Page 17 of Beasts

“If it’s too weird, I can stop asking questions.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s part of living here, I guess. Everyone has their quirks,” he says with a slight smile, turning back to his cooking. Oliver’s candidness about his unique dietary needs adds another layer of complexity to my understanding of him. “It’s true, they do take turns donating, but not all of them. I cook at night so everyone has something to eat the next day,” he explains.

Intrigued, I ask, “Does what someone eats affect how their blood tastes?”

He chuckles, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Yes, but keep that between us. They think I’m just being considerate.”

I can’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. “Sorry,” I apologize, trying to compose myself.

“No need to apologize. You have a nice laugh,” he says, and I feel an unexpected warmth at his words.

Curiosity piqued, I probe further. “Why do only some of the guys donate?”

Oliver explains, “Ever seen what happens to fish blood when exposed to air? Turns into a jelly-like sludge. It’s revolting.”

“So, not Kane,” I deduce.

“Right, his blood reacts oddly with vampires,” he confirms as he resumes cooking. He then fills another bowl with food and hands it to me. His acts of kindness, despite his nature and the fact he doesn’t need to be nice, leave me pondering about the layers beneath his vampire facade.

As I stand there with the bowl in my hands, I debate whether to stay and eat or retreat to my room. Would it be odd to leave? Does he even want my company?

Before I can decide, Oliver turns off the stove and covers the pan. “I’m heading to bed. See you tomorrow.” He leaves the kitchen, his footsteps echoing slightly in the quiet house.

Left alone in the kitchen, I realize that my interactions with Oliver are slowly peeling back the layers of his enigmatic character. His willingness to share details about his life, coupled with the small acts of thoughtfulness, suggest a depth to him that contradicts the typical vampire stereotype. It’s a reminder that beneath the supernatural exterior, there’s a person with unique preferences, habits, and perhaps, a longing for normalcy. As I start to eat the food he prepared, I find myself more intrigued and empathetic towards Oliver, wondering what other facets of his life remain hidden, waiting to be understood.

Chapter eleven

Pulled Strings

The breakfast table is abuzz with lively conversation as Nolan, Echo, and the triplets entertain me with stories from their past. The triplets, particularly Richard, are animated as they recount tales of their unique shifter lives. In the middle of a particularly exciting story, Richard hurries toward the door, unexpectedly colliding with Oliver, who had just entered the room.

The atmosphere instantly shifts to one of tense silence, everyone’s eyes fixed on the interaction between Richard and Oliver. Oliver, visibly trying to regain composure, closes his eyes briefly as if to center himself.

“Hey, man. What you thinking about?” Richard asks, breaking the silence.

Oliver takes a deep breath before answering, “Did you know cotton candy was invented by a dentist?”

The absurdity of the fact brings a chuckle from Richard, and Oliver, shaking his head, heads into the kitchen. The randomness of Oliver’s response confuses me.

Nolan, sensing my curiosity, leans in and explains, “Vampires like Oliver can struggle with physical touch. It can trigger a need in them to... draw blood.” The gravity of his words hits me, unsettling yet clarifying.

“So, distracting him with a random question helps him regain control?”

“Exactly. It’s a way for us to help him manage his impulses.”

This revelation makes me reflect on the upcoming drama club activities with Oliver. It’s an insight that could prove invaluable in understanding and interacting with him.

Our conversation is interrupted by the doorbell, a rarity in this house where everyone else seems to have a key. Hugh, who was in the living room, answers the door. From my seat, I can’t see the visitor, but I hear a familiar voice.

“Hi, I’m Nikki from Alpha Kappa Alpha. I was told by the school’s Admissions Board that this is Amelia Harper’s new postal address?”

Hearing my name and realizing Nikki is at the door, I feel a mix of surprise and apprehension. What could Nikki, from the sorority I almost joined, want with me here? My thoughts race as I consider the possible reasons for her visit, each one bringing with it a sense of unease and curiosity about how my new housemates might react to this unexpected intrusion from my past.

“That’s right, she has a cousin here.” Oh, I didn’t know we were still sticking to that story.

“Cool well she got a package delivered, one of the twins at the house found it had been delivered a couple days ago, so we just wanted to bring it over. Here you go.” The moment Hugh mentions a package for me, a flicker of excitement lights up within me. I suspect it’s my guitar, a cherished instrument that I’ve been eagerly awaiting. Leaping up from the breakfast table, I rush over to Hugh, who hands me the familiar-shaped package.

The triplets watch with interest as I carry it to the living room and gently place it on the couch. Their curiosity is palpable.

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