Page 6 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Four

I can hear keys jingling through the phone. “I’ll be there in less than ten.”

Judy keeps the front door locked to avoid walk-ins, so when Sam arrives, Judy turns the deadbolt with a loud thud and then suddenly Sam is rushing me, her arms wrapped around my neck. “I hate hugs but I know you need this,” she says.

I squeeze her back. “You have no idea.”

“Well, I’ll have an idea when you tell me.”

“Anything to drink or eat, sugar?” Judy asks, a pencil sticking out of her wound hair. Behind the counter, Stanley drops in a basket of fries and the oil snaps and crackles.

“Diet Coke,” Sam says as she slides onto a stool. “And a grilled cheese and fries.”

Judy fills a red plastic Coke cup with ice, then soda from the tap. The carbonation fizzes when Judy puts the cup in front of Sam. “Food will be up in a few minutes,” she says, then leaves us alone.

“All right.” Sam tears off the wrapper on her straw and jabs it through the ice. The chunks plink against the thick plastic. “Tell me what I’ve missed.”

A half hour later, after giving Sam the condensed version, she stares off into space, absently eating her fries one by one.

“Say something.” I nudge her with my foot.

She chomps on another fry. She hasn’t blinked in at least two whole minutes.

“Sam.”

Wiping the salt and the grease on a napkin, she turns the stool slowly toward me. “You remember when clogs got really popular in school and we were like, ‘Ummm, no.’”

“Yeah?”

“And then we bought a pair because fuck it, whatever, and we realized secretly we loved them? Hideous but easy to slip on and go, super comfortable.” She rolls her eyes. “Like so comfortable.”

“Yes. And?”

“And maybe this whole thing is like foam clogs.”

“You must be joking.”

“Maybe you’ll realize you like being the villain. Maybe you like being royalty. I mean, have you even asked if there’s a crown? A throne? Like what do you get out of this?”

“An entire fae race hunting her down,” Judy answers from behind the counter.

“War, surely,” Stanley calls.

Sam waves it away. “If you’re a siren, then use your voice.”

It’s an echo of what Bran keeps telling me. Something I’ve always been afraid to do. And now, looking back, I realize it was a learned behavior. My mother was always telling me to be careful what I said and how I said it. Keep your voice down. Don’t be bossy.

I just thought she was doing what mothers do and now I think she was trying to teach me not to use my powers, even though she’d already bound them.

My stomach clenches and a flare of anger sends warmth across my chest.

Mom robbed me of a lot, most of all choice.

And there’s nothing I can do about it now. I can’t scream at her. I can’t give her the cold shoulder. I can’t tell her all of the ways she hurt me.

Somehow that makes me even more mad.

Use my voice?

What’s the first thing I do with it?

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