Page 17 of The Vampire in the Potting Shed

Plastic from the phone casing bit into my palm. “Both?”

“In for a penny, in for a pound.” Her smile was infectious. “How do you feel about pizza?”

To lessen the odds of us being overheard, Sloane suggested we eat at The Pie Shop on Pillory. Human owned and always with a line out the door, the bustling pizza parlor was the ideal spot to grab lunch and some privacy. And, since the owner was a client, she made sure I always got a table.

Ms. Putnam’s schnauzer, Bonnie, was fourteen and too old for popping Trazodone before nail trims, but she also wanted to strike the match that let her watch the world burn. Not a great combo.

Honestly, she would probably get along with Myrtle like a house afire.

Anyway, I earned Bonnie’s tolerance if not trust, and it won me a client for life in Ms. Putnam.

The restaurateur and her spicy pup formed yet another brick in the wall I was building between the business my last name raked in and the treasured clients I acquired for myself.

Seated at my favorite booth, prime real estate for people-watching, Sloane and I put in our orders.

Two of the large three cheese caprese calzones for her and a small pesto prosciutto pizza for me.

“Remember when the dogs went nuts?” I twisted my straw wrapper into a ring. “And I blamed an owl?”

“Yes.” Her lips quirked to one side. “Are you going to tell me what really spooked them?”

“I found a vampire.” I crumpled the paper. “In the potting shed.”

“What was he doing?” She tilted her head. “There’s nothing in there worth stealing.” Her eyes shot wide as they landed on me. “Do you think he was there for the dog? Or for you?”

“If he was, someone got to him first.” I thought back to how I found him. “There was bloodeverywhere.”

“Are you sure it was his?” She chewed on the end of her straw. “Heisa vampire.”

“I saw the wound.” I had no doubt if I had looked closer, I would have determined wolf teeth were to blame. “I told him I would call for help, but he didn’t want that. Then I heard you, panicked, and covered my tracks.”

“That’s why you went back.” She nodded along. “You were going to check on him.”

“I couldn’t just leave him.” I puffed out my cheeks. “But when I got there, he was gone.”

“No one who lost that much blood would be that spry.” She rapped the table with her knuckle. “The bleach?”

“That wasn’t me.” I held up my hands. “I went to see the shed in daylight and found it spotless.”

“None of this makes sense.” She rested her chin on her fist. “And that’s before you mix in the dog.”

“There’s one more thing.” I winced as I fished the card from my purse. “He left this under the register.”

“You hid this?” The color drained from her cheeks. “From yourfather?”

“Yep.” I felt a tad woozy admitting it. “I did.”

“Why?” She dropped the paper like it had burned her. “Why would you cover for some random guy?”

“I don’t know.” I tipped my head back like the answers were etched into the wood beams on the ceiling. “I felt violated when Myrtle appeared at GSG, but then Dad showed up with his sentinels, and I felt even more violated. Then I got mad because he always makes such a big deal out of everything, and I wanted, I don’t know, to do one thing for myself.” I thumped my head on the back of the booth. “And then I found the vampire, and I thought he was dying—or whatever—and needed my help.”

“This is…a lot.” Sloane raised an arm, and our waitress popped in. “We need a pitcher of beer.”

Alcohol didn’t do much for shifters unless we drank copious amounts of it, but it could take the edge off our mutual anxiety.

“I understand if you don’t want any part of this mess.” I shoved my water glass back and forth, unable to look at her. “Mymess. I am a hot mess, and I made a mess, and I’m sorry I dragged you into it.”

“Ana.” She gripped my hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

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