watching her.
“Hungry, but oddly enough—I don’t feel the urge to hunt. I’m thirsty, but usually I’m just as good with the bottles of blood as I am with a host. I was a pacifist in life, you know. And somehow . . . that seems to have rubbed off on me in death. Undeath? ” She laughed then, and I saw a little of the old Erin in the twinkle of her eyes. “I think I can control it, but I guess I should be watched a while longer to make sure.”
Completely at a loss for words, I dropped onto the bed beside her. After a moment, I shrugged. “Okay, if you want to work, I’ll put you to work. You can sleep at the bar during the day, in the safe room unless we need to use it. Nobody will find you there. I’ll teach you how to hunt so you don’t go over the edge if your instinct does flare up. I stick to the lowlifes, the scum. Or, if I have to choose an innocent, I curtail how much I drink and leave the person with very good memories and the desire for a thick steak.”
Erin grinned at me, her fangs barely showing. “Thank you. I’ve been so worried about how I was going to make it through the next year—let alone the next hundred years. I need to be busy. I’ve always worked, ever since I was eighteen. I didn’t have a chance to go to college and my parents kicked me out of the house, so I got a job and learned how to take care of myself. I scrimped and saved to open the Scarlet Harlot, and it about killed me to sell it to Tim, though I know he’ll do a great job with it.”
“Why did your parents kick you out?” I’d never really asked Erin about her background. I knew that her parents were both dead, but her sister and brother were alive. Apparently they didn’t like the thought of having a gay member of the family. Or a vampire.
“My parents were fanatics—very right-wing religious types. I wouldn’t join their church—it was more a cult than a church, actually. So they kicked me out when I graduated from high school. I stayed with a friend until I got a job and saved up enough for a studio apartment.”
Wincing, I couldn’t help but think that in some ways, Sephreh, our father, was just as bad. He was a bigot, too, hating Trillian, angry enough at Camille to kick her out.
“I’m sorry it came to that. But I’m your family now. And my sisters, and Tim and Jason. We’re here for you.”
She smiled shyly. “Thank you, Mis—Menolly.”
“So here’s what I need: someone to clean the upstairs guest rooms, to keep track of inventory, to sweep and mop the floors after we close. You willing to do that? I’ll pay you what I would pay anybody for the job.” I knew it was below Erin’s level of expertise, but it was all I could offer at the moment.
She, however, seemed thrilled. “I’d love it. Can I rent my own place again? Now that I don’t have to go back to Sassy’s?”
“No, you don’t have to go back to Sassy’s, but as far as getting your own place, I think you should live at the bar for a while. But I promise that you’ll have more freedom. We’ll fix up one of the guest rooms upstairs for you at night. You can watch television and read, play on the computer—I’ll buy you a laptop. And you’ll sleep in the panic room.”
If we needed the safe room to hold another demon or some such creature, I could bring Erin back to the house.
She smiled, looking content. “I’m thirsty,” she said, her voice rustling.
I gazed into her eyes. Erin might think she had her predator under control, but she still had a ways to go. But for now, there was blood in the fridge and it tasted like beef stew.
“Listen to me, Erin. I’m going to do my best to help you grow into your new life. But if you ever, ever raise a fang against my family—anyone on this property or who belongs to my family—I will stake you. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “I don’t ever want to become like Sassy has. Promise me that?”
“I promise, if you do, I’ll put a stop to it.” Falling silent
Erin McCarthy
D.K. Holmberg
Selena Blake
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Michael Knight
G.B. Brulte, Greg Brulte, Gregory Brulte
T. L. Schaefer
Phyllis Bentley
Jean Shepherd
Amanda Lynn