Page 96 of Saving Her Vampire
“Who was the last person you had in a file?”
“He was doing things to kids that I won’t talk about.”
“You probably saved others from going through that. That’s noble.” I know those kinds of things happen, but hearing how much is disturbing. I admire what he is doing. He has the power to do it, so why should I stop him?
“Noble,” he scoffs. “I won’t stop you from thinking that way.”
“I won’t stop you from doing it,” I assure him.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“How long does this take?” I ask.
“Not much longer.”
The squish of body parts is making me nauseous. “Good.” I didn’t bat an eye when I killed him but seeing this process is different. I need to work on the badass vampire thing.
***
We blur to the apartment, and I’m anxious to wash off the blood. I freeze when we step out of the elevator.
“Mom? Dad?” I ask in shock. Bash almost ran into my back when I stopped abruptly.
“Marie,” Mom cries. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Pumpkin, we decided to pop over,” Dad says.
“Pop over,” I repeat. “How did you know where I was?”
“Well, we tracked you,” Dad says.
“Tracked me?” I ask, surprised.
“Let’s not get into that now. Are you going to introduce us to your man?” Mom asks.
“Bash, this is my Mom and Dad,” I say weakly. “Robert and Marina.” Bash nods slowly.
“Should we go inside?” Mom asks. “You really should clean the blood off, dear.”
How could I forget we are both covered in blood? “Uh–”
“Being a vampire must be exciting,” Mom says calmly.
“Uh—” What?
Bash takes over and goes to the door, opening it for my parents. I give him big eyes as I pass him, to which he shrugs.
“This is super nice,” Mom gushes, walking around.
My mom looks like she could be my grandmother. Her salt-and-pepper hair is short and fluffed. She’s in a flowy floral shirt and capris. Dad has brown hair that is graying at the temples. He likes to wear shorts and t-shirts. No matter what season it is, he refuses to wear anything else. They are looking around the apartment, seemingly fascinated, as if they didn’t just drop a bomb on me.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask.
“Language, dear,” Mom scolds.
“Please tell me how you know about vampires?”
“Why don’t you both clean up, and then we can talk,” Dad suggests.