Under Wraps

“Good to see you again, Mr. Howard,” I said, my smile wan. “Nice to have met you, too. Vlad and I should be heading upstairs, though. Time to get settled.” I grabbed Vlad by the elbow and pushed him in front of me, then nodded to the couple who immediately went back into nuzzle mode.

 

“Look,” I said under my breath, “You’re going to run into a lot of humans here. You’ve got to keep that”—I wriggled my fingers in front of him—“under control.”

 

“Of course,” Vlad said smoothly.

 

“I’m serious. No glamouring while you’re here. At least not while you’re here, here.”

 

Vlad eyed me, but his expression didn’t change.

 

“Glad we’re clear,” I said mostly to myself.

 

Vlad and I headed up to my apartment. I pushed my key into the lock and dumped my shoulder bag on the hallway floor. If I can just get into the tub—into the tub and maybe into the liquor cabinet—this day will improve immensely, I told myself. I ushered Vlad in, then kicked the door closed with my foot, snapping the dead bolt behind us.

 

“Nina should be home soon. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a bath.”

 

“Do you have high-speed Internet?” Vlad asked.

 

“Yeah, of course.”

 

He whipped a MacBook Pro out of his book bag, flipped it open, and settled himself at our kitchen table.

 

I guess teenagers—dead or alive—are pretty much the same everywhere.

 

I stripped off my clothes when I walked into the bathroom, leaving them in a trailing heap on the floor. Once I was in nothing but my bra and panties I toed my skirt, blouse, and jacket, noticing an oblong stain of red-black blood on the cuff of my blouse. My stomach lurched and my eyes watered.

 

“So much for that outfit.”

 

I grabbed the broom and dustpan from the linen closet and swept my clothes into a heap, then dumped the mess—dustpan and all—into the rubbish bin.

 

I ran the bathwater as hot as I could get it and upturned a bottle of honey-coconut bubble bath under the faucet. I sniffed and then tossed in a handful of pink crystal bath salts and then sunk myself up to my eyebrows in the hot, soapy water, hoping that the mélange of fluffy bath scents and scalding water would wash away any trace of vomit, blood, and memory.

 

Once I felt adequately boiled—my skin warm, pink, and wrinkled—I snuggled into my baby-blue chenille bathrobe and padded to the kitchen. Vlad hadn’t moved from his spot at the table, and now the glow from the laptop reflected off his pale skin eerily.

 

“What are you playing?” I asked him.

 

He didn’t look up. “Bloodlust.”

 

My stomach lurched. “How nice.”

 

I poured a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and promptly downed it.

 

“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked Vlad. “Nina stocked the fridge for you. She’s got A, B, O pos, and O neg. There’s Blood Light too, but …”

 

Do vampires have a drinking age?

 

“No, thanks.” Vlad wagged his head, his eyes never leaving his screen. “I’m fine.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

I dumped a half loaf of Wonder Bread on the counter for myself and slathered a few pieces of the fluffy white bread with peanut butter and grape jelly, promising myself that I would go right back to avoiding carbs and eating like a grown-up tomorrow. Then I poured myself a second glass of wine and headed for the couch. “I’m just going to watch a little TV if you don’t mind.”

 

Vlad didn’t answer.

 

I was picking the crusts off my sandwich and watching a Gossip Girl rerun when I heard the lock tumble and Nina appeared in the doorway, nudging the door closed with her hip.

 

“Hey,” she said, coming in, dumping her purse and keys on the countertop.

 

I jumped a little, dropping the remains of my sandwich in my lap. “Ugh. You scared me.” I licked peanut butter off my hand.

 

She wiggled her fingers and stuck out her tongue. “Woooo! I vant to suck your blood!” Her Transylvanian accent left something to be desired. She giggled.

 

“Not amusing,” I said, tossing a pillow at her.

 

“Louis!” Nina squealed, when she saw him sitting at the table.

 

Louis didn’t look up, and I leaned over to Nina. “His name is Vlad now.”

 

Nina frowned. “Vlad? Really?”

 

Vlad looked over his laptop and stood up, gliding silently toward Nina. “Aunt Nina,” he said, grinning, exposing those small fangs.

 

Nina stood on tiptoes to hug him, and I got a little warm fuzzy from the vampire family reunion. “This is so nice!”

 

Nina stepped out of Vlad’s embrace. “So you’re going to be Vlad now? Seriously?”

 

Vlad nodded solemnly, clasping his hands in front of him.

 

“Why? Couldn’t come up with something more original, like Lord Voldemort?”

 

Vlad glared at Nina.

 

“What’s wrong with Vlad?” I asked, popping the last bite of sandwich in my mouth.

 

“Every male vamp under a hundred and fifty calls himself Vlad. It’s the Muhammad of the vampire world. You know, Vlad the Impaler? Vlad Von Dracula?”

 

I shrugged, and she swung her head to Vlad again. “And what’s with the outfit?”

 

“This is the uniform of the Vampire Empowerment and Restoration Movement.”

 

Nina rolled her eyes and flopped on the couch. “Oh, man. You haven’t gotten involved with the Movementarians, have you? Ugh, Louis.”