Accidental Sire(42)

"It's nice to meet you."

"You, too. So, how do you feel about expensive imported bloods?"

"Is that some sort of line? Is this your attempt to improve on your ‘approach'?"

Ben grinned. "No, but I just happened to see a bottle hidden in the back of the fridge with a great big gold bow on it, which probably means it was an expensive gift from a visiting vampire dignitary."


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"And it's probably poisoned," I noted. "There is no such thing as a free bottle of gourmet blood . . . and that is officially the weirdest sentence that has ever left my mouth."

"Nah, I talked to one of the security guards at work, the ones who keep us from leaving the building like regular people? And he says that all of Jane's and Dick's gifts have to be scanned for poisons and contaminants before they're delivered. After what happened to Gigi, they have a whole poison-scan policy."

"What happened to Gigi?" I asked.

"I'll tell you when we crack open that very expensive-looking bottle of blood."

"Is this some sort of attempt to get me into trouble?" I asked. "Cat-butt face revenge?"

"No, I just don't want Jane to feel like her job is too easy. We have to cause her a little trouble."

"Fine." I sighed. "But you're taking the rap for this, Golden Child."

"Don't call me that, and I will accept full bottle-cracking responsibility."

I never did get to hear what happened to Gigi. We'd just managed to pull aside the foil labeled "House of Rothschilde, Rh phenotype, 1968" and pop the cork when the kitchen door opened. Jane and Gabriel walked in, carrying shopping bags. They did that weird parent thing where they're smiling and talking and then they see what you're doing and that happy noise slowly dies off. When it's not your parents doing it, it's sort of hilarious.

"Is that the bottle of Rothschilde we were saving for our anniversary?" Gabriel asked.

"He did it," I said, pointing at Ben, who was nodding.

"I did it."

True to form, instead of laying down some serious sire discipline on Ben, Jane just rolled her eyes. "Pour everybody a glass, you reprobates. Consider it pregaming. We're expecting company."

"Company?" I asked, eyeing the bags, some of which were carryout from a restaurant called Southern Comforts.

"It's girls' night. Or, as Iris and Gigi refer to it, Tommy Night, in which they make Bloody Tom Collinses and then we watch something with Tom Hiddleston or Tom Hardy."

"Oh, good, Gigi is coming," I said, sipping the glass of blood Gabriel had handed me. It was dense and dark, with earthy hints of mushroom. I made a face and set the glass down. I was clearly not mature enough to appreciate vintage bloods. "I think I should maybe just go upstairs and finish my homework. Due diligence and all that. I've got a lot of reading to get done for my Econ class." 

"You're working three weeks ahead, and you've read everything on the assigned reading list for the semester," Ben said, wincing when I kicked him in the shin. "Ouch!"

"I'm very proud of your dedication to your studies," Jane told me. "But I think we've let you get a little too isolated during your probation period. You need to get used to being out in the world again. Working in the office is a good start. But you have to get used to less rigid social situations, too. Jolene is coming. And Nola, Dick's granddaughter, so it's good aversion-therapy training. And I want you to meet Libby, our most recently turned vampire adoptee. I really think you two will get along."

"Fine." I sighed as Jane handed me several bottles of dessert blood and nodded toward the living room.

"And what will I be doing while you girls are ogling men named Tom?" Ben asked. "Because I do not think that's the sort of training I need."

"We are going to Dick's to play cards," Gabriel said. "Nik and Jed want to play poker. We need a fifth."

Ben nodded while doing this weird lip-pursing thing. "Oh, good . . . Nik's going to be there. Wait, I thought you and Dick stopped talking for almost a hundred years because of a bad hand of cards," he said.

"We play for bottle caps now," Gabriel said. "It makes things less hostile."

Jane grimaced. "Does it?"



When we had girls' nights back at the dorm, it involved a bag of Skinny Pop and Netflix. Jane and Company made more of an effort. Jane provided fancy bloods for the vampires and serious carbs from Southern Comforts for Jolene and Nola. (Seeing ooey-gooey bacon mac and cheese only to smell rancid cabbage when I opened the container was a form of emotional torture, I swear.) Jane put out special little napkins and sprayed Febreze around. She risked exposure to disgusting human food smells to arrange the snacks on pretty trays. This wasn't an impromptu dorm-room hangout. This was Jane putting herself out to make sure her friends felt comfortable and welcome in her home. This was a grown-up gathering.