Page 67 of Dead & Breakfast
“They’re that way?” Arthur pointed as well, not daring to tear his eyes from the raccoon’s.
The raccoon gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“Excellent! Thank you.” Arthur gave the raccoon a half bow before he remembered himself and straightened up. “You can go about your business now, citizen.”
The raccoon returned to the dumpster, the banana peel falling off its head with an almighty flop.
“Well, I hope this isn’t a wild-goose chase,” Arthur said, mounting the bike again. “Geese!” He snapped his fingers. “They don’t like vampires…although I suppose they don’t like anyone. Hateful birds.” He glanced toward Sal, waiting for his rebuttal, but it never came.
Instead, Sal watched him with wide eyes, mouth agape.
“What’s wrong?” Arthur searched the space around them for what might have shocked his husband so—an attacker lurking in the shadows or someone wearing white after Labor Day. “Sal?”
“You talked to them! You commanded creatures of the night!”
Arthur blinked. “I wouldn’t say I commanded them, exactly.” Discomfort rippled along his arms, a chill he couldn’t quite place. He’d never exhibited any prowess with vampiric powers before, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He was quite comfortable with Sal being the expert in that particular arena and he wasn’t sure what a change in that dynamic might mean for them. “I’m sure they were responding to you, not me. You’re the one with powers, after all.”
“I don’t think so.” Salvatore floated up to the bike, taking a seat behind Arthur. “You did all the talking.”
“But I only—” Arthur stopped as he made eye contact with one of the raccoons behind them. Perhaps he was seeing things, but he could’ve sworn it winked at him.Winked!That was odd, certainly, but it wasn’t proof of any latent vampire powers awakening within him. “It was a coincidence. Nothing more.”
“Of course,” Sal said without an ounce of humor. Blessedly, helet the matter drop as they pedaled in the direction the raccoon had indicated.
Arthur didn’t stop thinking about it, though. He felt the same as he always did at night—stronger, faster, lighter on his feet, with sharper vision. But he didn’t feel like he could summon a swarm of bats or order wolves around like he’d seen powerful vampires do. He knew vampiric powers developed with age, an echo of one’s sire, but he’d begun to suspect maybe talent might skip a generation. His own sire was formidable, but he himself, not so much. He’d decided long ago he didn’t want to be powerful. He just wanted peace.
A light tapping on his shoulder followed by Sal’s voice saying his name interrupted his thoughts, and he squeezed the brakes.
“If you can extract your head from the clouds, I do believe we’ve arrived at our destination.” Sal gestured at the Trident Falls welcome sign, which had been in a constant state of mid-redesign since they’d moved there.
Two boys stood amid an impressive collection of spray paint. Arthur immediately recognized them as the pair who’d hassled him at the coffee shop. One of them, who had shaggy blond hair and a neon-pink hoodie, added finishing touches to theFallspart of the sign. He’d changed theFto aBwhile keeping the font the same.
Sal snorted a laugh, but Arthur thought this wasn’t the time to be indulging in puerile jokes.
Their approach hadn’t been stealthy, what with the teal bicycle and Arthur’s hasty braking, so by the time they were in comfortable speaking range, both boys had put down their cans of spray paint and were waiting.
“Isn’t it past old people’s bedtimes?” said the ginger boy.
“Luke, they’re vampires, they stay up all night,” Pink Hoodie said to him.
“Oh, right.” Luke, the ginger, scowled and crossed his arms. “You better not have called the cops on us.”
“Feeling guilty about something?” Arthur adjusted his shoulders and stood as tall as he could to convey a sense of boldness. These two might have turned on Brody, but perhaps they’d think twice about attacking a vampire. Two, in fact.
“No.” Pink Hoodie laughed. “We made this sign better.”
“I’m not talking about the sign,” Arthur said. “I’m talking about attempted murder.”
This at last chased the mocking smiles from their faces.
“We didn’t have anything to do with that,” Pink Hoodie said, “and if you want to ask us questions, you need a warrant.”
“Sawyer, they’re not cops,” Luke said in a low voice.
“Shut up, I know that,” Sawyer shot back. “Don’t correct me in front of bloodsuckers.”
“You corrected me first!” Glaring at Arthur and Salvatore, Luke said, “My dad says vampires killed him, anyway. Why are you talking to us?”
Arthur’s heart sank. He hoped Brody was still alive, though they might have gotten news otherwise. “You’re his friends, or youwere, before he changed his stance on the paranormal issue, I suppose.”
