I Bite She Sucks Bloom, Penelope (howl and other poems TXT) 📖

the yoga studios than she normally did for the last several weeks. In fact, some of them were well into the midnight hours, which I'd found suspicious, but she assured me was normal.

I could feel my detective-quality brain quickly putting the pieces together.

A boyfriend. She'd been out late because she was canoodling with a guy.

I clapped my hands excitedly and rushed over to hug her. "Don't be crazy. I'm super happy that you decided to get some action. You deserve it."

"Uh," Maisey said, hugging me briefly then pushing me back. "I did meet a guy. But it's more complicated than that. He's actually coming over in a few minutes, and I've honestly been trying to work up the courage or figure out how to even begin to explain this for weeks now. But I'm out of time, so here goes."

I studied her. "Is he one of those new things the kids these days are doing? Polyamorous or whatever? A swinger? Or does he have a nose ring? Because hey, as long as he makes you happy, he's-"

"He's a vampire, Sylvie."

I waited for the inevitable moment when my sister would grin and let me know she'd been making a joke. Granted, it wasn't really a funny one. If she wanted to go for shock factor, it would've been funnier to say he was a traveling shoe salesman or something at least remotely believable.

A few heartbeats passed and she was still stone-faced, just watching me for a reaction.

"Do you mean he's a goth?" I asked. "One of those ones who gets two little bite marks tattooed on his neck and cosplays? Because that's cool. I've read plenty of vampire books so I can totally get behind the enthusiasm."

Maisey carefully led me to the edge of the bed and sat me down. I was starting to get the feeling she was serious, but that didn't make any sense. My sister wasn't the practical joke type, so if she was serious...

"Look, Sylvie, I haven't admitted how long I've been working on this because it's embarrassing. After we lost mom, I decided I couldn't go through that again. I said I'd do anything I possibly could to keep you here and make you healthy. Anything."

"And I love you for it," I said. "But I'm not sure I see how this is connecting to the vampire boyfriend thing."

"Because I found this book. It started in a weird online forum. I met this guy in a chatroom when I was looking into some pretty desperate corners for ways to make you better. He said there was a book that might have some answers for me."

"And he just gave it to you? Or did you have to pay him?"

"He, uh..." Maisey's cheeks went a deep red. My sister was not the blushing type. "He wanted pictures of my feet. Specifically of me stepping on mayonnaise packets? I figured it was harmless since he didn't have my face or my name." She waved off the barrage of questions I was about to ask with a wave of her hand. "That part isn't important, Sylvie."

I wasn't sure I agreed, but I tried to expel that image from my brain and let her continue.

"So we went back and forth and eventually he gave me the book. It was like an alternate history, almost. Except it was specifically about vampire history. At first, I was disappointed because I thought it was just some kind of made-up story. But I spent weeks cross-referencing it and found all sorts of obscure facts that lined up with the information in this book. But eventually, it led me to a place that used to be a vampire's home in Chicago. Now it's a bar, and that's how I met Steve."

"Steve... Steve the vampire?"

"Yes," she said, still patient as ever. "Steve showed me it's all real. But they aren't as bad as the stories. But he said it would fix you. If you turned, I mean."

"Wait," I held up my hands. "Can you slow down for a second? I'm trying to process this and it's just not-"

There was a loud sound from the hallway. I heard thumping, a muffled shout, then a low, terrifying growl.

Maisey shot to her feet. "Steve," she whispered, rushing toward the door.

I grabbed her arm to hold her back. "Hey! Don't go out there. We don't know what that was."

The door burst open and a tall, thin man with his hood up stumbled in. He was bleeding heavily. "Run," he said weakly to Maisey.

A pair of men appeared in the doorway behind him, yanking him back into the hallway. Maisey tried to follow after him, but I barely managed to pull her back.

A large man with long, silver hair stepped into the room. He wore a sleek black suit and had pale gray eyes. He immediately reminded me of Lucian Malfoy from Harry Potter, which gave me an instant bad taste in my mouth.

"Well," he said in an American accent, which slightly dulled the Lucian impression. "Steve really has caused quite the mess, hasn't he?"

"Who are you?" Maisey demanded.

"My name is Lazarus, and I'm what's called a cleaner. When our kind make mutts like you," he pointed to Maisey, and the coldness contained in the gesture made my blood feel like it was icing over. "They send me to clean up the mess."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Maisey said, but even I could tell she was lying.

The man approached us, then sniffed deeply right next to my sister's face. He pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Then let me pretend you're not lying to my face. Our mutual friend, Steve, initiated the process of turning you into one of our kind. Steve did not possess authorization from the Coven to do this. That makes you a soon-to-be unwelcome addition to our ranks." With a shrug that looked like it was meant to be between friends, he winked. "I'm sure you can see why we can't allow that."

"What are you saying?" I