Accidental Sire (Half-Moon Hollow #6)

“Well, technically, pumpkins and tomatoes are fruits, and lavender is an herb, but yeah, you’ve got some tiny traces of plant DNA in your systems.”

I glanced down at my hands, searching for any sign of pumpkin orange. Nope, I was still pretty pale. But it did make sense that we had plant genes, what with our magical human-baiting floral breath. Maybe the extra fangs were the result of the shark DNA? Sharks had rows and rows of teeth, right? Did that mean that ours would grow back if we broke them off?

Wait.

“Gene therapy isn’t supposed to work like that,” I said. “You can’t just inject someone with DNA samples and expect to affect their genetic code.”

Ben turned to me, eyebrows raised.

“I read!” I cried.

“Well, vampire biology is a little different from human,” Jane said. “Plus, there are chemical traces in your bloodstream that Dr. Hudson can’t explain. So we’re not just talking gene therapy. We’re talking pharmacology, too.”

I scanned the report at high speed, catching a lot of very scary words involving complicated chemical terms I didn’t understand. “So the vampire who bit me had weird drugs in his system?”

“Something that transferred over to you when his blood went into your system.” Jane nodded. “We’re assuming he was a carrier, like a lab-created plague rat, since he had normal fangs. The mojo from his blood marinated in your system for twenty-four hours and was passed on to Ben somehow when you bit him. It’s like you carry a vampire virus in your spit. Maybe if you hadn’t bitten him right when you woke up, it would be different, but . . . well, who knows?”

“A spit virus? So, in theory, we could set off the zombie apocalypse,” Ben said, just a little too brightly.

“Please stop saying things. Every time you say something, I feel worse.” I sighed. “What does all this mean?”

“I’m going to have to say something to answer that,” she noted. I gave her a distinct bitch brow, so she continued, “You are not some anomaly in the natural progression of vampirism. You were created. Someone took the time to design you and planned to turn you.”

Ben managed to frown and clear his throat at the same time. “Well, that’s . . . terrifying.”

“The good news is that if someone designed you, there are steps that lead to you. Testing stages. Failed experiments.”

“And being called a failed experiment shouldn’t offend us . . . why?” I asked.

“I know. That was insensitive. But failed experiments generally leave evidence behind. Maybe we can find some of that evidence and figure out who cooked you up,” Jane said.

“Will that help us in any way? We’re still going to be freaky undead chimeras,” Ben grumbled.

“No, it won’t help you, but it will stop Dr. Frankenvamp from making more.”

“Again, hurtful,” Ben noted.

“True enough. I’m just saying, you two turned out great, but who’s to say the next batch will have your restraint? Or that whoever is mixing up super-neovamps isn’t going to add even more special features? Like a weird tail or something.”

I tried not to internally aww over the fact that Jane not only said I turned out great but also called us super-neovamps. The “weird tail” comment helped.

“The additional good news is that our insisting that you couldn’t tell anyone where you went after you were turned means that whoever designed you doesn’t know how to find you. And that person doesn’t even know that Ben exists. See? There was a reason for our strict, somewhat paranoid secrecy.”

We both stared at her, skeptical faces in place.

“Just let me have this one, OK, kids?”



So I was a neovamp with pumpkin powers. After showering off the remains of a very stressful, bloody evening, I lay on my bed, waiting to drop off to sleep, trying to imagine how I would frame this conversation with Morgan and Keagan. I mean, I was already stretching the boundaries of quirks you can accept about your friends pretty thin. Morgan didn’t like the fact that Keagan shouted out Internet-mined spoilers to horror movies while Morgan was watching them. Pumpkin powers might be beyond her limits.

A soft knock on my door caught my attention. I propped myself up on my elbows and saw Ben leaning against my doorframe. The sunproof shades were already covering my windows, so he was backlit by the hall lights. I could barely make out the wolf logo on the Half-Moon Hollow High T-shirt he was wearing with some old basketball shorts.

“Ben, what are you doing? The sun’s coming up in just a few minutes.”

“I can’t sleep,” he whispered, closing the door behind him. “I’ve tried. I just—I’m freaking out. I know we’ve only been vampires for a few weeks, but I’d definitely started taking the whole ‘live forever’ thing for granted. And then tonight we almost get killed with silver and sunlight, and I see my whole life flash before my eyes, and it is so freaking boring, except for the very last bit. And then Jane tells us that we’re basically alone in this thing. That you and I are the only ones like us, and we’ve got reptile and fruit parts in us. It’s just—how am I supposed to sleep after that?”

I threw my covers back and scooted to the end of the bed, meeting him there. I was grateful I was wearing some of my more forgiving pajamas. Soft cotton pants covered in dancing jelly beans with a loose blue T-shirt.

“You’re going to sleep, because that’s what we need to do,” I told him. “Because we have to get up tomorrow night and start all over again. We’ve got to go to work and do our jobs and act like a coworker three floors down didn’t try to murder us, because that’s what Jane needs us to do. And so far, as much as I hate to admit it, the things Jane has asked us to do have worked.”

“But all that stuff Jane said about shark genes and pumpkins—”

“Doesn’t change anything,” I told him. “We’re not normal. We knew we weren’t normal when we got here. Having the specifics? That doesn’t change anything. You’re still you. I’m still me. We just have some extra flavors swirled in, like those little chunks of chocolate in Cherry Garcia.”

Ben opened his mouth to protest but seemed to think better of it and nodded. “Thank you.”

I smiled, even as I felt the heavy pull of the sunrise, dragging away my energy and focus. “Now, get back to your room and get to bed before the sun comes up and—”

Suddenly, Ben’s eyes rolled back, and he sagged forward, landing on top of me and face-planting in my cleavage. I fell back on my bed, with Ben still on top of me.

“That happens,” I muttered, thunking my head back on the mattress. I tried to raise my arms to push him off me, but they were so heavy and fatigued that they basically just flopped against his back. And the last thought that flitted through my head before dropping off was about how very awkward it was going to be when Ben woke up with his face buried in my cleavage.