Page 62 of Vampires and Violas

“If you change your mind, please let me know.”

He then takes his place on the side wall, crosses his hands behind his back, and stares straight ahead.

I glance at Noah, unsure what to think of all this, but he’s the picture of ease. Maybe it’s practiced—or perhaps he’s used to these fussy vampire gatherings.

I think back to Ethan, realizing all those people in his restaurant were likely vampires as well.

A text drags me out of my memories.

Cassian: You good?

Piper: Fine so far. But I think we’ve found your ex-girlfriend.

Three little dots come up as Cassian starts typing, but a door opens, distracting me, and Larissa and another woman appear.

Sophia is nothing like I expected. Larissa looks like a Parisian villain.

Sophia looks like Little Miss Muffet.

She’s petite and lovely, with shoulder-length golden curls and the sweetest face you’ve seen outside of Mother Goose stories. She wears a light pink chiffon dress and pearls, with blush-colored high heels.

Her eyes sweep over us, catching on Noah. Her smile falters momentarily, but then she extends her hands in greeting. “Hello and welcome. I’m Sophia Barrington. I’m so pleased you could make it.”

I glance at Noah to gauge his reaction and have to swallow a laugh. He looks both confused and incredulous, but to his credit, he’s trying to school his surprise.

She turns toward the butler. “Richard, did you offer our guests refreshments?”

Richard, not Winston. Bummer.

“I did, Miss Barrington.”

“Very good.” She beams at him. “You may go now. I’ll call if we need you.”

He gives her a silent bow, givesusa silent bow, and then finally leaves the room.

“That’s Richard.” Sophia motions for us to join her in the seating area and chooses one of the wingback chairs. “He’s working off his set—already to stage two. He’s actually quite lively, but he’s having such fun with the solemn butler persona he’s adopted. I’m going to surprise him with his third dose tomorrow because I’m afraid I just had a concerning chat with his doctor—a lovely woman who moved her practice to Mexico a few years ago. Her name is Dr. Albright. Do you know her?”

I try to keep up as Sophia tells us more about the doctor. By the time she’s done, I know the woman’s age, background, and favorite type of blood. (Organic, farm-raised elk.)

Sophia, it appears, is a bit like a hummingbird. She talks fast, and her hands flutter quickly. We couldn’t respond if we wanted to.

Her face falls as she returns to Richard. “His cancer is spreading. He has few symptoms thanks to the Vampiria B that’s already in his system, but Dr. Albright doesn’t think his body will hold out much longer.”

Noah is silent, so I nod. “That’s awful.”

“Isn’t it? Do you want tea?” Sophia frowns. “This feels like a conversation for it.” She flashes Larissa a sorrowful look. “But I really hate to ask too much of Richard right now.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Larissa offers, picking up on Sophia’ssubtlesignal. “What would you like?”

“Earl Grey, I think,” Sophia answers, then she looks back at us. “Do you like Earl Grey?”

Noah shakes his head, looking baffled—probably because our hostess just flippantly admitted, without qualm or question, that she’s been spreading the virus—and to the local chief of investigations no less.

“No, you don’t like it? Or no, you’ve never had it?” Sophia smiles warmly, and it hits me there’s a good dose of southern accent in her tone. It’s strong, hinting at time spent in Alabama or Georgia.

“I’ve never had it,” Noah answers.

“Oh, it’s my favorite.” She pauses again, briefly. “You can drink tea, can’t you? I knew a vampire who couldn’t stomach it…”

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