Page 45 of Death is Familiar

My apology hung between us, tense like newly strung bow. Lenore may not have liked me, and I didn’t like her, but I could still get the job done and be the bigger person in the process.

After a moment of silence, she exhaled, drumming her fingers on her considerable wooden desk. Once. Twice.

“I supposed I never thanked you for that—catching Daemonica.” Lenore lowered herself back down into her seat. “What can I do? How can I help?”

I readied my first question, but Todd stepped forward, so I played the role of translator instead, as he asked, “Do you have competition?”

“A couple other vamp groups, but they are nothing to worry about.” Lenore leaned back in her chair, her ringed fingers steepled over her waist. “We work hard to play nice. And despite what you may think, we vamps work together to make sure we create a space where everyone belongs.”

Except for me.

I might have said that thought aloud.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. You are the reason we have the terms and conditions in the first place.”

What?

“You said, and I quote, ‘maybe if you had a way for people to come forward you wouldn’t have a mass murderer on your hands’.”

Fine, fine, that sounded like me. Maybe not those exact words. But the sentiment was there. The part I found interesting was that Lenore followed through. Perhaps I overestimated the animosity between us.

“And has it been useful? Anyone come forward?”

“The usual stuff every business owner deals with. Complaints about membership fees, our location rotation not aligning with schedules, not leaving enough time for members to get to fang ceremonies, or someone not liking the flavor of body paints on offer.” She shook her ice-blonde bob, such a contrast to her dark skin. “But no issues have arisen around consent, or between vamp and prey. Consent is such a large part of what we do, especially now, the problem doesn’t really come from my members, or the vamp community. It’s those with small minds, in small towns like this, that are the real concern.”

I read between the lines. “So, you’ve received threats?”

“Oh yes, we’ve received threats. By non-vamps. Usually, it’s kids who don’t get what we do. Some of it is just pure hate. Others get their jollies from pretending to be vampire slayers. Spray painting crosses at our events. Mailing in garlic. A nuisance, but nothing that would warrant getting the police involved.”

Trying out vamp empathy for the third or fourth time this evening, I said, “Sounds troubling.”

“You get used to it…” The tone in the room changed. “So, Mercy, Celeste…” The emotions and realization seemed to hit Lenore with sudden force. “They’re all really⁠—”

“I’m afraid so.”

Lenore shifted in her seat and flicked away tears before they could fall. “Whatever you need. Let me know. Video footage. Attendance sheets. They’re yours.”

Todd nodded his thanks, and I didn’t miss the subtle glint of approval that flowed in my direction.

“I’ll ensure Jezebel is at your disposal.” Lenore typed something onto her phone which she sent with a whoosh. “Not that she’d need my approval before cavorting around with you... Your continued friendship hasn’t been lost on me.”

She had to be kidding me.

“So, the falling out?” Something Jezebel and I staged so she could gain Lenore’s trust as she transitioned to full-time familiar.

“It was a little convenient, even if the performance was Oscar-worthy.” Lenore smiled as an errant tear slipped free. She hadn’t fallen for our charade, but that didn’t seem to matter. Maybe I hadn’t given her enough credit. Maybe she wasn’t so bad, and this is how helpful she could have been if we hadn’t started off on the wrong foot. Or maybe she was just playing nice because I had the support of the FBI.

“We’ll be in touch about the video footage, and we’ll let you know if we have any further questions.” Todd left a business card I wasn’t even aware he had on Lenore’s desk before stepping back towards the door. “Thank you for your time.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know if anything else springs to mind,” Lenore read off his card, “Special Agent Galt.”

Out of nowhere, my stomach clenched, like someone reached into my belly and grabbed it with a fist. Ugh. I gritted my teeth and stuck my tongue to the roof of my mouth to distract from the hollowing nausea. I sidestepped beside Todd, ready to leave.

I’d packed some goodies away in my bodice, but they would be more than a little conspicuous to reach. If we did one last quick spin of the main floor, I was sure I could get my hand on some pretzels. I’d seen some by the bar. I sure as hell wasn’t going to eat the red syrup. Even if it did smell like candy.

The thought of viscous syrup alone almost triggered my gag reflex. I needed to move, fast. I reached for the handle⁠—

“And Delilah?” I slid past the fact that she did know my name as I glanced over my shoulder to find Lenore leaning over her desk with more intensity than I’d ever seen her exhibit. “Make them pay.”