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Accidental Sire(32)

By:Molly Harper


"You must do a lot of shopping on Etsy," I said. I couldn't help but notice that the space behind the desk, the area that would be visible to the laptop's webcam, was blank wall space and a window covered with blackout curtains. Morgan and Keagan would be given no clues to where I was. And since they couldn't see out the blocked window, they couldn't even use the angle of the moon to triangulate my position, like they did on CSI. Not that Morgan and Keagan were that good at trigonometry, but I liked to think they could have pulled it off with help from the right Web site.

"I like to mix and match my fandoms." Clearly excited by my heretofore unknown enthusiasm for something, Jane opened her laptop with a flourish. The Skype logo appeared. The familiar dink-dank-donk sounded as the computer attempted a connection. Ophelia's pale, elfin face appeared on the screen, her features exaggerated by the very close company she was keeping with the camera.

"Ophelia!" I cried. "Sit back! You look like an old Busta Rhymes video."

Ophelia rolled her eyes but moved away from the webcam. "Better?"

"Yes! How are you? I miss you!"

Ophelia gave me a pleased little smile, but she didn't return the sentiment, because that wasn't her thing. "I'm fine, other than straining my upper-body strength trying to hold back your friends so I can talk to you first."


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In the background, I heard Keagan squeal. "She's so strong!"

"How are you adjusting?" Ophelia asked casually, as if she wasn't restraining my friends.

"I'm sort of in control of my thirst, and I can outrun Fitz now without embarrassing myself. I'm living with Georgie, and she completely terrifies me but in a fun way."

Ophelia's brows rose. "That is a lot of information. Well, I have some people here who are yanking my arms off so they can talk to you."

Ophelia stepped out of view so Morgan and Keagan could tumble in front of the camera like a couple of overeager puppies. Morgan yelped when Keagan knocked her aside. Keagan's rounded cheeks nearly covered her baby-doll blue eyes as she grinned, waving both hands.

"Meagan!" Keagan shrieked. "Are you OK? We were so worried!"

"Back away from the mic, Keagan, you're going to burst my eardrums," I said.

"Sorry," she said, moving away from the camera. "Are you OK?" she repeated.

"I'm OK," I told her. "It's not ideal, but it could be a lot worse."

"Where did you go?" Morgan asked.

I raised my eyebrows. I hadn't expected Ophelia to obey Jane's order that she keep my location a secret. I was even more surprised that a little part of me appreciated it. I doubted very much that the Council would react in a nice, nonviolent way if the girls came busting into Half-Moon Hollow on a rescue mission. Sure, Jane was in charge of the region, but she could only spin a headline like "Coeds Torch Council Building in Freak Taser Incident" so far.

"I can't tell you," I said as Jane shook her head from behind the laptop screen. "I'm sorry. It's all part of the agreement with the Council. I agree not to tell anyone where I am, they agree not to kill me in my sleep."

"What agreement with the Council?" Morgan demanded.

"Morgan, I know you're worried about me, but I don't want to waste our chat time going over questions I can't answer. All you need to know is that I'm OK. I'm safe. I'm adjusting to the whole vampire thing, and I'm trying to get back to campus as quick as I can. So what's been going on with you two? What's the campus gossip? What have I missed?"

"It's been pretty quiet, really," Keagan told me. "You know the drill. Now that everybody's stopped freaking out over the first couple of weeks, it's mostly frat parties, football games, and avoiding group projects." 

"You are now approaching an urban legend," Morgan told me. "There's a rumor that your turning didn't take and you are now haunting the second floor. If girls see your reflection in the mirror, it means they won't date again until they graduate."

"Why would I be haunting the second floor? I lived on the fourth. Also, ouch, my legend sounds super-mean."

"Urban legends are not known for accurate details," she said with a shrug. "But you might be included on the haunted-campus tour they do to frighten freshmen! That's exciting."

I groaned. "They're going to mash my story up with the ‘Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?' girl, aren't they?"

Morgan nodded. "Probably."