I gave an awkward little laugh. “Excuse me?”

“You know, creatures like you give vampires a bad name. Some of us are just trying to live our unlives here. But then you go and start killing your own kind because you think, ‘Oh, I’m a vampire, I guess I have to do something evil today.’”

Missy giggled gaily and quickly led me away. “You have to watch Hadley. She gets a bit snippy when her iron gets low.”

“I think I just need to go, Missy. It was really nice of you to invite me, but between the Walter thing and the Dick stories, I’m just not going to be able to connect in the way I think you want me to. By the way, Dick and I are just friends.”

“Oh, honey, don’t say another word.” She clucked, holding both of my arms in a sisterly clench. She shot me a sympathetic look and shook her head. “And don’t worry, I don’t believe a word of it. I mean, you’re hardly his type.”

It took me a second to realize I’d been insulted.

“It’s just going to take a little longer to fit in with the new crowd, that’s all,” she assured me. “You know, it might help if you were a little more closely connected to the community. I have a lot of places here in Deer Haven still available. It’s a very vamp-friendly neighborhood, close to the shopping district. I’d be happy to show you something in your price range. A lot of the vampires here tonight are going to be moving in soon, so you’d already know some of your neighbors. Besides, it must be awfully lonely rattling around that old house by yourself. We don’t want you to become some undead cliché, now, do we, honey?”

I surveyed the room in all of its prefab splendor and realized I’d rather set myself on fire than live near any of these vampires. And the house creeped me out. It was sterile, artificial, like silk flowers on a grave. Missy had technically never “lived” there, and it showed. River Oaks might have the occasional roof leak and mold issues, but at least I was comfortable there. I knew the history of every room. I had memories there, a legacy. I couldn’t just give it up to live in a perfectly decorated little box.

“Wow, you can take the Realtor to a party—”

“But she’ll still be a Realtor.” Missy giggled and took another sip of her drink. She gave a cheery little wave to a guest who passed by.

“I’m really happy at River Oaks. It’s sort of a family-responsibility thing. I couldn’t just give it up. But thanks.”

She gave an apologetic little shrug. “Well, you can’t blame me for trying. Your aunt Jettie felt the same way. But if you ever change your mind, you let me know, OK? I could find a really nice place for you, something more suited to your needs. Now, I should probably see to some of the other guests. Just stay a little while longer, please? I want to see you mixing and mingling, all right? Good girl.”

Missy wandered into the crowd and left me staring at an orange glass sculpture that looked like a foot. God, I hoped it was a foot. Without the social buffer Missy provided, I was left standing in the middle of the room, looking at other vampires’ backs. I wandered into the kitchen and appreciated the enormous decorative bottles of vegetables preserved in olive oil. I finished off my drink and calculated the amount of time I had to stay before I could politely catapult myself out the front door.

Through the sliding glass door, on the back deck, I saw a tall, lanky vampire in blue jeans and a plaid cowboy shirt leaning against the railing. Dick looked terminally bored. Whom Missy thought he was going to “network with” at this shindig, I had no idea. The fact that he was probably enjoying himself less than I was was some consolation, considering it was possible that he was telling people he’d done dirty bendy things to me. Since no one was paying any attention to me, I didn’t think it would hurt my reputation further if I talked to him.

Dick turned away from the moonlit, perfectly manicured lawn and took a long pull from his beer bottle as I slid the glass door open. “Hey there, Stretch.”

“Do you mind telling me why there are stories circulating about you and me committing indecent acts in the photo booth at the mall?”

Dick snickered. “That’s funny. I heard it was the bathroom at Denny’s.”

“You knew?” I smacked his arm, using the closed-fist “frogging” technique Jenny used to use on me.

“Ow!” he yelled. “Yes, I knew. Missy told me she’s heard it from a bunch of people! And then some ass-hat tax attorney in there asked if it was true that you had ‘exotic piercings.’” As my face contorted in alternate waves of disbelief and nausea, he assured me, “I told him no!”

“You knew people were saying those things about me, and you didn’t do anything?” I cried. “You couldn’t have told me that your girlfriend knew?”

“They were saying those things about me, too!” he exclaimed, laughing as he halfheartedly fended off my blows. “You don’t hear me complaining.”

“People say those things about you all the time.” I grunted, hitting him again.

“Well, yes, but I’m used to getting credit for the bad things I’ve actually done, not just things I’ve thought about.”

“Do you have any idea who would say stuff like this?”

“You mean, besides me, because it would really piss off Gabriel?”

“It’s not you, though, right? Because I would have to hurt you.”

Dick reached into a little blue Coleman cooler and pulled out a beer for me. “It’s not me, but only because I hadn’t thought of it. I wouldn’t get all worked up about it, Stretch. I mean, all of these vampires don’t have anything better to do than sit around gossiping like a bunch of old fishwives. It’ll blow over as soon as someone else lands on their radar. Just ignore it.”

I used the deck railing to pop off the cap and clink the bottle against his. “This has been an extremely crappy week.”

“Well, tell your good friend Dick all about it,” he said, patting a spot on the railing. “It’ll keep me from having to talk to any of those yuppie freaks in there.”

“What are you even doing here?” I asked. “I thought you and Missy had one of those ‘no strings’ friends-with-benefits things going.”

“Me, too,” he said, pursing his lips. “I don’t know what happened. She called and told me about our spin on the rumor mill. And she started pouting and fussing, and before I knew it, I was apologizing. For things I hadn’t even done! And then, to make it up to her, she made me promise I’d come to this thing tonight. She talked in circles until I don’t even remember most of the conversation. She is a hell of a salesman.”

“Saleswoman,” I corrected.

“Whatever. All I know is, I’m not allowed to take my beer into the house because Missy says it doesn’t match the theme. Which is just fine with me. And now you’re here, so the evening’s not a total waste.”

“Well, thanks.”

“So, how are you and Captain Gloom and Doom getting along?”

“If you’re referring to Gabriel, we’re getting along just fine, thank you.”

“Haven’t done the deed yet, huh?”

“Wh-what kind of question is that?” I gasped. “Oh, is this one of those smell things again? Because that’s just gross.”

“No, it’s not a smell issue, even though you downright reek of his manly sobriety. I can tell because you’re still capable of humor. What’s wrong? Is Gabriel too prim and proper to get beyond a good-night handshake?”

“I am not going to talk about this with you!” I exclaimed.

“Why not? If you’re not going to let me see you naked, we might as well be girlfriends.”

“You’re a twisted little man.”

“Come on, Stretch, share with the class.”

“No!” I laughed.

“Prude.”

“Perv.”

“Schoolmarm.”

“Some other word that essentially means perv.”

We were laughing when Missy decided to join us out on the porch. “I figured I’d find you two out here together,” she said brightly. “Jane, you have to promise you’re going to come to my next mixer. Everybody wants to know if you’re coming. You’re like the vampire Jessica Simpson! They can’t understand why they’re interested in you, but they can’t stand not knowing what you are going to do next. You have some serious buzz going in there. I bet you start getting all kinds of business at your little shop.”

“Well, on that note, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

Missy grabbed my arm. “Are you sure, shug? We’re going to start playing Jenga pretty soon!”

“Well, as much as I love games that combine alcohol with fine-motor skills, I think I’ll pass.” I shot a wink at Dick, who was standing behind Missy, giving me a pleading look. “Dick, enjoy the Jenga.”

I slid the glass door open and was met with silence over jazz. Ever walk into a room and realize that someone has suddenly stopped talking because they were saying something bad about you? Ever had it happen in a roomful of vampires? Most of the guests pretended to be absorbed in their drinks or played with their cocktail napkins as they tried to contain their snickers. Others, including Hadley Wexler, just stared at me as if they hoped I would spontaneously combust as some sort of party trick.

“Well, good night, all,” I said, smiling pleasantly and winding my way through silent, motionless bodies. I closed the front door behind me and heard conversation rumble back to life.

I walked quickly toward Big Bertha, eager to put as much distance between myself and Missy’s snotty vampire friends as possible. As soon as I reached for the door handle, the driver’s-side window exploded in front of me. I stood, dumbfounded, as little slivers of glass rained at my feet. A few seconds later, I heard several faint hiss-pops and felt hot, stabbing agony in my left shoulder, my lower back, my ribs. I fell to the ground as another bullet shattered Big Bertha’s rear window. Blood slowly trickled down my arms, soaking my clothes as I scanned the silent row of houses.

Even with my night vision, I couldn’t tell where the shots were coming from. While the pain of the wounds faded quickly, I experienced some residual panic, leftover sensations from the night I was turned. My hands shook, and my mind wouldn’t clear. I couldn’t focus enough to figure out how to open the car door. My thoughts spooled on a loop through my head—had to flee, get to safety, get home.

If anyone inside Missy’s house heard anything amiss, they weren’t making any move to come outside and help me. Against the yellow light of the closed window shades, I saw silhouettes of people talking, laughing. The music played on. Somehow I didn’t think I would find help if I ran back inside.

Whoever was pulling the trigger had stopped shooting. When my legs steadied, I jumped over Big Bertha’s hood, using her massive body as cover as I frantically searched with numb, clumsy fingers. I climbed into the front seat and slumped down as I started the ignition. As calmly as possible, I sped down the street toward home.

18

Sexual relationships can prove difficult after turning but no more difficult than they are for the living.

—From The Guide for the Newly Undead

Note to self: Bullet wounds tend to itch when you’re conscious during the healing process.

With Aunt Jettie floating helplessly by the tub, wringing her hands, I washed away the dried blood and inspected the wounds. If she’d been living, I probably would have scared ten years off her life when I stumbled, bloodied and cursing, through the front door. Unsure of how to help me, she disappeared upstairs and ran a bath, while I staggered toward the fridge and glugged down three bottles of synthetic blood. As the thick, sweetened plasma rolled down my throat, the nausea and dizziness faded away. I was able to crawl up the stairs.