Page 29 of Nosfer-Meet You

Harriett predictably lets out a groan and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “So, I’m doomed to be sixteen forever, then? I’ll never be allowed inside the clubs, ever?”

I smirk at her. “In a perfect world, yeah. You’d stay out of those clubs and avoid all that shite.” She opens her mouth to argue with me, but I continue. “But when you’re a bit older, you’ll be able to glamour the humans so they see you however old you want to look. So, no. You won’t be a child forever.”

“I’m not a child now,” she retorts.

I let out a soft snicker. “Sixteen’s a child. And you’re only five. So you’re doubly a child now, love.”

Harriett storms off to look inside my fridge again, then slams the door shut when she realizes it hasn’t miraculously refilled itself. “I’m hungry.”

“Then let’s go get something to eat,” I say, and put my guitar down.

“But you eat … rats,” she says, shuddering. “I want real food.”

“We could go get kebab,” I say, making my way to the door. “Is that real enough for you?”

“Sounds awful,” she says. “But … fine. We can scarf and barf and then go eat a rapist.”

My hand lingers on the doorknob as I stare down at her. “Excuse me? Rapists, now? You’re hanging out with Marcus and Ava too much. The rats are fine. They’ll keep you alive.”

“But they taste like sweaty gym socks,” she says as we make our way down the hall.

“How do you know what sweaty gym socks taste like?” I hit the button to call the lift. “Do I want to know?”

When the doors to the lift open, I grab my little sister in a headlock and drag her in with me. Her giggles and shrieks of delight follow us all the way down.

Chapter 17

Juliette

LITTLE MISS FOLKLORE GOES TO THE MOVIES

“Istill can’t get over the fact that he made you eat your own mother’s heart,” Scotty says as we make our way past the old junkyard toward the drive-in theater. I haven’t been out this way in a few decades. It’s changed a lot since my last visit. The streets are empty. No Helsings out on patrol, so there is nothing to eat.

I shrug as we come up to the drive-in ticket booth. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say in response. Luckily, I don’t have to say anything as Scotty slides up to the booth and grins at the young human woman sitting behind the window. Her expression sours when she sees the pair of us.

“You need a car to visit the drive-in,” she says in a bored drawl. “No car, no entry.”

Scotty’s eyes flicker from bright red to amber, like someone flipped a switch inside of him. Merde. Watching him lean into the booth with his easy lopsided grin and boyish charm does something to my cold, dead heart. The sensation quickens in my throat and sends a long-forgotten wave down toward my … my…

“Hey, doll. We’re going to go right on in if that’s all right with you,” he says, his voice light and friendly. But his feral expression is anything but. He’s a predator. And despite his age, a formidable one, I’m finally noticing. I linger behind him and fidget with the sleeves of my hoodie, unsure of what to do with my hands. I never know what to do with my hands.

“It’s six fifty for two tickets,” the girl says, her voice suddenly monotone. Enthralled. He could tell her to take a long walk off a short pier right now and she’d do it. Not that Scotty would ever do such a thing. He’s too nice. Too sincere for such a cold world.

He runs his fingers through his dark hair, pushing it away from his eyes, and I bite my bottom lip. Oh. Oh.

“Nah,” he says. “We’re going to go in for free, thanks.”

The girl nods as she stares straight ahead. Her pupils are enormous, the size of dinner plates. “Yes. Go right on in. Enjoy the show.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, and starts to walk away. But then he backtracks and says, “Oh, can we get a couple of those popcorn tickets, too?”

The girl, still enthralled, slides a couple of popcorn tickets to him underneath the sheet of glass. The glass is to protect her, I suppose … but it would never stop us. Scotty winks at her, grabs the tickets, and then slips his hand into mine without thinking. My throat tightens as his fingers lace between mine and he pulls me along. My feet are slow to answer, and I nearly trip on a rock as we make our way down to where the cars sit.

“Sorry,” he says, slowing his pace so I can keep up. “You okay? It’s been ages since I’ve done that, so I wasn’t sure how long it was going to last.”

I shake my head. “Mm, no. You did very well, in fact. But what are we doing? Are we not getting something to eat?”

“We are, but I couldn’t resist stopping here first.” He plops down in the grass behind the rows of cars. The glow of the movie screen catches my attention for a fleeting second. An enormous lagoon creature approaches a screaming woman as she tries to run away. Some couples in their cars snuggle together like mated mourning doves. It’s only when Scotty’s thumb traces my knuckles that I remember he’s still holding my hand.