The Accidental Vampire
Chapter One
It was a high‐pitched scream that woke Elvi. Piercing and full of terror, it ripped her
from sleep and had her moving before she was quite awake. She started up abruptly
only to curse and drop back down when her head slammed into the wooden lid of the
coffin.
Groaning at the pain vibrating through her skull, Elvi closed her eyes against the stars
dancing before them and pressed a hand against her forehead. She'd really cracked
herself good and would have liked to clasp her head in both hands and roll around in
agony for a moment, but the casket wouldn't allow it.
And then a second terrified shriek reminded her of why she was awake.
She reached out with the hand not holding her head and gave the coffin lid a shove
that sent it flying open. She then had to release her head to get up. Climbing out of a
coffin was a two‐handed job, and ridiculously strenuous first thing in the morning.
Especially before her first bag of blood.
Elvi cursed her way out of the contraption, her bare feet slapping on the hardwood
floor as she hurried out of her room without even bothering to grab a robe to cover
the white cotton nightgown she wore. Another scream cut the air as she raced up the
hall. A fourth was being issued just as she burst into Mabel's room. Elvi slammed the
door open, uncaring that it crashed into the wall and probably left a lovely hole.
She spotted Mabel at once, standing on the bed in her robe, backed against the wall,
silver hair a chaotic mass around her head and eyes wide with panic. The woman was
waving a body brush wildly in the air at a bat that was swooping just as wildly around
the room near the ceiling. She was also, apparently, screeching every time the winged
animal came anywhere near her. Elvi watched as the bat swerved to avoid hitting the
far wall and swooped back toward Mabel, setting off another shriek.
Veering to the side to avoid the waving shower brush, the bat swept through the open
bathroom door and briefly out of sight. Elvi rushed over and slammed the door closed,
trapping it inside.
"Oh!" Mabel collapsed on the bed, hugging the shower brush to her chest. "Oh, thank
God."
Elvi propped her hands on her hips and scowled at her housemate. "You opened your
windows last night."
Mabel sighed at the accusation in her voice. "I had to open the windows. It was hot,
Elvi."
"I know it was hot, Mabel. I live here too."
"But your windows have screens on them. The ones in your bedroom, at least."
"I sleep in a coffin," she pointed out in dry tones. "There are no windows in a coffin.
Trust me, I know it was hot. But you can't open your windows until the replacement
screens are in."
"Well, when the hell are they going to put them in already?" Mabel asked impatiently.
"It's been two weeks now."
"They had to be specially made and shipped from the manufacturer," Elvi reminded
her.
"'Yes, because every damned window in this place is a different size," Mabel muttered.
Elvi's mouth quirked with amusement at her disgust. "Welcome to the world of
Victorian houses. Ain't it great?"
"Ha!" Mabel snarled, and then sat up with alarm when Elvi moved toward the door to
the hall. "Hey! Where are you going?"
"Back to my coffin."
"But what about the bat?" she asked with dismay, scrambling off the bed as quickly as
her sixty‐two‐year‐old body would allow and hurrying after her.
"What about it?" she asked, continuing up the hall.
"Well, aren't you going to get it out of my bathroom?"
"Do I look stupid to you?" Elvi asked with disbelief. "I'm not going near that thing. Call
Animal Control."
"Animal Control? They won't be open now."
"They must have someone on call for emergencies. Call and find out," Elvi said firmly
over her shoulder.
"But that could take hours," Mabel protested. "Can't you just get it out? I mean, you
should have some sort of affinity with it."
Elvi paused at the door to her own room and turned on her in amazement. "Do I look
like a flying rat to you?"
"No, of course not," Mabel said quickly, then added, "but you're a vampire and it's a
bat… There should be some empathy or understanding or… something. Maybe if you
tried you could talk to it."
"Right, and by that reasoning we should all be able to talk to monkeys. Let's try that
the next time we're near a zoo," Elvi snorted, then repeated, "call Animal Control."
"Elvi!" Mabel cried and stomped her foot when Elvi turned to continue on into her
room. "I can't take a shower with that thing in there."
It was a high‐pitched scream that woke Elvi. Piercing and full of terror, it ripped her
from sleep and had her moving before she was quite awake. She started up abruptly
only to curse and drop back down when her head slammed into the wooden lid of the
coffin.
Groaning at the pain vibrating through her skull, Elvi closed her eyes against the stars
dancing before them and pressed a hand against her forehead. She'd really cracked
herself good and would have liked to clasp her head in both hands and roll around in
agony for a moment, but the casket wouldn't allow it.
And then a second terrified shriek reminded her of why she was awake.
She reached out with the hand not holding her head and gave the coffin lid a shove
that sent it flying open. She then had to release her head to get up. Climbing out of a
coffin was a two‐handed job, and ridiculously strenuous first thing in the morning.
Especially before her first bag of blood.
Elvi cursed her way out of the contraption, her bare feet slapping on the hardwood
floor as she hurried out of her room without even bothering to grab a robe to cover
the white cotton nightgown she wore. Another scream cut the air as she raced up the
hall. A fourth was being issued just as she burst into Mabel's room. Elvi slammed the
door open, uncaring that it crashed into the wall and probably left a lovely hole.
She spotted Mabel at once, standing on the bed in her robe, backed against the wall,
silver hair a chaotic mass around her head and eyes wide with panic. The woman was
waving a body brush wildly in the air at a bat that was swooping just as wildly around
the room near the ceiling. She was also, apparently, screeching every time the winged
animal came anywhere near her. Elvi watched as the bat swerved to avoid hitting the
far wall and swooped back toward Mabel, setting off another shriek.
Veering to the side to avoid the waving shower brush, the bat swept through the open
bathroom door and briefly out of sight. Elvi rushed over and slammed the door closed,
trapping it inside.
"Oh!" Mabel collapsed on the bed, hugging the shower brush to her chest. "Oh, thank
God."
Elvi propped her hands on her hips and scowled at her housemate. "You opened your
windows last night."
Mabel sighed at the accusation in her voice. "I had to open the windows. It was hot,
Elvi."
"I know it was hot, Mabel. I live here too."
"But your windows have screens on them. The ones in your bedroom, at least."
"I sleep in a coffin," she pointed out in dry tones. "There are no windows in a coffin.
Trust me, I know it was hot. But you can't open your windows until the replacement
screens are in."
"Well, when the hell are they going to put them in already?" Mabel asked impatiently.
"It's been two weeks now."
"They had to be specially made and shipped from the manufacturer," Elvi reminded
her.
"'Yes, because every damned window in this place is a different size," Mabel muttered.
Elvi's mouth quirked with amusement at her disgust. "Welcome to the world of
Victorian houses. Ain't it great?"
"Ha!" Mabel snarled, and then sat up with alarm when Elvi moved toward the door to
the hall. "Hey! Where are you going?"
"Back to my coffin."
"But what about the bat?" she asked with dismay, scrambling off the bed as quickly as
her sixty‐two‐year‐old body would allow and hurrying after her.
"What about it?" she asked, continuing up the hall.
"Well, aren't you going to get it out of my bathroom?"
"Do I look stupid to you?" Elvi asked with disbelief. "I'm not going near that thing. Call
Animal Control."
"Animal Control? They won't be open now."
"They must have someone on call for emergencies. Call and find out," Elvi said firmly
over her shoulder.
"But that could take hours," Mabel protested. "Can't you just get it out? I mean, you
should have some sort of affinity with it."
Elvi paused at the door to her own room and turned on her in amazement. "Do I look
like a flying rat to you?"
"No, of course not," Mabel said quickly, then added, "but you're a vampire and it's a
bat… There should be some empathy or understanding or… something. Maybe if you
tried you could talk to it."
"Right, and by that reasoning we should all be able to talk to monkeys. Let's try that
the next time we're near a zoo," Elvi snorted, then repeated, "call Animal Control."
"Elvi!" Mabel cried and stomped her foot when Elvi turned to continue on into her
room. "I can't take a shower with that thing in there."