Page 30 of Fangs with Benefits

Dylan’s eyes go wide and he whistles a long sound. ‘I fucking knew you liked her.’

I don’t deny it, instead letting my head thud against the wall behind me.

‘Impossible not to,’ I repeat. What’s not to like about Molly Mason?

‘So, what’s the move, then?’ Dylan asks after a few minutes of quiet contemplation. ‘We calling your sister yet?’

‘No, not yet. I think I just have to… keep my distance.’

Easier said than done when I still rely on her daily to help me with my job. Plus, if I am honest with myself, I don’t want to stay away from her–Molly is a glowing presence, like our very own sun in the basement office. Even when she’s grumpy I want to be near her.

It’s for the best if I keep my distance; these feelings are dangerous ones and I know where they lead. To things like passion and love and longing for infinite companionship.

It can’t be. Can never be.

Dylan is my best friend, and I will forever be grateful for his insistence on befriending me a decade ago. He barrelled through all my best efforts to guard my heart from any mortal again, and I value his determination and companionship more than I can say. But I still ache knowing Dylan will die one day and I will live on, and on, and on–alone, never rotting, but withering inside just the same.

Molly will die, too–lovely, lovely Molly. I feel myself slipping into my familiar longings, fruitlessly wishing to be human, wishing to be human with her.

Dylan says nothing, but pats my knee before retreating into the kitchen to warm up some dinner for himself and microwave a blood bag for me.

When he settles back on the couch next to me, he hands me a mug that reads Homosexual Agenda and I sip warm blood out of it while he turns on another movie. All the while, I think of red cheeks, plump pink lips and a crooked front tooth on the nicest smile I’ve ever seen.

From: Jeannine Mason

To: Molly June Mason

Date: 21 October 2026, 11.14 a.m.

Subject: FWD: Spooky Good Savings!

Hi dear,

Your favourite bras are on sale, do you want one for your birthday? Speaking of which, what are you doing for the big day? Cake, I hope! Thirty was my favourite year because it was the year I had you.

Love you, nugget!

Mom

P.S. Did you decide if you’re coming for Thanksgiving next month? Plz call me and let me know.

Chapter 11

Molly

‘Elijah is avoiding me,’ I tell Devi, my voice startling her to close the tab of the decidedly not-work-appropriate document she was working on. Seeing it’s just me, she relaxes, then processes what I just said and purses her lips. Her hair is pulled half up into two little space buns, effortlessly cool and beautiful, as is her way.

‘How do you figure?’

I lean on the counter that she decorates with little seasonal statues and lower my voice as if he could possible hear me from across the office. ‘He hasn’t had a question for me in two full days.’

‘Gasp,’ she says dryly. ‘Maybe he’s learning? Isn’t that the goal of the buddy thing? One to teach, one to learn?’

‘No, he’s not–well, maybe he’s learning a little, but he still has questions, he’s just asking Kenneth instead and then when Kenneth is stumped, Kenneth asks me. It’s very inefficient.’

‘Maybe he just doesn’t want to bother you any more after you’ve been so prickly?’

‘I’m not prickly,’ I say, but I totally am. She holds her tongue but smiles like I’m a toddler she’s caught lying. ‘Whatever, sometimes I’m prickly, but it’s bothering me more that he’s not coming to me first.’ Saying it aloud makes me squint, realisation dawning that three weeks ago I would have rejoiced to be in this predicament. In fact, I lamented to her about just how annoying I thought he was.