Page 58 of Blood and Buttercups

Noah shakes his head. “Not yet. We were fortunate to get the synthetic blood.”

I rest my cheek on the granite countertop, not sure I’m going to make it as a pre-vamp.

“Hey, cheer up,” he says. “I’ll make you a steak, and we’ll try again tonight.”

“It’s not even noon yet.”

He almost smiles. “I’ll fry some eggs on the side.”

Anything sounds better than blood.

13

Because my lifehas gotten incredibly weird, I end up at a hardware store after breakfast so my new bodyguard and I can pick out a replacement front door.

“Is it even safe to have a window in it?” I ask Noah as we browse the options. Like carpet samples, the doors are on a swinging rack display, so you can page through them like an enormous book.

“The newer ones are safer than regular windows,” he says. “But it was time to replace yours anyway. It was old and far too easy to break.”

“I still can’t believe you busted the glass.”

“All part of the service,” he deadpans, pausing at a door. “What about this one? It looks similar, doesn’t it?”

“Too expensive.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

“Fine.” I eye him. “Pick out the most expensive one, and let’s go.”

He rolls his eyes and keeps looking.

“I think I want a door we can paint,” I say. “I’ve always wanted one in a cheerful color.”

“We?”

“I’m giving you a discount for your room and board, remember? I plan to put you to work.”

“I said I’d pull your wagon.”

“That’s not worth a two-hundred-a-month discount.”

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Yep.” I pause on a nice, classic front door. “I like this one.”

“That’s one of the cheapest options.”

“It’s budget-friendly.”

“It might be cardboard.”

I flash him a look. “Fine. Which one do you like?”

He flips through the lot again and stops at a door that’s middle-of-the-road in price, with classic looks, and is paintable. “How about this one?”

“I like it.”

“Great. Let’s look at security cameras.”

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