Page 3 of Hunger & Harmony

“Just got here.”

“Still waiting on my drink,” Ezren chimes in, which has Lorelai’s sweet smile twisting into a scowl.

“Ugh, are you testing her in the first five minutes?”

“Is it wrong to be thirsty?” he shoots back.

“How could you be thirsty? I literally saw two women in here earlier⁠—”

Are there storm clouds brewing in this rehearsal studio, or is that Selene’s impatience?

“That was breakfast! Isn’t there supposed to be three meals in a day? Plus a snack?”

“For humans. You know, the mortals who are up all day and sleep when you’re awake?”

The air shifts. I peer between Ezren and Lorelai, noticing the crease of his brow.

“Hey,” Selene interjects, crossing her arms as she says, “One syllable of complaining from him and I’m sending him your way.”

“Ew.” Lorelai sticks her tongue out.

“No, thank you,” Ez says, his huff a little less indignant.

I don’t have the context yet, but genuine hurt pushes against his pout.

“Save it,” Selene says, her tone zipping both their mouths shut. “Lo, how about showing Cadence the fridge? Get her up to speed with the technology, too.”

Lorelai scrunches her nose at Ezren before she pulls me forward. After linking our arms together, she nods.

“I’ll show her the ropes.”

That’s how we end up in the staff lounge up the hall. It’s surprisingly corporate, bordering on sterile. They have everything from a full kitchen to a small dining area, including a vending machine. I don’t miss the label that says, “For Human Consumption Only” on it.

“You got the work phone?” she asks once we’re standing in front of the fridge.

Pulling it out of my pocket, I then unlock the sleek device. There’s already an established account and apps on here.

“If you go to the notes, you’ll find everything listed. Try to memorize, but for now, always double-check you’re getting the right thing for the right member.”

She’s not kidding. Everything is laid out, and all perfectly organized and formatted, too. I navigate to a folder labeled Ezren Black and find a list of preferences.

“AB is his favorite type . . .” I murmur. “Type B is a close second. Don’t let him eat nacho cheese chips; he doesn’t know when to stop, and it hurts his stomach.”

“Ah. I’ll have to update that he’s been trying to get into breakfast, too.”

I gawk at her.

“Vampires can eat food?”

“Uh . . .Yes and no. They can, but there’s no benefit,” she says, her gray eyes rolling. “How our drummer is supposed to tour with a constant stomachache is clearly not his concern. So, just make sure he sticks to groupies and what’s in the fridge.”

Opening the double doors, I peer inside. Pouches are lined up neatly, each type of blood grouped. A, B, AB, and even O are all there in plain, bold lettering. The only difference from juice is a small, see-through window revealing dark crimson liquid within the metallic packaging.

Thankfully, I’ve never been squeamish. Something tucked in the back catches my eye, though. I pause before I reach for the duller, browner liquid to check the label.

“Girl, that’s not AB,” Lorelai says, swatting my hand away just before I can grab it.

“What is⁠—”