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“Right,” I said with a nod. Our diets were quite different. “But I appreciate your company all the same.”
Dean grinned, showing off his unnaturally sharp canines. “Well, I won’t intrude on your breakfast plans with Jaxon. I’ve got some questions about the town’s security I want to discusswith Sheriff Clawson, anyway.” He gave me a playful salute before strolling away, whistling a jaunty tune.
As I watched him go, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made up an excuse and left to give Jaxon and me some time alone to get to know one another. My offer for Dean to join us had been genuine, but now I realized I was actually grateful to get the chance to spend time with my father.
At the café, we nabbed a booth near the window. The place hummed with energy, and the scent of fresh coffee and bacon gave it a homey feel. Our waitress came over and took our orders before disappearing back into the kitchen.
I turned to Jaxon. “So, what’s the deal with Dean? Why do you hang around with him when he’s so much younger than you?”
Jaxon let out a chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You know, when I first met Dean, we looked a bit closer in age. He’s actually older than me. Born in 1935, if you can believe it.”
“Really?” I blinked in surprise. Vampire lore often spoke of their immortality, but seeing someone like Dean, who didn’t even seem particularly mature for his age, made the concept hard to grasp. “He acts more like an eighteen-year-old boy.”
“Ah, well, that’s because he was turned into a vampire when he was eighteen, back in ‘53. You could say he’s been stuck in that mindset ever since.” Jaxon leaned back in his chair, a fond smile on his lips. “Don’t let that fool you. He may enjoy causing mischief from time to time, but he’s a loyal friend and has a good heart.”
I mulled over this information, trying to wrap my head around the idea of someone being frozen in time, their personality tethered to a specific moment. It made me wonder how I would have turned out if I was forever trapped as theperson I was when I was eighteen. Would I still be the same Tori?
“Anyway,” Jaxon said, “Dean’s been with me through thick and thin, and we’ve learned to rely on each other. Despite our differences, we’re like family.”
“Family,” I repeated softly, a pang of longing for the close relationship the men shared pinching my heart. My gaze flitted toward the window, where I saw the town bustling with life. The people here had become my family, too, though it had taken time and trust to reach that point.
Jaxon put his hand on mine. “You’ve got a family here, too, Tori. Don’t forget that.”
I looked into his warm, sincere eyes with a renewed sense of belonging. Smiling at him, I squeezed his hand.
Stirring my coffee absentmindedly, I contemplated what Jaxon had just shared about Dean’s age and immortality. The clinking of my spoon against the ceramic mug punctuated my thoughts as I tried to picture a teenage vampire with decades of experience under his belt.
“What I don’t get,” I said, “is if Dean’s been around for so long, why does he still act like a teenager sometimes? I mean, I know you said he was stuck in the same mindset, but surely after all these years, he should have matured more by now?”
Jaxon leaned back in his chair and grinned as if he’d expected this question. “That’s because vampires’ personalities are basically paused exactly as they were when they ‘died.’ It’s hard for them to change or mature.” He picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Luckily, Dean was a pretty good kid when he was turned into a vampire. Even if he’s a jokester, he’s the most harmless vampire in the world.”
I smiled at the thought of innocent, mischievous Dean being the least threatening vampire ever. His outward appearance might give that impression, but I’d seen him in action. He mightnot feed on humans—at least, not directly from the vein—but there was no doubt he was a dangerous opponent in a fight.
The steam from my coffee swirled upwards, briefly obscuring my view of Jaxon as I asked, “How did you two even meet?”
Jaxon set down his cup and rubbed his chin. “To understand that, you should first know Dean’s backstory.”
He paused for a moment, his gaze distant and unseeing. “Dean never met the vampire who turned him. It wasn’t some great love affair where the vampire couldn’t live without him, or any of that other nonsense they write about. Dean was attending a state fair in Hutchinson, Kansas. He was attacked, and the vampire fed on him. The next thing he knew, he’s waking up on the side of the road as a vampire.”
“Why turn him and leave him?” I asked, taking a sip of the hot coffee.
“It happens when vampires are sloppy. If they don’t kill off the human when they drink from them, and they’ve injected them with enough venom, that person has roughly a fifty-fifty chance of coming back as a vampire, which Dean obviously did.” The café’s cozy atmosphere dimmed as Jaxon recounted the harrowing tale, and I gripped my mug tighter, its warmth seeping into my fingers.
“Dean had no idea how to navigate his new life.” Jaxon’s voice became tinged with sadness. “He was alone and scared, just trying to survive. That’s when our paths crossed.”
I leaned forward, captivated by the story while also feeling a pang of sympathy for the young man who’d been thrust into such a cruel existence. “It’s incredible you two even managed to find each other,” I murmured.
Jaxon nodded. “It is. Sometimes, the universe has a way of bringing people together when they need it most.”
I couldn’t tell if those words were about his meeting with Dean or with me.
The clatter of coffee cups and the murmur of cheerful conversation around us provided a stark contrast to the grim story my father continued to share. A chill ran down my spine despite the warmth of the café.
“Dean found himself caught up with the wolf shifter hunters,” Jaxon explained, his voice low and somber. “They took him in, promising protection from the vampire hunters who were after him. In exchange, they wanted him to help them track down what they called ‘vicious, monstrous werewolves.’”
I frowned, anger starting to simmer beneath the surface. The hunters had manipulated Dean so easily, but he was just a scared kid, trying to make the best of a shitty deal, desperate for safety. “So, he did their dirty work?”
Jaxon nodded, his expression darkening. “He did, but it didn’t take long for him to realize that the shifters they hunted weren’t monsters at all. Just frightened supernaturals like himself.”
