Page 4 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Four

Oh god.

Oh god.

Bran is beside me in an instant, his cool hand at the nape of my neck. He says nothing. Just lets me retch and vomit in silence.

When my stomach stops revolting, I suck in several deep breaths.

“Jimmy,” Bran calls, but no one comes. Probably she’s still busy with Bianca and Damien and Kelly. “Stay here, Mouse,” he tells me and then is gone.

I push away from the wastebasket and fall back on the plush rug. Stanley blocks out the ceiling light when he comes to stand over me, several tissues in hand. I take them quickly and wipe at my mouth.

The old man kneels again. I groan but he offers me his hand and says, “Just to help you up.”

I suppose I can handle that.

When I’m back on my feet, I amble over to the chair and drop into it and let my head rest against the backside, eyes closed.

There is this overwhelming urge to just sob and sob and sob, but no tears come.

“Do you know why I love The Greasy Spoon so much, Stanley?” I ask.

He’s quiet a moment and then says, “Why?”

“Because even when I was having a shitty day, I knew I could go to the diner and order a grilled cheese and as soon as it arrived at my table and I took the first bite, everything would feel all right again.”

He chuckles to himself and the chair groans as he sits in it. “Diners and melted cheese are good for that.”

I open my eyes. “I think I need that right now, more than anything. I need the comfort. I need something that’s—” My voice catches. “I need something that’s normal. I need to go somewhere where I’m not feared or loathed. Where I’m not a powerful tool or a villain.”

“When Bran returns, we could ask—”

“No.” I stand up. “I don’t need his permission to go get a grilled cheese.”

“With all due respect, Your Royal—”

“Please, for the love of god, stop saying that.”

His chin wrinkles up, his mouth pressed firmly together as he considers his options. If he really does believe I’m some fabled royal fae, he’ll listen to my commands.

“As you wish,” he finally says, and I swear the ground trembles beneath me.

Everything is changing and I am freaking the fuck out.

I swallow several times, taking in a deep breath. “Did you drive here? Or ride in on some magical faerie steed?”

He laughs again. “I drove.”

“Then will you drive me to the diner and make me a grilled cheese and super salty french fries?”

He bows his head just slightly and I don’t miss the act of reverence. “Of course. I’ll call ahead and have Judy get the fryer going. But Bran—”

“Is my problem, Stanley. Don’t you worry.”

“Very well.” He returns his cap to his head and follows me out the door.

I’m not sure where Bran disappeared to, but we make it out of Duval House and into Stanley’s old sedan without anyone stopping us. I’m aware that I’m taking some risks here, but if Stanley wanted me dead, he could have killed me as an oblivious one-year-old instead of stuffing my face with grilled cheeses for twenty-one years.

And everyone and everything else that might pose a threat to me in Midnight Harbor will learn soon enough what I did at the Pledge Hall.

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