Page 8 of Sunsets & Other Dangerous Things

She backed slowly toward the door.

“Wait.”

Crap. There went her third and final chance. And she was so sure she’d done the right thing this time. What happened when she ran out of second chances? Would they kick her out of the house? Leave her to find her own source of blood, figure out ever-changing and more necessary government documents, and evade vampire-hunting witches by herself? Or would it be something more permanent? What were the chances they let a lone and clueless vampire out into the world with the chance of exposing their existence to the humans? They might as well hand her over to the witches.

“He’s attending the university?” Hannah picked at invisible lint on her sleeve.

“I think so. He was on campus.”

Hannah nodded slowly, her gaze distant, and Ashley assumed her fate was at the end of whatever mental gymnastics were going on in Hannah’s head. This could be very good news or very bad, and she honestly didn’t know what either option would look like.

“I’d like for you to check on him,” Hannah said at length.

Ashley blinked. Okay. She wasn’t getting kicked out, but Hannah knew her nephew was a witch. This felt like a trap.

“Now?” Ashley asked. “He seemed fine when I left him.” She didn’t mention her previous threat to drown him.

“I’ll give you his address.” Hannah went to her secretary and pulled out a sheet of paper and quill. These old vampires and their reluctance with new technology.

The only reason Ashley had found them was that Cynthia was fascinated by “the World Wide Web” and had made a site only accessible through hearsay channels and links. Ashley hadlucked out and found a business card with the address when she was most desperate. She’d hitchhiked halfway across the country to show up on their door with nothing but the clothes on her back and a slight hunch they could help her.

Hannah scratched out a few lines on the page, her calligraphy perfect, and gently shook the paper a few times to dry the ink before handing it to Ashley.

Ashley had so many questions but was too relieved that she wasn’t being flung from the house or worse, so she kept them to herself. She noted the address before folding the page and cramming it in her back pocket.

“I expect regular updates—nightly if you can,” Hannah said. “Just that he is well and how he’s spending his time. He’ll know you’re there on my behalf, but…don’t be explicit.”

Again, Ashley wanted to ask why. He was a witch and a liability. Was this a test? Hannah must have heard the witch was up to something. Ashley would be sure to figure out what it was.

“All right.” Ashley nodded and left the room. One more thing to add to her list of Things to Not Screw Up. Now she was babysitting the world’s most annoying witch and trying to uncover his secret plot. This was going to be a long year.

3

Esther

Esther’s phone rang. Checking the ID, she answered the video call and threw it on her bed while she finished packing for work.

“Ah, yes,” came the tinny voice on the phone. “The tapestry-like face of my oldest and dearest friend. How are you today, Esther, my love? Would you call yourself a ceiling or an under-roof?”

Esther shoved her laptop into her bag. “Is that your way of calling me old, Uther, my oldest and most faithful comrade?”

“I would never. But if I did, words could never part us. We are the peas of a single pod. The Gimli and the Legolas. The Geralt and the Jaskier…”

“The annoyer and the annoyed?” She blew at a lock of hair tickling her nose.

“Esther. Come, let me see your face so I may properly profess my love for you.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“It very much is, yes. Thank you in advance.”

Esther dropped her bag and plopped onto her bed with a huff. He wanted something. Which was fair. When she’d left her tranquil solitude—nearly one year ago to this day—to attend an open game night at the local board game café, she’d wanted something too. What she’d wanted was a casual acquaintance—an accountability partner, if you will—to check in and make sure they were both completing their homework and to alert the local authorities if she ever went missing.

What she’d ended up with was her fellow wallflower, Uther.

“What do you want, Uther?” she asked.

“Please, let me come to work with you. I’ll behave. You’ll barely notice me. I can help you, even. I love books or papers or whatever crap you’re working with.”

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