Page 20 of Vampire's Vixen

The words had been said smoothly enough, but they had set my alarms going. When I had managed to get to sleep, I had felt a vague sense of dread filtering through my dreams.

Astra put down the turner she’d been using to flip the eggs. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not sure. But Zandre…I wish I’d just said no and turned him away. He worries me, and I think that he might be dangerous. At least when it comes to one woman in particular.” I told her everything that Zandre had told me. I usually kept my consultations private, but I still felt like he might make a stupid move when it came to Denise Rober.

“You need to talk to her, as soon as possible.”

“What about Zandre? Is there anybody I should talk to about this?” I wasn’t sure what would happen if I went to the police. What was there to report? A vampire who was obsessed with a woman he was convinced was his late wife from a couple hundred years ago? If he’d been any normal man, the cops wouldn’t do anything. Not until he took some sort of action.

“Talk to her. If on the off chance she does have feelings for him, or if she shows an interest, then maybe he’s right. We can’t discount the possibility, no matter how small. If not, then you see how he reacts.” Astra turned back to the eggs. “Damn, they’re overcooked.”

“I don’t care, as long as they aren’t burnt. All right, I’ll contact her and see what she says. I just worry because with him a vampire, and her a dog shifter, he has a lot more strength and power than she has. Auntie, my alarm bells are going off like crazy.”

“All the more reason for you to touch base with her.” Astra slid the eggs onto two plates, then added toast and bacon. “Breakfast is ready. I already fed Dahlia and Miss P.” She carried our plates over to the nook while I made our breakfast lattes.

I pulled out my tablet and sat down at the table, bringing up the number of the Shifter Creek Preschool Academy, then unlocked my phone and punched in the number. A couple rings later, someone answered.

“Shifter Creek Preschool Academy, Lana speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hi,” I said. “I’m trying to get in touch with a teacher there. Denise Rober. Is she available?”

“She’s in class right now. May I take a message?” Lana asked.

I thought for a moment. “Actually, yes. My name is Maisy Tripwater, and I really need to talk to Ms. Rober. Tell her…it’s just important. It’s about someone she may have once known.” I left my number, asking Lana to relay the message as soon as possible, then hung up. “I hope she calls back.”

“I do, too, love. Maybe you should talk to Stuart, privately. Not on record. Get his advice?” She took a bite of her eggs and grimaced. “These are like rubber. I can remake them if you like.”

“No, I’m fine,” I said. “And that’s actually a good idea. I’m just afraid that if I don’t take appropriate measures, something will happen.”

Astra stared at me, frowning. “You seem hypersensitive to the situation. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but…did anything ever happen to you, to make you this concerned? Is it a vampire thing? Or…”

I knew what she was asking. I shook my head.

“Not to me, not directly. But I had a friend in Seattle. Leslie was stalked by a guy who had convinced himself she was in love with him. She didn’t know he was alive, to be honest—not more than to say ‘hey, how are you’ on the bus…that sort of thing, until the guy started showing up where she worked, and running into her in the grocery store, the movie theater—you name it, he’d show up there when she did.”

“Did she talk to the police?” Astra asked.

“No, she didn’t. She did tell Dan and me about it, and we tried to convince her to contact the police, but she refused. Leslie thought he’d just lose interest. She didn’t want to make a scene, and she thought he’d move on.”

“I take it he didn’t.”

“No, he didn’t. When she started going out with somebody else, the stalker—his name was Cliff—broke into her apartment and he raped her, beat her into unconsciousness, and left her for dead. I found her. We were supposed to go shopping together, and I dropped by to her apartment to pick her up. I found the door ajar, and I went in. She was on the floor, covered in bruises and blood. The medics managed to save her, but maybe it could have been prevented. If Dan and I had gone to the police for her, or if we just pushed her harder…”

“Did they catch this Cliff?” Astra asked.

I shook my head. “The cops broke into his apartment and found him dead. He’d shot himself and left a long, rambling note about how she’d driven him to suicide by not loving him. All sorts of victim blaming. At least he spared the city the cost of a trial and keeping him alive behind bars. But Leslie…she withdrew after that. She stopped talking to most of her friends, including us.”

The memory still stung.

“So, you feel responsible?” Astra asked.

“It’s not that simple. Dan and I did what we could, but where’s the point where doing the right thing ends, and letting others make their own choices begins? Should we have gone to the cops? Did we do the right thing by accepting her refusal? I know the final responsibility ends at Cliff’s feet, but could we have stopped him from harming her? It’s one big ball of wax that I don’t fully understand.”

I frowned, finishing my latte. “So, likening this case to that one, what if I do nothing and Zandre attacks her? What if she refuses him, and he…say…turns her into a vampire?”

“What if you do what you can, and then accept that there are dozens of potential endings to this situation, and every single move made by each person involved alters the outcome?” Astra picked up her dishes and carried them to the sink.

I followed, with mine. “True enough.”

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