Accidental Sire (Half-Moon Hollow #6)

“How many parts of you are there?” I asked.

“Oh, you haven’t earned the right to be snarky with me yet, sweetie, so cool your jets,” Jane told me. “I can’t tell you what’s going to happen long-term. But for right now, it’s pretty clear that you can’t continue your classes for the semester. We can’t have a newborn vampire who’s not in control of her thirst surrounded by a bunch of defenseless, delicious-smelling students. That’s the sort of thing that results in calls to my office. I hate that.”

Ophelia snorted softly. “So you’re going to be secluded with an older, supposedly stable vampire who will be able to help you gain control over your thirst.”

“I don’t see why the ‘supposedly’ was necessary, but yes, you will be staying with me,” Jane interjected. “Call it a probationary period, a chance to show the Council that, despite a shaky start, you are going to be a productive, trustworthy member of undead society.”

My face screwed up even further at the idea of having to prove myself to vampires. I hadn’t asked for this. I hadn’t wanted to be a part of their stupid undead society, and now they were judging me, trying to figure out whether I was good enough to fit into it? I’d had enough of trying to fit into new groups and new places. The vampires were cordially invited to suck it, as far as I was concerned.

But I didn’t think Jane would respond nicely to that particular invitation.

“And where will that be?” I asked.

“Half-Moon Hollow.”

“I’m sorry, where now?”

Having lived in mid-central Kentucky all of my life, I was pretty sure I’d heard of every little burg in that area. I’d heard of Possum Trot and Monkey’s Eyebrow, even Paducah, a town name that no one pronounced correctly on the first try. But I’d never heard of Half-Moon Hollow.

“Half-Moon Hollow. It’s the home of my former Council office,” Ophelia said. “I’ve lived there for the last fifty years. It’s basically a cultural wasteland, but there’s an interesting lace-tatting festival every spring. And the dollar movie theater is nice.”

“And it’s also the home of my current Council office,” Jane added, somewhat testily. “We’ll do our best to make you comfortable there. And if Ben survives the transition, he will also be comfortable there, since it’s his hometown. Your professors have been made aware of your situation, and you’ll be allowed to continue your course work online, so you won’t lose any ground academically. Ben, too, I imagine, since he’s only got a few classes left before graduation.”

“You told everybody I turned Ben into a vampire?” I asked, grimacing.

“No, we told half of the people who asked that he’s come down with a case of mono complicated by strep throat and MRSA. The other half were told he joined the Peace Corps. Misinformation is the best way to prevent panic. One student being turned as the result of a very public accident? That happens. Another student gets turned the next night under shadowy circumstances? Not so much.”

“I’m not sure about this,” I admitted. “It’s all happening really fast. A day ago, my biggest problem was midterms and paying my cell-phone bill. And now you’re telling me that I have to move my whole life to some armpit town in the middle of nowhere, away from everybody I know, and stay with strangers? I don’t know what to think.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Jane told me. “And I’m sorry, but you don’t have a lot of time to mull it over. Also not much choice. It’s pretty much a ‘come quietly or I involve zip ties’ situation.”

I grunted and thunked my head against the conference table.

“I hate to admit it, but Jane and Gabriel did a tolerable job training Jamie,” Ophelia drawled. “And Jane’s caring for my sister, Georgie. I wouldn’t allow that unless Georgie was in at least adequate hands. Besides, I’ll come home on school breaks to visit, to check in on you.”

I asked, “Why do I feel like I’m being punished here?”

“You’re not being punished, but since you seem resistant to us trying to sugarcoat it for you, I can’t allow you out of my sight until we figure out what the hell has happened to you and what that could mean to the vampire community. I know vampires try to come off as all blasé and unflappable, but the older ones tend to freak out when they encounter something new. Some of them still aren’t sure this whole electricity thing is going to work. If word gets out that vampires can turn overnight and possibly turn other people with a bite, there would be, well, what’s the global vampire equivalent of a toddler tantrum at Kmart?”

I looked to Ophelia, who nodded.

“And humans? Forget about it. They were barely prepared for the Great Coming Out when they knew that turning was a complicated three-day blood exchange. No one can know where we’re taking you and Ben. Ophelia is sworn to secrecy, and Tina seems to be terrified-slash-in-awe of the number of UERT members we brought along, so she’s not going to ask too many questions. You’ll be able to talk to your friends and family over Skype, but you can’t tell them where you are. And I’m sorry if that doesn’t work for you, but as you are one of my newest constituents, I will be overseeing your transition into undead society and making sure that you are not somehow a threat to our way of life. In English, that means I am the boss of you. I will see to your feeding training, so you don’t go around biting people all willy-nilly. I will find you an appropriate support network, because you’re hanging out with Ophelia and clearly cannot be trusted to choose your own friends.” Jane paused to observe and ignore the profane gesture Ophelia made. “I will be checking your e-mail and your browser history and generally invading your privacy. And considering the fact that I am giving you the benefit of the doubt, rather than following the Council’s previous policy of ‘stake first, stake often, worry about the facts later,’ you will gladly cooperate.”

I nodded slowly. “OK, I guess I could maybe live with that . . . wait, my browser history?”

“Morgan told you that your obsession with weird Harry Potter fanfic ships would eventually come back to bite you,” Ophelia said with a snicker.

“This is not the time to judge my Dramione shipping,” I told her. I pointed my finger in her face. Ophelia made a halfhearted snap at it, clicking her teeth together far short of my digit.

Jane’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Ophelia. “You having what seems to be a normal, affectionate friendship unnerves me. I am officially unnerved. Anyway, I will also be getting in touch with your friends and family. I will need a list of names and contact info, including your next of kin, so I can notify them.” She cleared her throat, picking up her pen. “Also, I’ll need a list of those Dramione fanfic Web sites.”