White Winter (The Black Year Series Book 2) (5 page)

Jonas nodded. “There’s a glamour over everything.” He could feel the subtle influence getting past his mental barrier, so faint it was just slipping through, making everyone his childhood friend, every day the best day since yesterday. He felt a strong urge to be nice to old people and almost got out of the hearse to right a trashcan that had tipped over, but two kids beat him to it. “Maybe this is what it’s like to live in Canada,” he said.

Kieran snorted. “Let’s go find some food; I’m starving.”

They stopped at a warm, bustling diner. A young couple stood up as they walked in and left without saying a word.

“Excuse me, Miss?” Jonas said to the waitress, “those people just walked out without paying.”

She giggled and touched his upper arm. “We don’t use money here, sweetie. Why don’t you and your friend sit down, I’ll bring you some menus.” He read the name Lucy off her nametag. She looked about 19, pretty, with full red lips and sparkling blue eyes.

Kieran nudged him. “You’re staring,” he said, grinning.

Jonas blushed. “Like you weren’t,” he muttered. He made his way to the table that had just been vacated, which turned out to be the only empty one in the diner.

“That’s pretty convenient,” Jonas said.

Kieran nodded as he sat, and they both looked around the room.

It was like they’d stumbled into a family reunion. Every table, stool, and booth was full of men, women, and children who looked happy, healthy, and intimate. Even people who were clearly unrelated shared tables, talked to each other, made faces at other people’s kids. The number of Christmas sweaters was alarming.

“Be right with you,” Lucy said, clearing the table. Jonas noticed two puncture marks on the inside of each wrist. The ones on the right arm were more faded than the ones on the left.

“Did you see her wrists?” he whispered to Kieran.

“I was distracted,” Kieran said, and wagged his eyebrows.

Jonas felt his eyes prickle. For a second, he’d felt like Phillip Macready had been sitting across from him instead of Kieran.

“Here you go,” Lucy said, putting two menus and two glasses of water on the table. She frowned slightly, placing her hand on Jonas’ shoulder, and asked, “You okay, sweetie?”

Her hand was warm, her grip light, her thumb rubbing his shoulder, the perfect comforting touch. “I’m fine,” Jonas said. “Could you tell me how you got that scar on your wrist?”

“What?” she said, pulling her hand back to look at it. “Oh, that. It’s from feeding the vampire, but you should know that, shouldn’t you?”

“So you know we’re from the Agency?” Kieran asked.

“Sure, hun, we all know that.” Someone waved at her from another table. “I’ll be right back.” She walked off, her ponytail swinging behind her.

When he turned back, Kieran was already looking at the menu. “Doesn’t this bother you?” Jonas said.

“What?” Kieran said without looking up.

“The glamour, the people, the feeding on people… I thought werewolves didn’t like this stuff.”

“You’re right, werewolves don’t like it when you people brainwash us into digging or logging until we drop dead. This…” he said, eyes darting to Lucy’s back, “I could get used to this.”

♘

They toured the town, visiting stores, workshops, a few car repair shops, even people’s homes. Some went out of their way to invite Jonas and Kieran over, but Jonas thought he could have asked anyone to let him in and they would have. He tested the theory; the old man ushered them in and offered them tea.

“You don’t think this is a little weird, letting strangers into your home?” Jonas asked, accepting a cup of Earl Grey and a butter biscuit from a tin box.

“Of course it’s ‘weird,’ young man. So is having a vampire drink from your wrist once a month, not that I have to do that anymore.”

“You don’t?” Kieran said.

“Too old,” the man said. “He takes them from fifteen to fifty-five, less risk of a heart-attack that way. I did it for the first two years.”

He took a sip of his tea, eyeing them with interest. Jonas drank some too, though it had too much lemon in it for his tastes.

“So why did you let us in?”

“Because if I don’t, you’ll take him away,” the old man answered. Before Jonas could speak, he continued, “Look, we go through these inspections every year, and we know it’s for our safety, but having the vampire here saved us. The town was failing. I lost my pension when the mine went under, and mining ages you, young man, believe me.” Jonas was polite enough not to nod. He looked like he was 70 or 80. “Instead of losing everything, we’ve had a few years of joy, of working for the good of the community, and anything we sell to the outside world gets split evenly so we’ll have something to live off when he leaves.”

Jonas frowned. “You think he’ll fail the inspection?”

The old man chuckled and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. We’ve just built up an immunity, over time.”

Jonas nodded; Deputy Davison had said the same thing.

“I can feel the arthritis creeping back into my hands and wrists, so it won’t be long, but God willing I’ll have one or two more years of being able to lift my grandchildren and making my own tea.” His eyes wavered, and the smile slid from his face. “I heard we’ll forget, that he’ll leave us with what we built, but only a vague memory of what happened. Is that’s true?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know.”

The old man nodded silently, rubbing his hands, then offered them more tea. Jonas declined, thanking him for his time, and they moved on.

♘

As afternoon gave way to evening, they returned to the diner, having spoken to more than 20 residents and their families. Not everyone liked the arrangement, but everyone was here by choice and those who wanted the vampire gone were willing to wait a year or two to stay with their loved ones.

“Can I get you something else, hun?” Lucy said to Kieran.

The young werewolf finished chewing, then said, “No, thank you,” before cutting off another piece of steak.

The diner was mostly empty, because most people had dinner with friends and family. The pretty, young waitress had come to sit at their table, making sure they had enough to eat and drink but mostly picking at a chicken salad quietly.

“When do you get off work?” Jonas asked her.

She gave him a tired smile, and said, “You’re a little young for me, Jonas.”

Jonas felt his face flush, and Kieran stayed perfectly still for a moment. “I was trying to figure out how long you worked each day,” Jonas said, picking up his cheeseburger and hiding behind it.
Sunlight and food, the best part of being half human
, he thought.

“I start work at noon, and we usually close at six, but no later than eight. The vampire’s big on eight hours of work, play, and sleep.”

Jonas nodded. Everything in Temperance seemed almost utopian. “And it doesn’t bother you that none of this is real?” he said between mouthfuls.

“Do you think I’m pretty, Jonas?” Lucy asked.

Jonas coughed. Kieran looked like he was about to answer for Jonas, but Lucy stroked his forearm and said, “I know you think I’m pretty, hun. A blind woman could see that.”

Kieran shrugged and went back to his meal.

Jonas looked at Lucy, trying to see through the glamour. It really bothered him that he couldn’t pierce it. She had the fine, turned up nose of a teen movie star, perfectly shaped eyebrows, and her smooth skin almost glowed with health. “From what I can tell, you’re beautiful.”

Lucy nodded, as if it couldn’t be any other way. “I’ve been under the vampire’s spell, or influence - whatever you want to call it - since I was ten. I was all knees and elbows back then, and I wore glasses. Now I eat salads and exercise, so I’ll be fit, but I don’t know if I’ll be beautiful when he’s gone. Maybe I’ll just be normal. I’ll have to get used to that,” she said.

Kieran finished the last bite, and turned to watch the sun set through the window that ran the entire length of the diner. Jonas followed his gaze. It looked like a disc of molten gold had set the mountains aflame, red light painting the snow covered pines in scarlet, crimson, and carmine, and Jonas was suddenly very aware of the pulse in Lucy’s slender neck.

“Excuse me,” he said. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, swiped the keys from the table, and walked out into the cold. The wind had picked up, carrying small flurries of snow that looked like sparks from a fire when the dying light touched them.

He leaned in over the center console and grabbed one of the silver packets from his backpack, pulled the tab, and waited for it to warm in his hands. He sipped and managed to stop halfway through it, before drinking the rest, a vast improvement over the blackouts he experienced when he first started drinking blood.

When he got back inside, shaking the snow off his boots, Kieran and Lucy looked… awkward. “Did I miss something?” Jonas said.

“Kieran tried to order off the menu,” she said, giving Kieran a shy smile.

Jonas just felt more confused.

“I asked her out,” Kieran said, “but she has a long-time boyfriend.”

“We all kind of find each other, as we grow up. No one’s single if they don’t want to be, and there hasn’t been a divorce in eight years,” she said.

The bell on the door jangled, and the vampire they’d transported from New York stood in the entryway. The sun was below the mountains.

“Time to go,” the enforcer said.

CHAPTER 5

They met in the parking lot. Jonas sat in the passenger seat, legs dangling out, car on and heat on high because the temperature had plummeted with the sun and he didn’t feel like wasting blood. Kieran and the enforcer stood, ignoring the cold.

“Go ahead and give me your report,” the enforcer told Kieran.

Kieran looked at Jonas for permission; Jonas nodded.

“The town is doing well, considering they lost their primary source of revenue. There are no signs of abuse or unexplained deaths, but several people have noticed the illusion is weakening. They expect the puppeteer to move on within the next year or two. Most of them seem happy, though the deputy sheriff seemed a little off to me.”

The enforcer turned to Jonas and said, “Anything to add?”

Jonas looked at the enforcer, a vampire with a blank, almost bored, expression frozen on his face, his heavy, charcoal colored trench coat left open. “It’d be nice to know your name, first,” he said.

The enforcer smiled. It was a genuine, friendly expression that surprised Jonas and made him feel like he was taking things too seriously. “I’m here as a favor to the Director, haven’t decided if I’m going to stay up or go back into storage. Are you satisfied all is well in Temperance?”

Jonas frowned. “You didn’t—”

“I asked first,” he said, shrugging, making Jonas feel like he was being entirely unreasonable.

Jonas ignored him.
Sam?
he thought.

I’m working on it,
Sam answered, sounding irritated.

When Jonas first started getting his brain ransacked by other vampires, he’d freaked, afraid to fall asleep or let his guard down for a moment. It didn’t take long for his brain to break off a piece of itself to handle the problem. Sam maintained Jonas’ barrier and kept track of all the other guardians running around Jonas’ head. Jonas sometimes worried about the OCD version of himself living in his skull, but it was better than doing the job himself and winding up counting the number of tiles on the bathroom floor.

Jonas felt Sam’s sense of smugness as he plugged the breach in the barrier, and turned his attention back to the enforcer who was watching him with interest. “I like to know who I’m dealing with,” Jonas said, crossing his arms.

The enforcer’s friendly expression melted back into neutrality. “Damien Wilde, at your service,” he said, extending his hand. Jonas stood up and took it, and Damien immediately shook his head. “Never shake a vampire’s hand, Jonas. Physical contact makes it easier to breach your barrier.”

“I know.” Jonas formed his will into what felt like a wedge and drove it into Damien’s mind, or tried to, because he ran into what felt like a bank vault door.

Damien smile stayed fixed, but wrinkles appeared briefly at the corner of his eyes. “Your mother’s son, through and through,” he said.

Kieran was watching the two of them warily.

“I apologize, Jonas,” Damien said, pushing the trench coat back and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Evaluating you is part of why I’m here, and the other is to visit an old friend. If you have questions, I’ll answer them.”

Jonas sat back down, trying to hide the fact he felt lightheaded from bouncing off Damien’s barrier. “What did you mean by ‘going back into storage?’” he asked.

Damien raised three fingers and wiggled them. “There are three ways a vampire survives his two-hundredth birthday.” He counted off. “He can go crazy, and if he’s harmless, the Agency will leave him alone. He can find an anchor - a focus of some kind - and that will keep him from wearing capes and stalking people who look like long-dead lovers. Or he can go into storage, which is my preferred method. It’s like hibernation. They seal you in a container full of blood, and you sleep through the boring bits of the play until something new and interesting comes along.”