“Whitfield and Whitfield,” I said, out of habit.
A beat, then a burst of static, then a girl’s voice, Avery, probably. “Is this where I order the bouncy house? We’re dying of boredom.”
“Nice to hear from you, too. Where’s your sister?”
“Right here, obviously,” Came the immediate, over-loud reply, Allison, always determined to control the narrative. “Tell the ancient one we survived group therapy, but if they make us paint another vision board, I’m going to set the barn on fire.”
Izora rolled her eyes, which somehow telegraphed through the phone. “Your sisters are little charmers,” she purred, loud enough for the twins to hear.
“Hi, Miss I,” said Avery, earnest. “Are you still wearing the skeleton brooch? It’s so gross, I love it.”
There was a clatter and the faint sound of a struggle, probably the two of them fighting for control of the phone. I imagined them, identical save for a slightly different shade of hair and the fact that one chewed her nails and the other chewed gum. Both could talk a blue streak. Both were, in their ways, very good at getting under my skin.
Allison said, “Have you ever tried group therapy with vampires? Everyone’s trauma is, like, literally the worst thing that’s ever happened in human history.”
Izora, unamused, intoned, “Try living with them for a few centuries, dear. They only get more self-important.”
I let the byplay run, driving in silence while the twins filled the van with their voices. Izora liked the twins. My sisters had stolen my blood and turned themselves, which was a huge no-no in our world. A few years ago, that would have gotten them executedfor breaking the number one rule of being a vampire. Don’t turn humans without council approval. There used to be a whole twelve-step process for that. Not really, but it seemed that way.
After Jax and Hailey had uncovered some bad eggs on the council, Dom and Amara now lead it and were working with Jax to update some rules. Instead of a death sentence, Allie and Avery had to go to a farm for vampires to work off their sentence and hopefully learn some humility.
“So what’s the plan for tonight?” I asked as soon as the twins’ conversation hit a lull.
Avery answered first. “Obstacle course before breakfast. Then more horses.”
A flash of memory, Avery at age eight, falling off a pony and immediately refusing to cry, even as blood dripped from her chin. The look she’d given me. Not wounded, but disappointed in her lack of technique. I gripped the wheel tighter, and the SUV swerved fractionally.
Allison cut in. “The horses are cool. The counselor is a narc, but she’s kind of a whole entire snack, so I’m not complaining.”
Izora barked a laugh. “Which one of you is talking? I can’t tell when you both sound like reality TV contestants.”
Avery, deadpan, said, “I’m the evil twin. You should know this by now.”
The banter veered, as it always did, toward the darkly comic. I waited for my opening, then took it. “You know I have to ask,” I said, careful to keep the tone neutral, not parental. “Are you safe, are you okay?”
A beat. Then, quiet. “Yeah,” From Avery. “We’re good. Promise.”
Allison, softer. “It’s notthatbad.”
“Good,”I said. The knot behind my breastbone loosened half a notch.
“Are you okay?” asked Avery, the question careful, practiced. “You sound tense.”
I scanned the road, then the rearview, buying myself a second. “Just work stuff. I’m about to catch a very stupid man who skipped bail.”
Allison was instantly alert. “Is it the insurance fraud guy? You said last time you’d get him before the weekend.”
“He’s fast for a guy who only eats nachos and has been evading creditors since 2014.”
That got them laughing, the laughter that reminded me of holidays, how much louder everything was, how much more beautiful. Izora was watching me, face turned so I couldn’t read it, but I could feel the scrutiny. Or was it amusement? I couldn’t tell with her.
Avery’s voice was small now. “Be safe, okay? Don’t do the thing where you get all reckless.”
“Don’t get shot, old man,” said Allison, reverting to her tried and true. Mean.
My face split into a grin. “I’ll try not to.”
A pause, and then the twins said, in perfect tandem. “Too late!”
