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“How is Owen involved with vampires? And do you know who those vampires were you were shouting at?”
“I was told they were called Colette and Aldo.”
Sky snickered. “Those are totally vampire names.” He paused with a slice of cheese in his hand and turned partially to look at him. “You ever notice that vampires never have normal names? Colette and Aldo. Definitely vampire names.” He stared at the ceiling, his brow puckering. “Ryder and Gideon aren’t that strange, though. Rafe totally is. But, have you ever heard of a vampire who’s named John? Or Kevin? Kevin the vampire.” Sky’s brow smoothed, and his nose wrinkled. “Kevin isn’t very intimidating for a vampire’s name. Maybe they change their names.”
There was no stopping his laugh this time. “Sure, Skylar. Tell me again how you’re not a vampire, Skylar?”
“I’m not a vampire,” Sky snapped, waving the cheese at him. “I’m—” He suddenly stopped himself and turned toward the sandwich, tossing the cheese on top. “You want any condiments? Mustard or mayo?”
“Mayo, please.”
“Okay. Still not a vampire,” Sky muttered under his breath as he grabbed the jar of mayo. “So, your brother. What’s he got to do with this Aldo and Colette?”
“Owen is missing. He’s been missing for about two weeks. I—” Nolan screamed and climbed up on his chair.
Just a second ago, Sky had been squirting mayo on the sandwich in a design that Nolan was sure was going to be a smiley face, because Sky was that kind of cheerful adorable, when a black puff of smoke popped into existence next to Sky. The smoke didn’t disappear, but suddenly grew arms and legs. It hopped and reached up toward Sky as though it were demanding to be picked up…or given the sandwich.
Didn’t matter. There was a thing. A magical, black thing in Sky’s kitchen with long, hooked claws.
“Son of a…” Sky sighed, his words drifting off. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“What is it? What is it?” Nolan shrieked. He climbed into the next chair, trying to put more distance between himself and the creature. His glass fell over, spilling water across the table. He jostled the table, sending the glass rolling over the edge and crashing onto the floor.
Sky smiled at him. “It’s okay. It’s just Frank. He’s not going to hurt you. I accidentally summoned him with your sandwich.”
“You summoned him with a sandwich?” This wasn’t getting any better. He eyed his path to the hallway that led to the front door. He’d have to go past this Frank, but his legs were longer. There was no way Frank was faster than him, right?
“Yeah, see.” Sky held up the sandwich and instead of a smiley face, there was a strange, intricate design made with the mayo. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to. It’s a sort of muscle memory. I was listening to you and thinking about your vampire problem.”
“And it’s muscle memory to summon…that?” His voice was reaching ungodly high levels, but he didn’t fucking care. It was bad enough that he’d discovered vampires were real tonight, but now he was in his neighbor’s kitchen staring at a magical smoke monster who was still demanding the sandwich.
“Frank,” Sky supplied again. “He’s…well, he’s kind of my helper, and I pay him in sandwiches.”
That was insane.
He must be asleep, because this had become a nightmare. Or maybe he’d died at Phoenix, and now he was in Hell.
Frank the smoke monster appeared to have grown tired waiting on Nolan’s freak-out, because it was now jumping and making these strange squeaking and chittering noises.
Sky frowned at Frank. “Settle down. I didn’t mean to summon you. You’re scaring Nolan.”
Frank waved an arm in Nolan’s direction, then reached for the sandwich, his noises increasing.
“I know it’s not your fault. I didn’t say it was. And you know there are no free sandwiches in this house. Clean up the water and glass.”
Frank stomped on its enormous feet and waved both hands in Nolan’s direction. Frank was likely complaining that Nolan was the one to make the mess; he should clean it up. But in the end, Frank scrambled across the room and pulled a white-and-blue-striped dish towel out of a drawer. With a wave of his hand, the towel flew like a bird. It landed on the watery glass mess and scooped it up before disappearing completely.
“Hey! Bring my towel back! I don’t have an unlimited supply of those,” Sky complained. He walked over to the pantry. After briefly dipping inside, Sky turned around and held up two snack-sized bags of chips. “Dill pickle or cool ranch?”
The creature snapped its fingers again, and the towel reappeared, except now the towel was black with burn marks. A faint whiff of rotten eggs drifted through the air. Was that fucking sulfur? Or was that what brimstone was supposed to smell like?
