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No, what we needed here was a vampire, and as luck would have it, I knew one who happened to live a few blocks away.
We made our way to my old apartment, a basement suite in a cute little yellow building on West 52nd Street, not far from Cal’s Starbucks. There was a light burning in the living room, so I took my chances that Sutherland might be up and about.
Eternally seventeen and out of his goddamn mind, Sutherland had a bad habit of sleeping his nights away and forgetting to go out into the world. And when he wasn’t napping, he was awake all night watching terrible 80s movies on TV.
He was a man of simple pleasures, my father.
A while back I had hidden a key outside that would allow me access if need be. I’d stowed it out of sight when I’d realized Sutherland tended to avoid contact with others, and often wouldn’t answer his door even if he was at home.
I couldn’t blame him for doing the whole introvert thing, but at the same time, sometimes I needed his help. Our relationship wasn’t a stereotypical father-daughter bond in that I took care of him more than the other way around. I also wasn’t entirely certain Sutherland was capable of conventional love anymore. I knew he was fond of me and liked it when I visited, but there wasn’t much connection beyond that.
I’d saved his life during one of the darkest periods of my own, and I think he was grateful for it and made an effort to live that life as best he knew how so as to please me. I just wished I could offer him something more, something that would make him feel involved and welcomed as part of vampire society.
He was, technically, of Sig’s bloodline. A rogue vampire who had been sired by Sig’s lineage was responsible for killing Sutherland and then letting him rise with no guidance or help. Unfortunately that was what caused Sutherland to go insane, because his first act upon rising from the dead, in a state of blind hunger, was to attempt to kill my pregnant mother.
Long story short, that’s how I ended up as both a vampire and a werewolf. Mother wolf plus Daddy vamp equals messed-up baby Secret. Scientifically it was obviously a lot more complicated than that, but since I wasn’t either anymore, it didn’t much matter.
I decided to see if he was in a good mood before asking for any major favors. Rather than going to the door, I tapped gently on the window to his living room, which faced the street. A moment later the curtain rustled, and he peered out at me, his permanent baby face something I would never get used to.
He looked like a towheaded varsity football star, the very definition of the All-American boy, except for the fact he should have been in his forties now, and drank blood instead of Budweisers with the boys.
He stared at me uncertainly, as if he had no idea who I was. This wasn’t uncommon. I sometimes thought Sutherland was like the Drew Barrymore character in 50 First Dates who loses her memory every night as she sleeps and needs to relearn everything about her life the next day. My dad often took a long time to catch up with things he should already know.
Things like recognizing his own daughter’s face.
The problem was he was permanently stuck in the year he had died, and in that reality I was just an unexpected teenage pregnancy. I hadn’t been born yet. A full-grown woman in place of the idea of a baby was a lot to take in.
We hadn’t even met until I was in my twenties, so I couldn’t really blame him. He didn’t have a lifetime of memories to draw from. Still, it made me sad. My mother had hated me because she could only see him when she looked at me, and when he’d been turned, she’d lost everything she cared about. And my father barely knew me. The man who had been the closest thing I ever had to a father, my former partner Francis Keats, was dead.
All of this added up to a long list of reasons I should probably start going to therapy more.
After a long, agonizing moment, Sutherland’s face lit up, and he gave me a wave. I pointed in the direction of the outside door, and he nodded and let the curtain drop. A couple seconds la
ter the exterior door opened, and there stood Sutherland, with his mussed hair, wrinkly pajama pants, and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles T-shirt.
“Hey, guys.” He stared at the three people I’d brought with me, and I could tell by his seeking expression that he was trying to find them in his memory. I decided it was best to put him out of his misery.
“Sutherland, these are some friends of mine. Ingrid, Emilio, and Harry.”
Sutherland nodded, but his gaze focused on Harry longer than the others. “There’s something wrong with him. He doesn’t fit inside his body.”
I glanced over at the demon, who self-consciously looked down at his human suit. “Did he just say this vessel makes me look fat?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t worry about Harry. That’s temporary housing.”
“Oh.” He stared at the demon a little longer, then shrugged. “Do you guys want tea?”
Tea, I think, was the only kitchen-based item Sutherland knew how to make, and he absolutely loved to offer it everyone. Over the winter, my sister Genie had come to town to hunt down my back-from-the-grave mother, and the first thing he’d done after we’d told Sutherland his life was at risk was make us some peppermint tea.
As far as I could tell, it was a holdover from his Southern upbringing, where mothers and grandmothers would bridge awkwardness with the offering of tea, both hot and cold.
“Tea would be lovely,” I said. “But I’m wondering if we could take you out for some.”
“That’s okay. I have tea inside.”
I exchanged a quick look with Emilio. I needed to impress the urgency of our situation on Sutherland without spooking him, but it was also important he understood what I was asking for. If he went through the Starbucks door without some sense of desperation, he wouldn’t get to Cal.
