“A hundred and five?”
“It was the first number that popped into my head.”
“Oddly specific.”
Allison shrugged and bit into her smoked roast beef and raspberry jelly sandwich on, of course, a slender baguette. And because I regularly fed on her—which not only enhanced my strength but also increased her own witchy powers—Allison and I also had the closest of all telepathic links.
She seemed to revel in that. Me, not so much. Luckily, she and I had become best friends—and yes, to my extreme annoyance, she even used the word “besties.” Anyway, Allison had proven herself as a good and loyal friend, and a steady source of blood. Yeah, our relationship was...unorthodox. But we both benefited. Symbiosis at its best.
Except for the “bestie” part, of course. In fact, I might be the only bloodsucker on earth who has a bestie.
My life, I thought.
“Quit bitching,” said Allison between bites. “You should be so lucky. I happen to come in handy.”
The next thought that crossed my mind, I regretted, but there it was, and she picked up on it instantly.
“And I am not needy, Samantha Moon. I have a full, rich life, of which you should be honored to be a part.”
“Oh, brother.”
“Well, you should.”
“Fine,” I said, picking up my own sandwich. “I’m honored as hell.”
“Don’t patronize me...”
It went on like this throughout the next five minutes, all while I ate the first half of my sandwich. It had been over a year since I had been given the gift of food and sunlight, thanks to two special rings, one on each hand. The rings had done much to give me back my life. Eating lunch in the light of day with my friend was a gift beyond measure.
“Okay, that’s more like it,” said Allison, beaming.
“Happy?” I said.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Now tell me about Nancy Home Wrecker.”
“Nancy Pearson,” I said. “And she’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? Didn’t she steal your husband and ruin your life?”
“A lot of things contributed to ruining my life. And he was on his way out anyway.”
“That’s a lame excuse, Sam.”
“Well, the guy is dead, and what happened can’t be changed...and, well, it turns out she’s not that bad.”
Allison, who always got a bit jealous over my other friends, set her fork down. “I thought you were going to tell me about her sadistic ex-boyfriend, not that she wasn’t that bad.”
She rattled on like this for the next few minutes, all while I consumed the second half of my sandwich. When Allison was done ranting and raving, and when I had convinced her that no one would be replacing her “bestie” status anytime soon—which seemed to mollify her—I told her what I’d learned about Nancy’s ex-boyfriend.
“A werewolf?” said Allison, perhaps a little too loudly.
I shushed her. “Yes.”
“Have you talked to Kingsley about him?”
“I will soon,” I said. “He had a lunch meeting today.”
“So, I was your second choice?” asked Allison.
“You’re in rare needy form today,” I said.
“I’m not nee—” She paused. “Okay, maybe a little. What can I say? You either love me or leave me.”
“I love you,” I said. “For now.”
She stuck out her tongue at me as the waitress came by and cleared our table. I enjoyed everything about going out to eat. I treasured the small moments, even the waitress clearing the table, asking if I wanted a refill on my iced tea. I just loved it all. I loved the chatter of women from a nearby table; they were insurance adjusters from the nearby Mercury Insurance office. One of them kept glancing at me, a tall redhead who reminded me of Nicole Kidman. Some people sense I am different; some people have enhanced psychic abilities. They may not understand why I am different, but they feel it, and give me strange looks. Like the redhead just now. I smiled at her. She blushed and gave me a half-smile and busied herself with her salad.
When the waitress was gone, Allison leaned over the table said, “So he’s a bad werewolf?”
“A bad doggy?”
She giggled. “Yes.”
“You could say that,” I said.
In fact, Nancy had said more than that. Apparently, her ex-boyfriend did more than transform each full moon. He killed, too.
“Killed, how?” she asked, reading my thoughts.
“In a cabin in the woods.”
“We have woods here?”
“Arrowhead, ding dong,” I said.
“Oh, right, and don’t be mean.”
I sighed, and continued. “Apparently, he...preps for his turnings.”
“Preps, how?”
“With bodies.”
“Live bodies?”
“Yes.”
“But how...”
“Hikers mostly. Kidnapped, drugged, locked up in his cabin’s basement. Where he, in turn, locks himself up each full moon.”
“And then what?” asked Allison, eyes wide. “Wait, I don’t wanna—”
“He feasts on them, of course.”
“...know,” she finished, turning a little green.
The waitress came by with our bill. I thought paying was the least I could do, since Allison suddenly looked traumatized. Hearing about a werewolf exploring his true nature—his powerful nature—and feasting on weakling humans, didn’t quite haunt me the same way it did Allison. I also knew this was the demon inside me. Or, rather, her influence on me. Or was it? These days, I wasn’t quite sure. This should have concerned me more than it did.
“Well, it concerns me, Sam,” she said. “And thanks for lunch. I think.”
“Oh, cheer up,” I said.
“You sound oddly perky for someone who just told me that a local werewolf has a kill room up in Arrowhead.”
“Not perky...intrigued.”
“Okay, that might be even worse. And he confessed to all of this while asleep?”
“Apparently so.”
“What are you going to do next?”
I looked at the time on my cell. “Meet with Kingsley. You know, my first choice.” I winked as we stood.
“I hate you, Samantha Moon.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re right, I don’t...but don’t be surprised if you push me away someday into the arms of another bestie.”