her father couldn’t afford it. Ophelia knew nothing about her work. It’d be too risky to pretend she was a coworker from the nursing home. Her father was insanely private, so they never had anyone over to repair anything.
“Maybe it’s just time you brought a damn friend over.”
Her father might actually buy that. “Fine. How did we meet?” Calli maneuvered through Freemont’s streets. Demetrius’ facility was several miles out of town so she and Ophelia were using the drive to fabricate a story.
“What do you do for fun?”
“As far as my father knows, nothing.”
“Girl, you are twenty-four damn years old. Why the hell is your father dictating your every move?”
I ask myself that every day. “It’s a long story.”
Ophelia gave an mmm-hmm and stared out the window.
“How about the library?” Calli offered. “I go there sometimes in the winter. When it gets darker earlier I can get there before they close.”
“Try not to get too wild.” Ophelia sounded so patronizing, Calli wanted to dump her out of the car yelling “tuck and roll!”
“I do other stuff, but it’s nothing my father knows about or would approve of. Why I keep it secret from him, and why he’d care if he knew, is my business.”
“Let me be the first to give you a head’s up. If your father really is possessed by a demon, then we need to know your business.”
“Until then, keep your judgment to yourself, Ophelia.”
Calli felt those shrewd gold eyes fall back on her. “Judging others has kept me alive. It’s kept my team alive. So this is it: we met at the library, two vampires who like to read old human shit, and we got to talking. You don’t go out much, I’m new to town, we hit it off. We got to discussing books and you want to show me what you have at home. Good enough?”
“What’s your last name?”
“For now, it’ll be Johnson.”
“That’s not a very vampire last name.”
“No, it’s a blend-into-society last name. My very vampire last name would make your dad suspicious. We should also use a different first name. Ophelia is too distinct. How about Lia?”
“Nice to meet you Lia Johnson.” Calli glanced over and saw Ophelia’s lips quirk. There was hope for this “friendship” yet.
“Backatcha, Callista.”
“Oh, you can call me Calli.”
“Done. Is this it?” Ophelia sat forward and Calli wondered if she’d say anything about the condition of her house. “Not what I expected.”
“Yes.” Calli didn’t elaborate or make excuses; she knew the state of disrepair became more obvious as each year passed.
She pulled into the garage, cringing. Ophelia looked down the expanse of empty space, briefly resting on her father’s Rolls, then looking back at Calli.
“Are you sure you’re being upfront?”
“My father might’ve been on the council, but when my mother ran off, she took all of our funds. Since Demetrius took over, we’ve had little income.” Calli shrugged, her resentment toward the handsome male rose back to a simmer.
It was easy to blame him; even easier after she’d met him.
“Your family’s financial state is something we should know about. It could be the motivation behind your father seeking demonic assistance.”
“We’ve been broke for years. My father never recovered from my mother leaving him.”
“Calli.” Ophelia had the same tone as TV detectives. “Your father lost his job last year. Your mother left how many years ago?”
“Seventeen.” Seventeen next week on her birthday to be exact.
“So for all those years, he had a hell of an income, even if your mom wiped him out when she left. Where did it all go?”
Calli shrugged, uncomfortable airing her family’s dirty laundry. “We had servants for a few years, but eventually my father whittled it down to one who attempted to keep up with maintenance. We had to let him go a few years back.”
“Okaaay. But council members had whole teams of staff working for them and still had enough
“Maybe it’s just time you brought a damn friend over.”
Her father might actually buy that. “Fine. How did we meet?” Calli maneuvered through Freemont’s streets. Demetrius’ facility was several miles out of town so she and Ophelia were using the drive to fabricate a story.
“What do you do for fun?”
“As far as my father knows, nothing.”
“Girl, you are twenty-four damn years old. Why the hell is your father dictating your every move?”
I ask myself that every day. “It’s a long story.”
Ophelia gave an mmm-hmm and stared out the window.
“How about the library?” Calli offered. “I go there sometimes in the winter. When it gets darker earlier I can get there before they close.”
“Try not to get too wild.” Ophelia sounded so patronizing, Calli wanted to dump her out of the car yelling “tuck and roll!”
“I do other stuff, but it’s nothing my father knows about or would approve of. Why I keep it secret from him, and why he’d care if he knew, is my business.”
“Let me be the first to give you a head’s up. If your father really is possessed by a demon, then we need to know your business.”
“Until then, keep your judgment to yourself, Ophelia.”
Calli felt those shrewd gold eyes fall back on her. “Judging others has kept me alive. It’s kept my team alive. So this is it: we met at the library, two vampires who like to read old human shit, and we got to talking. You don’t go out much, I’m new to town, we hit it off. We got to discussing books and you want to show me what you have at home. Good enough?”
“What’s your last name?”
“For now, it’ll be Johnson.”
“That’s not a very vampire last name.”
“No, it’s a blend-into-society last name. My very vampire last name would make your dad suspicious. We should also use a different first name. Ophelia is too distinct. How about Lia?”
“Nice to meet you Lia Johnson.” Calli glanced over and saw Ophelia’s lips quirk. There was hope for this “friendship” yet.
“Backatcha, Callista.”
“Oh, you can call me Calli.”
“Done. Is this it?” Ophelia sat forward and Calli wondered if she’d say anything about the condition of her house. “Not what I expected.”
“Yes.” Calli didn’t elaborate or make excuses; she knew the state of disrepair became more obvious as each year passed.
She pulled into the garage, cringing. Ophelia looked down the expanse of empty space, briefly resting on her father’s Rolls, then looking back at Calli.
“Are you sure you’re being upfront?”
“My father might’ve been on the council, but when my mother ran off, she took all of our funds. Since Demetrius took over, we’ve had little income.” Calli shrugged, her resentment toward the handsome male rose back to a simmer.
It was easy to blame him; even easier after she’d met him.
“Your family’s financial state is something we should know about. It could be the motivation behind your father seeking demonic assistance.”
“We’ve been broke for years. My father never recovered from my mother leaving him.”
“Calli.” Ophelia had the same tone as TV detectives. “Your father lost his job last year. Your mother left how many years ago?”
“Seventeen.” Seventeen next week on her birthday to be exact.
“So for all those years, he had a hell of an income, even if your mom wiped him out when she left. Where did it all go?”
Calli shrugged, uncomfortable airing her family’s dirty laundry. “We had servants for a few years, but eventually my father whittled it down to one who attempted to keep up with maintenance. We had to let him go a few years back.”
“Okaaay. But council members had whole teams of staff working for them and still had enough
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