“Good game of Bloodlust?” I asked his bent head. Vlad didn’t answer, so I ignored him, helping myself to a cup of coffee.
“I’m going to assume you had a wild late night with Mr. Sampson.” Nina spun around on the table to face me, raised her dark eyebrows, and grinned salaciously. “And from the looks of it, he likes it rough. Me-ow!”
Vlad looked up, his lips set hard. “Is sex all you two ever talk about?” he asked.
“If we’re lucky,” Nina said. “You should be getting ready for work, Louis.”
“Vlad!” he moaned.
“Whatever.”
I pulled my bangs over the cut on my forehead and caught the sage-green cashmere sweater Nina tossed at me.
“This will be bril with your eyes. You can tell me all about the intricacies of crossbreed love on our way in. Can werewolves even do it missionary style?”
“Ugh!” Vlad moaned, shuddering. “I don’t know what’s worse—my aunt talking about sex or crossbreed love.”
Nina pointed to the open door of her room. “Vlad, go change your clothes and get over yourself. We’re going to be leaving in a few minutes. It will reflect poorly on me if you’re late. And if you’re dressed like Thurston Howell.”
Vlad stomped out of the room, muttering, “I hate living here,” under his breath.
Nina crossed her arms in front of her chest and smiled at me. “We’re good parents.”
I put the sweater Nina had tossed to me down on the couch. “Nina, when I went to UDA last night Mr. Sampson wasn’t there.”
Nina blinked and hopped off the table. “We’re going to be late.”
I grabbed Nina’s cold arm and pulled her to the couch. “You don’t get it. He escaped.”
“He didn’t escape. He’s a grown man, Sophie. He doesn’t have a curfew. And UDA’s a job, not a prison”—Nina held up a single finger—“although it can feel that way sometimes.” She craned her head over her shoulder. “Are you ready, Vladimir? Come on.” She went to the kitchen and rummaged through the refrigerator, pulling out a bottled Starbucks for me and a couple of blood bags for herself and Vlad. “Ooh,” she said before she punctured her bag, “Ooh, AB negative!”
Living with a vampire took a lot of getting used to.
Nina’s fingers hovered above the key rack. “Want me to drive? I can strand you after work so you can ride in the detective’s squad car of love.” She wiggled her butt and shimmied with her chest. “He can turn on his love siren and—”
I held up a silencing hand. “It ate my car.”
Nina’s cheeks went hollow as she sucked the last of the blood from her pouch. “Whoa. Sounds like we’re out of UDA and straight into Transformers.”
I gave her a look.
“I know,” she said, tossing her pouch in the trash, “more than meets the eye. Vlad, come on!”
Vlad stomped out of the room, looking more sullen than the usual brooding vampire. He had kept on his suit pants but changed into a fitted black T-shirt and lost the ascot.
“Better,” Nina said, examining him. “Almost.” She rolled up on her tiptoes and mussed his perfectly coifed and gelled back hair until it stood up around his crown in slick black spikes.
“Gosh,” Vlad said, ducking Nina’s hand, “Aunt Nina, stop!”
We were halfway down the hall when Nina leaned into me. “So, are you going to tell me what happened or not?”
I looked over my shoulder at Vlad, sullen, earbuds pressed in, black iPod peeking out of his pocket. “I don’t know—can he hear us?”
“Yes,” Vlad said.
I leaned closer to Nina, whispering. “I don’t know if it’s appropriate to talk about it in front of him. I wouldn’t want to scare him.”
Nina scrunched up her forehead. “Soph, he’s sixteen.”
“One hundred and twelve,” Vlad corrected.
“For a long time, he brought ugly death and carnal destruction to the entire eastern seaboard.”
My eyes widened. Nina held up her hands, placatingly. “But that was a super long time ago. He’s over that now, aren’t you, Vlad?”
Vlad simply shrugged and I quickened my pace.
I filled Nina and Vlad in on last night’s activities as we pulled into the police department parking lot. Nina’s brows were furrowed, and she was gnawing on her lower lip.
“But you’re okay though, right?” Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and there was a tiny bit of flush in her normally pale cheeks. “You didn’t actually get bitten or anything, did you?”
“Werewolves are always looking to increase their numbers,” Vlad said from the backseat, his eyes focused on his iPod.
I felt myself sink back into the passenger seat as Nina’s cold eyes slipped from my face to my collarbone.
“Or scratched?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t take much.”
“No, I didn’t get bitten or scratched, and I’m fine. You mean it doesn’t take much to be turned into a werewolf?” I frowned.
Nina pressed her lips together. “A bite, a scratch.”