Page 21 of Evil Hearts

Juliette tilts her head. “What is a ‘chucklefuck?’ More slang? British slang?”

I nod. “No. I know I’m younger than you, probably, judging from your clothing, but I’ve been around long enough to steal slang from a bunch of different places. Besides, it’s 2025. Gotta get with the times. I know it’s probably more comfortable living in the sewers and all, but you’ve got to get out more.”

Juliette’s face falls even more than usual. I’ve said something wrong, obviously. But the trouble is … when I say something wrong to women, I never know how to fix it. Whenever I try, I wind up digging my hole even deeper.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”

Juliette nudges me in the arm and points at the dead bodies lying several feet away from us. “We should get these back if we’re taking them ‘to go,’ as you said.”

I nod. “Yeah. Though it’s probably going to take a few trips.” She’s really small, and there’s no way I can expect her to carry everything. Especially not after she just saved my ass from getting ‘purged by the light’ or whatever nonsense that paladinwas spouting. But Juliette bounds up to one of the bodies and, in a single swift movement, tosses it over her shoulder. My mouth falls open.

“W-Wait. How did you—” I start.

Juliette shrugs. “My power. Nosferatu are very strong.” She lifts the other body and tosses it over her other shoulder. “But you can carry him.” She motions to the dead paladin.

I cringe. Moving that over-sized dumpster is going to be the death of me, but … for her, I’ll do it.Because she saved your sorry ass, Scotty. You owe her.

We take our dinner down to the sewers and feast like a king and queen until our stomachs are full to bursting and we can’t drink another drop. I rub my stomach as I stare up at the ceiling thoughtfully. Juliette puts on an old record on her “phonograph” as she calls it. When I tried telling her it was a record player, she just looked at me strangely.

Fine. Phonograph it is. Whatever makes her happy.

“What is your power, then?” she asks over the crackling tones of Édith Piaf, who I hadn’t even heard of until Juliette told me. Not my usual kind of music, but it’s nice. “You have not shown me.”

Suddenly, I’m embarrassed. Normally, vamps don’t ask each other this question. It’s considered bad manners. It’s basically asking someone point blank how old they are. But Juliette isn’t asking to be rude, or to exploit my weaknesses. She’s just curious, I guess.

I wipe my hands on my jeans and look away from her. This is awkward. “I, uh, don’t have any,” I say.

She says nothing and everything all at once.

“Yeah, I’m your garden variety loser without a college degree working at the gas station before being turned forty-one years ago, so…”

Juliette crosses her legs and leans forward. “How old are you?”

“Oh, who’s counting these days?” I rub the back of my neck. “Did it get hot in here? I think we should check to make sure the sewer doesn’t have a buildup of gas or something. Could be dangerous. You know, fire and—”

Her eyes narrow to slits. “Scotty. Stop deflecting. How old are you?”

I wince. “Sixty … five? Give or take?”

A baby, as far as vampires go. Most vamps are feral for their first few decades until they’re either staked and meet their true death or learn how to get their bloodlust under control. Without a sire to guide me, it was a miracle that I made it to vampire adulthood. I’m aware of how lucky I am.

One of the corners of Juliette’s mouth curves upward.

“You’re a child,” she says, but her tone isn’t patronizing. More just … stating a fact. “I see. I’m sorry this happened to you,” she says, then grabs one of the drained bodies, drags it over to the water, and tosses it in. She repeats the process with the other two bodies, though tin-can man doesn’t float like the others, obviously. Good. I don’t want to look at him anymore, anyway.

When she’s done, she sits down in front of me again and frowns. “It’s not fair. You should have had a full life by now.”

I swallow the lump that’s lodged itself in my throat and nod. “Y-Yeah. I guess so. But to be honest, my life wasn’t really going anywhere. If it wasn’t a vamp that got me, it would have been something else. Drugs. Accident. Bar fight.”

Juliette frowns again. “You had no family? No friends?”

I shake my head. “My parents and I stopped getting along after I turned fourteen, and I’m not great at making friends. I’m sure you can see why.”

She goes pensive for a few moments. Then she says, “I think you are sweet. Maybe a little too enthusiastic sometimes, but still sweet.”

Sweet, but too much? I’ll take it. I grin at her and lean back against the crate, settling in for a long nap. “Thanks, doll. You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Please do not call me that,” she murmurs. “You can call me Juli again, though, if you wish.”

---