Page 60 of Blood and Buttercups

We begin pulling flats from the back of the truck. I think I have a few minutes to put my story in order, but Max emerges through the front door before I’m ready, scowling.

“Piper.” He says my name like I’m in trouble.

“Hey, you want to help us with the flowers? There was a sale, and I needed to supplement my May stock that died while I was sick. Plus, I bought some more bedding plants because the empty barrels are depressing.” Avoiding his eyes, I add, “Oh, there’s a door in here, too.”

“What is going on?”

“I’m going to do some planting.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“I have acquired a vampire stalker.” I pick up a wobbly cardboard flat holding several six-packs of zinnias and shove it at him. “Take those to the garden, will you?”

“Just tell me.”

I step close to him and angle my head back, pointing at the two faint scars on my neck. “He bit me about a month ago, the day after that mess with Kevin. The doctor ran some bloodwork, and apparently, I was infected. It’s cool. I’m not actually a vampire—I’m just pre-vampiric. I do have to take blood, though. I haven’t managed to choke any of it down, but I’ve eaten several cows’ worth of steak in the last week.”

Max scowls at me, flashing Noah a dark look. “Stop messing around.”

“No, it’s true. Now I’m registered in NIHA’s system, and they’ve assigned me a bodyguard.” I gesture toward Noah.

“Conservator,” Noah corrects.

“Bodyguard sounds so much cooler—don’t fight it.”

Noah raises his eyebrows, his expression amusedandpatronizing. It’s a gift.

“Piper,” Max warns, sounding weirdly like our father.

“Just set those down and come inside.” I wave to a spot near the porch swing. “I’ll show you the pamphlets.”

Agitated because I’m not one for practical jokes, Max deposits the flowers on the porch and walks inside, his eyes catching on the broken window. “And what happened to the door?”

“Noah thought my stalker broke in, so he busted through the window, action-hero style.”

Noah rolls his eyes. “That’s an exaggeration.”

Max gives my conservator a dark look.

“The pamphlets are in my bedroom. I’ll grab them real quick.” I point at my brother. “Be nice.”

I hurry because I’m not sure I trust Max to behave. Maybe there was a better way to break the news to him, but getting it over with quickly seemed like the best way to tackle it.

I expect to find Noah and Max in the living room when I come down the stairs, but their voices are coming from the kitchen. I hear Max swear, which isn’t a super good sign, and I hurry a little faster.

“This is an elaborate prank,” Max says when I step through the doorway, pointing at the prescription bottle. “How much did this cost you?”

“Uh, well. It was pretty reasonable, especially considering I have crappy insurance.”

I set the pamphlets down on the kitchen island and shove them toward him. Max flashes me an incredulous look and picks one up.

“Once we arrest Ethan, your lawyer will push for medical compensation,” Noah says. “It’s very standard in these cases. Ethan will have to pay it.”

“I have a lawyer?”

“NIHA will assign one to you.”

“That sounds expensive.”

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