Page 56 of Fangs & Fur

By the time I finally let go of Xander and step on shaky legs, Harlan is speaking closely with the cashier who still looks painfully unbothered, as if this entire ordeal happens every afternoon for her.

“Here, sweetheart.” Xander picks up my jacket and helps me back into it, careful to keep his hands clear of my sore bicep.

Cassius and Ambrose toss an unconscious Richard over the back of Ambrose’s bike despite the vampire’s dispute of having to haul him back to the house.

“I don't want his slimy hands touching my baby,” Ambrose groans while petting the handle of his bike. “I don’t let anyone ride her.”

Cassius whistles for Harlan while clearly ignoring Ambrose’s whims, and the small vamp chews on the last of his ice cream cone before speeding from the store and hurrying away with Cassius back to the club for his own bike.

Time slows into something thick and distorted; my mind only catching pieces of what’s happening around me. I don’t feel myself leaving the shop, or climbing onto Xander’s bike. All I feel are his hands, steady and sure, wrapping my arms around his waist before we disappear down the road.

The cold air feels nice in my lungs as I lean against Xander’s back and shut my eyes, listening to the subtle thump of his heart. My eyes are so heavy and all I want to do is sleep forever.

I didn’t even intend on finding Moonfell, and I had hoped to begin a quiet chapter of my life where I could focus on my books and Pumpkin. Where I could drink hot coffee every morning and go for strolls through the forest. But then I think of how lonely that life would have been. I’d have never met Xander, or Tyler, or the rest of the vamps that drive beside us as we twist and turn through the streets. Pumpkin would never have had a friend like Nyx or a house to chase ghosts around all day.

I sigh and drink in the darkness of the night that surrounds the street. After everything that’s happened these past few weeks, deep down in the warmth of my soul, I realize I couldn't be more grateful for all the wonderful people I've met. Especially Xander.

My mind flashes to the moment he opened that front door with his skin-tight black shirt covering those muscly pecs, and the way he smiled down at me as if he already knew exactly who I was before I could even open my mouth. Or how he clutched Pumpkin against his chest as he gave me a tour of the house without a second thought.

Every moment of my life leading up to that day, I have been swimming upstream. Either running from rejection or hiding from it altogether. My family never gave me a chance, and Richard never let me breathe. It was always either the disappointing son or the quiet boyfriend. Maybe humans are the problem after all? Since the only people who have accepted me without a questioning glance or subtle nudge have been non-humans. Witches and vampires. Who would have guessed?

Xander changes gears as we pull into our street, and the group slows. I lift my head and watch as the house with ivy climbing its walls and shadows darting across the windows comes into view.

Yet despite its usual gothic energy, something isn’t quite right. Xander tenses under my arms and he clutches the brakes. So does everyone else as we reach the foot of the driveway.

A small, hooded figure sits at the bottom of the porch stairs with their head in their hands. Their shoulders shake, and for a moment they look as if they’re about to topple forwards.

Xander comes to a stop and rips his helmet off, sniffing in deep lungfuls of air, and a growl permeates through his chest. “It’s been here.”

“Recently?” Cassius slides up beside us, his head on a swivel.

Xander shakes his head. “A few hours ago.” His gaze sweeps across the figure at the stairs. “Milo?”

Lifting his head, I’m met with the sad, tired eyes of the quietest most mysterious vampire of the colony. He looks miserable as his bottom lip quivers and he slowly turns towards the house, hand raised and finger pointing at the door.

We all follow his lead only to find the wooden panels of the door shredded and slashed with claw marks. Hundreds upon hundreds of scars litter the sides of the house like jagged graffiti. Some marks even reach high above the first floor, as if the creature had tried to climb the wall to reach the upper windows.

“Are you hurt?” Cassius kills his engine and races to where Milo sits. “Are you hurt?”

Milo simply shakes his head yet his eyes seem to keep landing back on me every few seconds as if he needs to know my every move. “Gone,” He replies.

Cassius sighs and Ambrose hauls Richard’s lax body over his shoulder as if the fully grown man weighs a feather. “Well, Tyler’s wards stopped it from getting inside but I want this thing dead before it has a chance to try again.”

“Agreed,” Xander supplies, and switches his bike off before helping me down and out of my helmet.

“Where do you want this one?” Ambrose thumbs towards Richard, who's beginning to dribble in his unconscious state.

We all merge as a group as we step inside the house and shut the ruined door behind us, despite the many gaps of broken, serrated wood.

“In the living room.” Xander squeezes my shoulders before turning me to face him. A look of concern marks his beautiful face. “You can go upstairs if you’d like? My coffin is the safest place in the house.”

My gaze darts over to where Ambrose and Cassius position Richard on the couch before patting him down and removing everything from his pockets.

“He’s innocent,” I whisper to Xander. “He’s just in his head. Richard doesn’t know anything about this world. He’s just human.”

A scuffle behind us and a chuckle echoing from Cassius’s chest has us all turning. With his hand tucked into the pocket of Richard’s coat, the large vampire pulls out a small mound of material. Opening his palm, Cassius inspects the treasure.

“Just human, my ass.” Cassius lifts what looks to be a terribly made voo-doo doll. With straw and twigs entangled with twine, the body is barely holding together. And the head is stitched together with red yarn. It could be mistaken for trash at a glance.