Moonshifted(10)

My gaze went back to Gideon. If he were given a vial of Anna’s blood and she left the room, I wouldn’t bet on him managing to count to thirty before drinking its contents to acquire its power. I knew from taking care of daytimers at the hospital that all of their motives were nefarious by default. “What else does this entail?”

“Technically, when this is done you’ll belong to my court, as my Ambassador to the Sun.”

“I don’t suppose it pays?”

She snorted. “It’s only a ceremonial position, and only for one night.” She looked at me, her eyes softening. “I wouldn’t ask you if I had anyone else I could ask.”

I wondered how that made Gideon feel. I put the knife back into its bag very carefully, the bag into the box, and stared at its velvety softness. The man in my kitchen made a frustrated sound. He was hungry like all daytimers were hungry, for the power that their masters contained. Dogs on a leash, one and all.

“I know how you all fund yourselves. I won’t be a part of it.” Gambling, drugs, protection money—everything illicit trickled down into vampire pockets eventually. They were fat ticks on the neck of humanity. Anna’s seeming goodness aside, I couldn’t endorse that. I tried to hand the open box back to her, and she put up one hand to refuse it.

“Edie—you’re the only human I trust.” We’d both almost been killed recently, for the same end, by the same people. She’d rescued me then. It’d been more complicated than that, but—I looked from her to the box I held as she waited for me to decide. I wondered if she was holding her breath—if she even needed to breathe. She looked worried. Scared, even.

I couldn’t say no. Not even if I ought to. I set the box down on my own lap. “Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise you.” She smiled at me, then stood and straightened her skirt, bending down to retrieve her hair ribbon from the ground. Minnie’s disembodied paw swatted out after it from her hiding spot beneath the couch. Gideon rounded my bar, crowding us in my small living room.

“Do I need to do anything in the meantime?”

Anna shook her head. “I’ll send my driver for you at eleven that night. I’ll be in seclusion until then. Call Sike if you need anything.” Anna reached out and grabbed my hand. Her skin was soft and cool as she squeezed it. “Thank you, Edie.”

“You’re welcome.” I squeezed her hand back. Gideon wove through us to open up the door. They left, and Grandfather muttered something I was sure was unkind.

I’d just pledged my help to a teenage-looking but hundred-year-old vampire whom I knew had a temper and a half. There was no way this could end badly, right?





CHAPTER SIX





The next morning I woke up at eight. I got up, peed, brushed my teeth, and took an Ambien, because I had to work that night. I didn’t like drugging myself to flip my sleep schedule back and forth, but it was better than being bleary all night. Or lying in bed, trying to sleep, and not managing to get any. My bed was warm, Minnie was nearby, and I already had food in the fridge for dinner and late dinner.

It was Christmas Eve day, not that you would know from looking at my house. It wasn’t that I didn’t celebrate holidays—although when you’re working most of them, it’s hard to get into a celebratory mood—I’d just been busy recently. There was a small fake tree at the top of my closet that I could have pulled out—but I’d missed my window right after Thanksgiving, and I’d been busy every day since then, mostly just trying to survive.

As I lay there, I could feel the sleep I’d just woke up from coming back for me. It was like the Ambien was lifting up the sheep-gate. Then my phone rang. I fumbled for it in the dark. “Hello?”

“Edie!”

Only my mother could sound that happy to talk to me. “Hey Momma.”

“We’ve had a change of plans.”

“Uh-huh.” I nuzzled my head back into the pillow.

“I know you’ve had a bit of a rough time recently, so instead of you driving all the way out here on Christmas Day, Peter and I are going to drive in to your place.”

I blinked into my mattress, then bit the inside of my lip to rouse myself. “What?”

“We’re having Christmas in town. It’ll make life so much easier for you.”

“No, it won’t. I’m working tonight, Mom. I was going to drive out to your place after my shift—”

“But see, this way you only have to come home—”

“And cook, and—” I rolled over in bed, now fighting to stay alert. “Mom, I don’t even have a table.”