1FUNERALS FOR SQUIRRELS
BRENNAN’S JOURNAL
For plausible deniability purposes, everything contained in this journal is hypothetical, theoretical, and/or fictional. Yep.
Questions
Who turned me?
Blood: Animal? Human? How much? How often? Regular food, too?
Other vampires? Other supernatural???
Nocturnal? Sleep?
Garlic? Sunlight? Silver? Holy water?
Sparkles?????
IMMORTALITY???????
It took Brennan Brooks forty-eight hours, six coffees, and approximately eight thousand pages of reading to come to the conclusion that there were too many goddamn books about vampires, and none of them came with an instruction manual.
In the far corner on the “silent study” third floor of Folz Library, Brennan sat on the carpet in the folklore and mythology aisle at the center of a tornado of books, stacks rising up into towers. He wore a flannel over anold band T-shirt and was currently testing whether vampires needed sleep or needed to shower by—you guessed it—neither sleeping nor showering. Signs pointed toward not needing sleep and desperately needing a shower, but more observation would be needed.
In Brennan’s experience, there were no problems that books didn’t have answers for. Unfortunately, being turned into a vampire during an accident you didn’t fully remember did not have its ownFor Dummiesmanual.
But Brennan had no trouble sinking into a fog of research, lost in a book about vampirism in Serbia and Bulgaria, which was fascinating but ultimately useless. His throat burned with a persistent thirst, his head throbbed, and every sound and smell was like a tidal wave. The soft snoring of some poor soul already behind on work for the semester was like a chain saw, the rhythmic squeak of a library cart like a piercing alarm, footsteps coming to a stop—
A shadow darkened the text and Brennan squinted upward, blinking away the dissonance of being rudely ripped back to reality.
“If you don’t mind my saying so” came a rich Southern lilt, light with amusement, “I think you’re missing a few key texts in the genre.”
Standing at the end of the aisle with a library cart, a guy arched a brow. Brennan processed what he must be seeing. The mess of books, not subtle in their titles ofThe Vampyre, Vampires and Vampirism, Les Vampires, The Legend & Romance of the Vampire,a dozen other things featuring the words “vampire,” “blood,” “monsters,” and so on. Brennan half-heartedly covered the book he was reading with an arm and blinked up at the fluorescent lights.
“Um, what?” Brennan said.
“Vampires, yeah?”
The boy had curly brown hair, delicate features disrupted by bushy brows, and light skin a bit more tanned than Brennan’s ghastly pale. He smiled, encouraging, and it was familiar. Brennan couldn’t place it. They must have had a class together, or crossed paths on campus. He looked like if Timothée Chalamet had a less punchable face. Maybe that was it?
Brennan squinted at the guy. “You have recommendations?” His voice was scratchy, his mouth dry. He was thirsty again. He cleared his throat.
The boy kept smiling, but it was sly. “It looks like you’re lacking in the trashy YA romance department. NoTwilight Saga? Or have you already read it?”
Brennan deflated and avoided rolling his eyes, narrowly.
“No, I have not. I don’t think that will help with this particular project. Thanks, though.” He returned his attention to his pile of destruction.
He meant it as dismissal, but the boy left the cart at the end of the aisle and crossed toward Brennan and the stacks of books between them. He wore a ringer T-shirt with the logo for a coffee roastery, and the bitter, nutty smell of espresso lingered on him. He had one AirPod hanging from his ear, buzzing with some indie-sounding music Brennan could hear but didn’t recognize. He smelled too good to be normal, which meant Brennan wasreallythirsty.
“Come on, where’sThe Vampire Diaries?Vampire Academy?House of Night?” he continued, and at Brennan’s increasingly blank look, added, “Or at least—Interview with the Vampire?”
“Okay, Ihaveread Anne Rice,” Brennan defended himself. “But I don’t think half-naked werewolf love triangles are going to help me right now.”
“Fine, if you don’t do it for the research, do it for the experience.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Brennan said, and didn’t bother hiding his amusement.
