Page 58 of Bad Luck Vampire

“That was hard to do, of course. I mean those two were slick and tricky, skulking the halls and looking for any opportunity to trap you in the bathroom or somewhere else. And Sicko Steve seemed to constantly be trying to catch me unawares. But Beverly and her brother, Andrew, kept an eye out for me, and I did the same for them.”

Sophie smiled again as she thought of them. “The three of us became pretty tight. I don’t think I would have survived the group home without them.”

Alasdair watched Sophie smile blindly down at the steak she was cooking. It seemed obvious she was in her memories, back in the past in that group home. With her best friend and the girl’s brother. He frowned as he recalled Marguerite listing off all the people Sophie had lost and mentioning a childhood best friend. Obviously, she hadn’t been talking about Megan. She still lived. Was Beverly that best friend lost to an unnatural death?

“Are the three of you still friends?” Alasdair asked, hoping to find out. “Where are Beverly and Andrew now?”

Sophie jerked as if waking from a dream and turned the stove off before saying flatly, “Gone. Beverly is dead. Andrew’s still alive but in a coma in the hospital.”

“What happened?” Alasdair asked gently.

Sophie opened the oven and slid the steaks onto a plate waiting inside, already warmed up. Closing the door, she carried the frying pan to the sink. He watched and waited as she started to clean the pan. It wasn’t until she’d finished and set it on the drying rack that she spoke again.

Picking up a towel, she dried her hands and said, “Andrew was into skateboarding big-time. He was always doing tricks and stuff. Hardflips and backside tail slides, stuff like that. And he never wore a helmet,” she said, sounding angry. “I don’t know what he was doing that day. Beverly and I usually stopped at the park with him on the way home to watch him mess around and try new tricks, but we were doing a group project with Megan for history and didn’t stop with him like usual. We walked him there and then Beverly and I went to the library instead. Megan had to stay late for getting lippy with our economics teacher, so she followed us a little later. We were all at the library for at least an hour, and then Beverly and I parted ways with Megan and headed back to the group home. We expected Andrew to be there when we got back, but he wasn’t. We went looking for him.”

Giving him her back, she carefully folded the dish towel and said, “We found him lying in a pool of blood, his skull caved in on one side. He must have been trying one of his new tricks and wiped out.”

“And he’s in a hospital, still alive but in a coma all these years later?” Alasdair asked slowly, finding that hard to believe. “They haven’t pulled the plug on him?”

“His mother won’t let them,” Sophie said. Setting down the towel, she faced him again and leaned against the sink as she explained, “Beverly and Andrew weren’t in the group home because their parents were dead like mine. Their mother was a drug addict and they were taken away for neglect or something. But she came from a wealthy family. She was fighting to get them back the whole time we were in the group home, and she was finally clean. I think she was about to get them back too, but then Andrew had his accident, and Beverly... died.”

“How?” Alasdair asked softly.

Sophie paused, obviously reluctant to tell him, but after a moment she finally said, “Beverly was allergic to nuts. Two weeks after Andrew’s accident, she somehow was exposed to nuts, or nut oil or something nut related. We never figured out what, but she went into anaphylactic shock and died.”

Alasdair blew out a breath at this news. Two tragedies in a couple of weeks.

“I still don’t know how it happened,” Sophie added with a troubled frown. “Beverly was always super careful to avoid nuts. We all were. Andrew and I wouldn’t even go near nuts for fear we’d somehow transfer it to her.” She shook her head unhappily.

Alasdair was silent for a minute, and then said, “You were alone at the group home after that? With no one to watch your back?”

Sophie met his gaze and shrugged. “Not for long. I went to foster at the Tomlinsons shortly after that. They’d already applied and been doing the courses to take me when that all happened.” She smiled crookedly. “Beverly was upset about it at the time. Afraid I’d move out and forget about her. I promised her nothing would change. We’d still be best friends. We’d have sleepovers and stuff and she could hang with us at the Tomlinsons’ as much as she was allowed.” Sophie bit her lip and admitted, “That didn’t help much. She was still upset, even more so after Andrew’s accident. I began to feel guilty about it and decided it might not be a good time to leave her. Especially with Andrew in the hospital. But in the end, I wasn’t the one who left first.”

Sighing, she straightened and moved to the cupboard to pull out a package of something he couldn’t see the name of.

It turned out to be some kind of garlic pasta you just added to boiling water, then stirred butter into. It smelled really good while it was cooking, and they were both quiet as they finished prepping their meal, her handling the pasta while Alasdair continued cutting up tomatoes and green onions to add to the salad he’d taken over preparing.

It wasn’t until they were sitting down to eat that he continued their conversation by asking, “Why have you never been married?”

Sophie glanced up with surprise. “Who said I’m not?”

Twenty

Sophie watched the shock spread across Alasdair’s face, and couldn’t hold back her grin. “Of course I’m not married. I’d hardly be having crazy monkey sex with you if I was.”

Alasdair sat back in his seat with relief, and shook his head. “Ye’ve a mean streak, lass. Ye near to gave me a heart attack with that.”

“I do love your accent,” Sophie said, her grin widening. “It turns me on.”

“Does it?” he asked with interest, a smile now curving the corners of his mouth.

“Mm-hmm,” she said. “In fact, if I weren’t so sore, I’d jump you right now.”

His smile died at once, concern replacing it. “Ye’re sore?”

“Aren’t you?” she asked dryly.

Alasdair opened his mouth to respond, but then paused as her buzzer sounded. They both glanced toward the hall with surprise.

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