Death Takes a Holiday Page 8

  “It’s okay,” I say, taking her arm. “It takes more than hormones to ruin happy shopping time. Unless you have a nuclear weapon.”

  We browse more, finding nothing before going downstairs to the men’s department. It’s even busier than the women’s. April beelines for a display of flannel shirts, picking out a blue and white one. “Javi will love this.”

  I walk to a nearby rack and pluck a short-sleeved black and white striped sailor cashmere sweater. It screams Oliver. One down.

  “Who’s that for?” April asks.

  “Oliver.”

  “Clothes, huh?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “I’m not buying him underwear.”

  I select a tie for George, a light blue and white checkered dress shirt for Carl, for Andrew a new pair of sunglasses, and Will a royal blue fleece sweatshirt. It’s soft like I bet his hair is. Hope he likes it. I’m on a roll, but almost gasp when it’s totaled. April’s discount is a blessing.

  Her lunch break is almost up, so we make our way back to the salon. I stop at Hot Topic with its fake stone wall and blaring heavy metal. “Mind if we go in here?”

  She shrugs and follows me in. The tiny shop is so packed I barely get in the door. Teenagers with holes in their ears big enough to fit pencils though and rainbow-colored hair are everywhere. I wiggle my way to the girl’s side where I search through the piles for an Edward Scissorhands shirts. Nancy is madly in love with Johnny Depp, so she should love this.

  “I’m sorry, but we’ve been out of high school how long?” April asks.

  “Eight years. Why?”

  “How could teenagers have changed so much in that time? When did dressing like a corpse and putting holes everywhere become cool? If someone came to our school dressed like this, they would have had their ass kicked.”

  “The times they are a’changin’,” I say with a smirk. I locate the shirt and push my way to the jewelry section. A pasty, thin to the point of death girl with a skull nose ring, tight black pants, and tie-dyed shirt gazes at me as I reach the necklaces. Her eyes immediately jut to the scar on my neck.

  “Who are you buying for here?” April asks.

  “Nancy, our intern.”

  “The one who hates you?”

  “Yeah. Can’t hurt, right?” I select a necklace with a set of silver vam-

  pire fangs on it. I get three: for me, Nancy, and Oliver. He’ll get a kick out of it. The strange girl keeps those eyes on me, so I meet her eyes with a smile.

  “I think I know you,” she says, voice hazy. The poor gal looks ready to fall over.

  “I’m sorry?” I ask.

  “Don’t you belong to Brady?” She points to my scar. “Did he do that to you?”

  Oh nuts. I must have left my powers of observation back in Kansas. I take in the bruises on her wrists nearly concealed by bracelets along with the fading one on her neck. She’s a companion, or as I like to think of them, walking Happy Meals for vampires. Messed up individuals who let bloodsuckers feed on them every night.

  My heart skips a beat, but I don’t let it show. I smile graciously at the girl. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” April stares

  at the girl as if she’s a Martian. “April, let’s go.” I tug on her shirt and walk toward the long checkout line.

  April keeps glancing at the girl. “That was weird,” she says.

  “Yeah,” I say with a sigh.

  “Think she’s a junkie?” April says with another glance.

  She is, I say to myself, just not the kind you think. “Looks like one. See all those bruises? Sad.” I pause. “Hey, shouldn’t you be getting back?”

  April checks her watch. “Shit. Yeah. Call me tonight?”

  “Of course.” We kiss cheeks, and she runs through the crowd like a linebacker. Good. I return my attention to the girl. She stares at the jewelry almost as if she’s in a trance. If I had to guess, I’d put her at eighteen, if that. Vamps like them young and docile. Most companions are runaways or outlaws who hang with vamps for about three months before being either killed or discarded with a memory wipe. For those three months the vamps offer them a safe haven, sex with a gorgeous and powerful creature, and—on extremely rare occasions—a chance at immortality. But if what Oliver tells me is true, seven out of ten end up dead.

  This girl is on her last legs, and those legs choose this very moment to give out on her. She crumples to the floor as shoppers look on. The girl shakes her head to clear it, but wobbles even on the ground. Crud. I set my stuff on a nearby shelf and rush over to the girl, pulling her up by the armpits. “Come on,” I say when she’s upright. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

  The teen doesn’t protest as I march her out of the store to the food court. We don’t say a word as we wait in line, though she keeps glancing at me as if she wants to. I don’t want to talk. I’m too busy playing out the rest of her life in my head. Living in the basement, watching TV or sleeping until night comes when the vamp wakes. He feeds, using her whole body for his needs until one night that body gives out. He’ll either bury her, cut her up, or toss her in the ocean. The next night he’ll pick up a new girl, and the cycle will continue. If she’s lucky, and looking at her I doubt it, someone will find her corpse, and maybe I’ll be called in to find her murderer. Tragedy.

  We reach the fast-food counter. “We’ll have two double cheeseburgers, a hamburger, and fries please.”

  “I don’t eat meat anymore,” the girl says. “He wants me to be a vegan like he was.”

  I roll my eyes and look at the cashier. “We’ll have Cokes with those.” I pay and slide over to where they’ll hand us our order. The girl trails me like a lost puppy.

  “I can’t eat meat,” she whispers fearfully.

  “You’re dangerously anemic. You need iron, and right now these burgers are the closest thing to red meat available.” I pick up our tray of grease. “Come on.” She follows me to the only free table in sight and sits across from me but will not look up as I hold a burger out to her. “You almost passed out in the middle of the store,” I say, not hiding my annoyance. “If I have to force this down your throat, I will. Eat.”

  Eyes still downward, she takes the burger. “Moon won’t like it.”

  “Well, you tell Moon that Special Agent Beatrice Alexander of the F.R.E.A.K.S. told you to do it. And if he has a problem with you taking care of yourself, he can speak with me. I’ll sort him out. Eat.”

  She unwraps the burger and hesitantly takes a bite. Then another bigger bite as I watch. Her eyes all but roll back in ecstasy. Smiling to myself, I start on my burger. I might have just saved this girl’s life with the power of fast food. Now this Moon will know he’s on my radar and behave himself. A swell of pride washes over me. Having the ability to stop bad guys with a cheeseburger and a few choice words is quite a high.

  “Your friend’s staring at us,” the girl says, bringing me back down to reality.

  I spin around in my chair. April stands across the courtyard, her face scrunched in confusion before shaking her head and walking away. Great, another thing I have to explain. Having lunch with a junkie. I shut my eyes and sigh. She was right. I have changed. Old Bea would ignore this girl and her problems. She’d look down on her, not feed her. Shame on her.

  “Thank you,” the girl says quietly.

  I open my eyes and smile at her. “You’re welcome.”

  An unfamiliar silver Mercedes rests in my parking spot in the driveway. It takes me all of a second to figure out who it belongs to. My shopping and good deed high crashes down to the core of the earth where Morlocks will feast on it. I was really hoping he’d find some excuse to skip his weekly trip down, but I’m never that lucky. I park at the curb, shut off the car, and thunk my head on the steering wheel. The last time I saw Brian was five months ago. We managed civility for about three minutes and then got into a screaming match on the sidewalks of Wichita. Time for Round Two.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I say t
o myself.

  After collecting all my bags from the trunk, I walk into the house, scanning the living room for possible bogies, like angry older brothers, and step in. Nobody in sight. My high anxiety lowers from threat level red to orange as I shut the door. Maybe they went for a walk. Or aliens abducted them to save me. Nope. The toilet flushes down the hall. I suppose I could make a dash to the front door and just drive around for a few hours. Or I can—

  Brian saunters into the living room before I can implement my plan. My brother is a handsome man. Medium build in his white Polo shirt and pressed chinos. His dark brown hair is parted to the left with nary a stray strand sticking up. We look nothing alike. We both have Mom’s light brown eyes, but he got more of her with his height and nose. I take after Nana and my sperm donor, whoever that was.

  Brian seems calm when he sets eyes on me. No anger, no nervousness, but also no cheer, as if I’m a useless stranger. Sadly, I’ll take it. Better than the usual rancor.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hello,” he responds in a reserved tone.

  So far, so good. He hasn’t leapt across the room and tried to strangle me. “Did you have a nice drive down?” I ask for lack of something better.

  “Fine,” Brian says. “Mark slept the whole time.”

  “Good.”

  And then we stare at each other for a few seconds, not sure where to go from here. His eyes dart toward the back door, obviously wanting to escape. Ten seconds, that’s his limit. Longer than I anticipated. “I’m going to … ” he nods toward the door.

  “Okay, I’m going to … ” I hold up my bags.

  He makes a break for the door, and me for my bedroom. I shut my door, but the sound of laughter glides through the open window. “Who were you talking to?” Nana asks through her laughs.

  “Bea’s back,” Brian answers in the vocal equivalent of a poker face.

  “She’s here?” a woman who I assume is my newish sister-in-law, Renata, asks.

  They’ve been together for close to five years, and I’ve met her three times. Each conversation lasted about two minutes with the usual stranger chitchat: weather, jobs, and traffic. She was perfectly pleasant but distant. God knows what he’s told her about me.

  As I set the bags on my bed, Nana steps up to my window, looking in through the screen. “Come outside and meet your nephew.”

  “I just got home,” I say, “give me a minute.”

  I need to find my emotional suit of armor and slap it on. I also need to lock away my sarcastic side in a lead box so as not to peeve off Brian in front of his new family. He’ll be on his best behavior, so I will return the favor. Though I may mention that time when he was seven and made a doody in the pool. It is my God-given right as his sister to embarrass him. It’s the normal thing to do.

  I brush my hair, re-apply lipstick and deodorant, and join the family. The three and a half of them sit around the circular green plastic table and chairs underneath the metal awning. Nana’s back yard is tiny with a square piece of concrete and grass everywhere else. It’s perfect for a dog and Brian asked for one every day for a month when we first moved here, but animals don’t like me. I come within two feet of one and they go nuts. Either barking, hissing, running away, or the occasional alpha male will try to attack me. It never bothered me until I fell for a werewolf. The fact I literally make his skin prickle and crawl does not bode well for our future. We were doomed from the start.

  Renata is one of those perfect people who are destined for the good life before they’re even born. Her father is an Oscar-winning movie producer, so she grew up with the best of everything. Her good looks come from her actress mother. Glossy brown hair, flawless olive skin, wide doe eyes, and even though she just gave birth, she’s skinnier than me. I really wish I dressed up today. Women like her always make me feel like a white trash hag with warts.

  Nana holds the newest Alexander in her arms, feeding him a bottle. He has his mother’s complexion and a thick head of black hair. Another looker. Nana gazes down at him with such love and adoration a huge smile surfaces on my face. I’ve never seen her so happy.

  “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?” Nana says in a high pitch sing-song reserved for deranged preschool teachers. The baby seems to like it though. He wiggles and waves his arms as if he’s dancing.

  “Hi … all,” I say.

  Renata glimpses up from her progeny to me, her smile never wavering. Brian glances at me, expressionless. “There you are,” Nana says. “Did you have fun?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You look really good,” Renata says.

  “Thank you. So do you.”

  “God no! I’m a fat slob,” she chuckles. I guess zooming up from size zero to a size four means it’s lipo time.

  “You’re beautiful,” Brian says to her. He reaches over to her and kisses her hand. Their eyes meet and you can practically see the love and adoration pouring out of them like Superman’s lasers. An invisible someone by the name of envy punches me in the gut, though my smile doesn’t waver. I don’t think I can do this right now, looking on as my perfect brother lives his perfect life. I save people, and he finds loopholes to earn millionaires more millions. He makes my life hell for years and gets a beautiful wife and baby. I’m stuck lusting after two mythical creatures. I don’t know, maybe a person like me who can do what I can isn’t meant for this. Maybe I’m just meant to stand on the sidelines protecting those who can have it all. Karma is such a lie.

  “Yeah, I never would have guessed you’d just had a baby,” I say.

  “Beatrice, come sit down,” Nana says, shifting the baby to her left arm. “You look like you’re about to flee.”

  “Actually I have—”

  “Beatrice,” Nana says with an undercurrent of anger, “sit down.”

  Ugh. I take the seat between Nana and Brian. Noticeable to only me, because I’m looking for it, Brian shifts in his chair as far from me as possible.

  “So, do you like your new job?” Renata asks.

  “It’s okay. Lotta travel and paperwork, but it’s fulfilling.”

  “Well, I’m so sorry you couldn’t make it to the wedding. I know it was short notice and all, but we would have loved to have had you there.”

  “Huh?” I ask.

  Brian smiles. “You were in Atlanta then, right?” He meets my eyes, not exactly pleading, more like threatening me to keep up his lie.

  No, I wasn’t invited to my only brother’s wedding. I didn’t even know about it until weeks after the fact. Heck, if I hadn’t flown home, the first time I’d ever get to meet my nephew would probably be at his high school graduation. Now, I could totally blow him out of the water, and boy would it feel good, but then we’d get into a fight. He’d storm out and Nana wouldn’t get quality baby time. Being good totally sucks sometimes.

  “No, I think it was Seattle,” I say. “I am really sorry I missed it.”

  “It’s perfectly alright,” Brian says. “We understood.”

  I want to roll my eyes but stop myself.

  “He is such a good baby,” Nana tells them. “How often does he wake up in the night?”

  “Twice,” Renata says. Then all of a sudden she entwines her fingers and presses her hands to her chest, tearing up. “We are so blessed.”

  This time I don’t suppress the eye roll.

  “We really are,” Brian says.

  Two flawless teardrops roll down Renata’s cheeks. She stands up, embarrassed by this outpouring of emotion. “Excuse me,” she says before disappearing into the house.

  “Is she okay?” I ask.

  “Hormones,” Brian says.

  “Give it a few weeks,” Nana says. “She’ll be fine.”

  Without the need to act as if we’re a normal functioning family for Renata, the three of us sit in uncomfortable silence. I’m starting to think comfortable silences are a myth. Brian’s foot shakes, Nana glances back and forth at us, and I pretend to find the concrete fascinating. The last time t
he three of us were together, Brian wound up in the hospital and I fled the state. We have now entered Awkward City.

  Brian takes it upon himself to fix the situation. “Is Kansas cold this time of year?”

  “It is winter,” I say with a fake smile. “Though it’s not as bad as Atlanta, or was it Seattle, in the summer?” First blood is mine.

  His jaw sets. “I had to tell her something.”

  “Or you could have, I don’t know, invited me?”

  “And risk you killing one of the guests because they ate the last shrimp? I don’t think so.”

  “Stop it!” Nana says. “Both of you. You’ll upset the baby.”

  He looks fine sucking on the bottle with his eyes closed.

  “You could have told me,” I say to Nana.

  “Brian wanted to be the one to do it,” she says. “And I am done being in the middle of you two. You were both wrong, but it’s over. It’s time to move on.”

  “She tried to kill me!”

  “It was an accident!”

  “It is time to move on,” Nana hisses in a low whisper. “We are a family. We are all we have! I want us to act like it, for God’s sake!” Now she’s on the verge of tears. Brian and I actually unite in our shock and empathy with both our mouths opening and eyes growing wide. Great, we’ve made Nana sad at Christmas. We suck.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “Don’t apologize to me,” she says, fighting back tears. “Apologize to each other.”

  I gaze at Brian, and he at me. We exchange a look that says, “I’m game if you are,” though he’ll fake the sincerity. “I’m sorry I almost killed you,” I say. “Accidently.” And I am. It’s haunted me for months.

  “And I’m sorry I called you all those horrible names.”

  I want to say “what about the wedding and all those years of acting like a jerk,” but restrain myself.

  “Okay, then,” Nana says. “Brian, I’m going to hand Mark to your sister. Is that alright?”

  The flash of panic I feel from him doesn’t show. “It’s fine.”

  “Don’t worry,” I say, “I’ve held more babies than you.”