis get me back from that woman and that he’d fought the woman off while Ennis had freed me. After that, Rafe had morphed into something of a hero in my mind.

    But after he’d rescued me from, what I realized now was another vampire, he’d disappeared. Except he’d been around the whole time, watching us, watching Ennis.

    I was a little disappointed that he hadn’t returned with her and that Ennis seemed so angry at him. Sure, he was a smug pretty-boy. But he’d saved me, twice. I owed him some gratitude.

    She ate the whole cookie and straightened out her face into a more serious expression.

    We have to leave, she said.

    Huh?

    She looked at me grimly. We can’t stay here.

    What are you talking about?

    For one thing, she said, I don’t have a job anymore.

    Can’t you get another one?

    Not in this district. Too many people know me. Too many people would see how much I’ve changed.

    I was doing my best not to brat it up, but I was pissed. I didn’t want to leave my friends, my school, my soccer team.

    And,—she took a deep breath—he’ll come back.

    Who?

    She arched one of her perfect eyebrows at me.

    You mean, Rafe? I asked.

    Yes, she said. "Him."

    If you’re not into him, tell him to piss off.

    It’s not that simple. She folded her hands neatly on the table, the same way she had when she’d given me the sex talk. Which she’d done when I was ten. She’d had all these books and pamphlets. She’d tried to make it very clinical. But mostly it had been awkward.

    Once more, my selfish anger got the better of me. What’s wrong with him? You’re a vampire, he’s a vampire. He saved you, sort of. He saved me, twice.

    She studied me. You like him, she said as if I’d told her I was the blood-sucking murderer.

    My ears started to burn again. What? No.

    I mean, she said, you like having him around.

    I shrugged. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I just don’t get why you’re upset at him… And then a thought came to me. Is it because he couldn’t save you for real?

    Her face was expressionless. I hated that she could hide her emotions so completely now; it wasn’t like her.

    And I don’t understand why you’re worried about him coming back, I said. He tried to warn us. You sent him away. You freaked out on him. Why didn’t you take us away when he warned us?

    I was going to, she said. But seeing him again… If I’d had another day or two, I might’ve been able to get my head together enough to get out of town.

    So, Rafe’s a jerk, or what? I said.

    He is what he is, she said. And it’s dangerous.

    More dangerous than what you are?

    She didn’t answer.

    I know it’s messed up, I said, that he was stalking you or whatever. But he helped us, I mean, before, he helped us.

    Her gaze fell to her hands.

    He helped get me back from the woman who kidnapped me, right? She was a vampire, wasn’t she?

    Yes, she said, so softly I barely heard her.

    He killed her, didn’t he?

    Her jaw flexed. Yes, he did.

    I get that you wouldn’t want to see him after that, I said. You know, being that he was… what he is. But you haven’t dated anybody since then, Ennis. Not even once.

    She continued to stare at her hands impassively.

    I ground my teeth.

    He cares about you, I said, feeling weird saying it.

    She looked back at me finally. You’re the only one that I’ve ever cared about. That hasn’t changed.

    You think he’ll hurt me?

    He’s a vampire, Nico. A murderer.

    If he wanted to hurt me, he could’ve done it when you were dead, I reasoned. He’s been stalking you for seven years, he knew where we were. He could’ve nabbed me at any time. Is that what you think? That he’s just after my white soul?

    It’s what he was after seven years ago.

    I felt like she’d smacked me.

    She was somber, watching me in that new intense way that sent a prickling shiver down my back.

    That was why he started dating me, she said, to get to you.

    Did he tell you that?

    "She told me," Ennis said, meaningfully.

    You mean the vampire who kidnapped me?

    He knew her, she said. That was how she found you, because of him.

    She could’ve been lying.

    She wasn’t lying.

    But—

    Forget about Rafe. He’s going to stay away from you, from both of us.

    Rational Guy was working at break-neck speed to deal with this information. Rafe, my would-be hero, had wanted to kill me.

    But if he’d wanted to kill me, I said, then why didn’t he? You were dead. He drank my blood to give it to you, to make you a vampire. He could’ve killed me then, taken all my blood for himself. He didn’t. He left me alive and saved you.

    Her brow knitted. I had to admit, it was good to out-maneuver my sister once in a while. Being a lawyer, she tended to win arguments.

    Maybe he wanted my soul seven years ago, I pressed, but that’s not what he wants now.

    Her brow smoothed and her voice turned harsh, the I’m-putting-my-foot-down tone.

    I’m sorry, Nico, she said, but we’re leaving.

    5: Cops and Vampire Mojo

    It sucked. I didn’t want to go, but I wasn’t given an option.

    In the month I had to prepare, I tried to bring a heavy check on my attitude. It wasn’t like Ennis wanted to be a vampire, to give up her house, her job, the few people she called friends. Then again, I couldn’t shake my irritation at her refusal to discuss Rafe. I don’t think it’s a healthy thing for a teenage boy to sit around brooding about his sister’s love life. But I had the feeling that our leaving had more to do with him than it did with Ennis’s new un-lifestyle. The more I thought about it, the more sympathy I felt for the guy. And I was keeping my fingers crossed that he would show before we made it out of town.

    Ennis spent the time getting the house ready to sell. She dyed her hair brown and went out on the cloudiest days to say goodbye. She spent a lot of time on the computer, on the phone, and with her files, which wasn’t anything unusual. But she’d go away, for days sometimes, in the middle of the week. I knew she had to, but I didn’t like to think about it. And I was doing a good job of it until the cops knocked on the door.

    Early evening, Saturday, I’d been at a soccer tournament all day and had just finished a shower. Only a week left of school and then we would leave. Ennis didn’t know where we would go yet, or she did and wasn’t telling me. Boxes piled up in the hallways. Flyers were posted all over town, advertising our furniture for sale.

    She was making dinner, pizza, homemade crust, and sauce. Lately, she’d gone out of her way to cook, to make sure I did my homework, to grill me about how my day went and how I was feeling. I wanted to have a good attitude, but she was making it incredibly difficult.

    I was on the couch, staring at the TV, not really watching when a hard, clipped knock on the door disrupted my zombie trance.

    Nico? Ennis called from the kitchen.

    I groaned in complaint and then hefted my limp body off the couch.

    I opened the door and stared, in a way that I can imagine looked pretty freaked out.

    Two state troopers stood on our stoop—shiny black shoes and tight crew cuts.

    Good evening. The taller one offered a restrained smile as if he wanted to reassure me. The other one glared like he was hoping I would shit my pants.

    I’m Officer Kaslowski and this is Officer Wojek, the tall one continued. Does an Ennis Murphy live at this residence?

    I took a step back, on the brink of panic, when Ennis appeared behind me, drying her hands on a dish towel. She put her hand on my shoulder and, suddenly, I was okay.

    I’m Ennis Murphy, she said pleasantly. Is there something wrong, officers?

    Kaslowski, the taller one, had gray in his blondish hair and deep lines on his face. Wojek was darker, shorter and stockier, closer in age to Ennis. Both were wearing wedding bands. And I watched them both get hard-ons as soon as she appeared. Not that I actually saw it, but I knew.

    Kaslowski cleared his throat. Wojek blushed.

    Nico, she said. Why don’t you set the table for dinner? She gave me a nudge toward the kitchen. Would you gentlemen like to come in?

    Of course, they wanted to come in. I slunk to the kitchen, head filled with all the dirty implications of the words come in.

    We have a few questions for you, Ms. Murphy, Kaslowski said, once the officers were seated in the living room. I could see them, as I moved plates from the cabinet to the table. The warm aromas of yeasty bread and melting cheese filled the air, but there was another, more powerful scent too, and it was coming from my sister.

    Concerning? she asked.

    We’re investigating a homicide, Wojek said, in a manner that showed how important he felt.

    Oh, no, Ennis said. Someone I know?

    Well, Kaslowski said, that’s what we’re trying to determine.

    Do you know a man by the name of Rick Tiebold?

    I held my breath, hoping she’d say no and that would be the end of it.

    Of course, I do, she said readily. I mean, I know of him. How could I not?

    Have you had any contact with him?

    Not that I can recall, she said. Are you telling me Rick Tiebold’s dead?

    I lingered next to the kitchen counter, just out of view.

    You work for the Public Defender’s Office? Kaslowski asked.

    Until recently, she said. I quit about a month ago.

    Why is that? Wojek asked.

    A number of reasons, she said. As I’m sure you gentlemen know, working for the state isn’t the most glamorous job.

    The officers chuckled.

    And are you working now? Kaslowski asked like he was chatting her up at a bar.

    I’m looking, but I have plenty of vacation time and there are still some cases I’m consulting on, she said. I hadn’t heard that Rick Tiebold was dead though. The DA is filing the paperwork for the retrial as we speak, isn’t he?

    That’s what we hear, Kaslowski said.

    I can’t believe it hasn’t hit the news yet, she said.

    No one realized he was missing, Kaslowski said. He’d been living on his mother’s property. She was in the hospital and when he hadn’t come to check on her, she contacted the police. I believe it was on this morning’s news.

    I must have missed it, she said. Guess I’ve gotten too used to living without an alarm clock.

    They all laughed. I grimaced, my stomach clenching. They weren’t buying her flirting, were they? It was all so transparent and contrived.

    And why is it that I get the pleasure of your company today? she asked.

    Well… Kaslowski sounded reluctant to change the tone of the conversation.

    A witness reported seeing a green Toyota parked off the road, not far from Tiebold’s property. He noted the license plate because he thought it was odd, Wojek said. The car being parked where it was and the fact he’d never seen it before.

    The license plate number he gave matched yours, Kaslowski said as if he was sorry to bring it up.

    Was this on Wednesday? she asked.

    Yes, ma’am, Wojek said.

    Well, yeah, I was hunting morels, she said. "I drove down to the state park and didn’t have any luck, so I followed the river and found a place to pull off. Those gravel roads are so narrow, and let me tell you, jackpot. I’m making morel pizza right now. It should be ready

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