With that epiphany, I push forward, trying to also to push the self-criticism aside.
Through the last block of Were Alley, streetlamps cast brilliant light and bleach the walkways. Beyond the light waits an inky night absent of stars. If it weren’t for the full moon, there would simply be blackness, and the circumspection I’ve come to know as a friend.
Night hasn’t been simply night in a long time. Like a famished animal, it prowls the region, anxious to feast once it’s shoved away the sun.
And speaking of entities who love to feast…Oh, Misha. Why did I have to try your BYTEME app?
I thought my perky sister Shayna was pulling my leg when she told me that the local master vampire had developed a dating app for supernaturals. It makes sense with so many members of the mystical community in the area, and from what I hear, it’s grown his already massive fortune.
Dating humans is dangerous for beings of magic, more especially for the humans. Despite my apprehensions, I tried it, following more than a little encouragement from my sisters.
“Dude, you have to put yourself out there,” Shayna told me.
“No, shit,” Taran agreed. “You want to die a miserable old wench like Mancuso over there?” she asked, hooking a thumb in our neighbor’s direction.
Like a very irate deer, Mrs. Mancuso popped out of the bushes, wielding two very stiff middle fingers instead of antlers.
As I mentioned, I gave it a go and, well, here I am.
My phone rings. I know it’s Shayna long before the image of her grinning face appears. Her upbeat personality perpetually shines through.
“How’s it going?” she sings.
Shayna always speaks with gusto. I wish I had that much gusto. Goodness, right now, I’d settle with a dash of perk. “We went back to his place,” I admit.
“You did?” Shayna asks. Her voice loses its cheer as she picks up on my lack of enthusiasm.
“Yes. He wanted to fetch his keys so he could take us on a nice, romantic drive along Lake Tahoe.”
Shayna sighs. “There weren’t any keys, were there, dude?”
“No, but there were plenty of testicles,” My blush stings my cheeks. “We went from a nice dinner to him standing naked in front of me.”
“Mm. I take it that’s when he whipped out the one more than required testicles?” Shayna guesses.
“Yes, all three of them.”
“Aw, Em. I’m so sorry. The important thing is you tried. Just give me a sec to get my sword and be on my way.”
“Shayna, no. You don’t have to—”
She, of course, ignores me to speak to her monstrosity of a husband, Koda. “Puppy, I’ll be right back…What...To pick up Emme…She went out with some guy with three testicles she found on Misha’s dating app…That’s right, three...No, I’m not making this up. Why would I make this up...Yes, I’m taking a sword…Well, because he tried to feel up Emme.”
The growls that follow are enough to rupture my eardrum.
“Koda, no…no…I’ll take care of it…Puppy, you stay in bed all sexy like and wait for me.” Shayna drops her voice, whispering low into the phone as if Koda can’t hear loud and clear. “We were playing Quaker Oat guy meets Naughty Pilgrim. Between you and me, Koda’s getting really good at churning butter—”
More growls followed by several bouts of swearing. “Puppy, don’t throw your wig on the floor like that. I paid a lot of money for it…Emme will not tell everyone about the butter churning, will you, Em?”
“I really won’t,” I admit.
“See?” Shayna says. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Shayna, I already took care of Ted,” I assure her.
“What’d you do to him, dude?” she asks. “Wanna make sure it measures up to what the ol’ bugger deserves.”
“I, ah, sort of threw him out a window,” I admit.
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” I reply. I step around a puddle, wishing she hadn’t called so soon.
“How many stories?”
“Three,” I say, remembering.
“One for each teste?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Seems only fair.”
I cross the street at the walkway and cut left.
“It’s okay, Koda,” Shayna adds quickly. “Don’t get dressed. Emme took care of business and told that guy and his floppy hairy bits what for...What…You didn’t need to hear that…Then why’d you go and ask?”
Shayna is preoccupied with Ted’s body parts and that’s fine with me. I don’t want to tell her about what Ted said to me. It would only further upset my family. I also don’t mention that presence I briefly experienced. The weres in the neighborhood took charge to defend their territory and telling them will only pull them away from the uh, unique evening they planned.
It wasn’t that long ago we took on a necromancer and an army of zombies. They can use the rest and private time.
“I can still come getcha,” Shayna offers. “We can stop for ice cream on the way back. All the butter churning made me hungry if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, and please don’t elaborate,” I beg.
I lower the volume, embarrassed someone might hear her only to grimace at the multitude of texts Taran sends.
Did you burn that shit up?
You should have burned that shit up.
I would have burned that shit up.
Son of a bitch.
Who does he think he is, waving his junk like flags in the wind?
Hell, he didn’t wave those flags in your face, did he?
That’s just nasty.
I text back, no, and thank Taran for that rather descriptive visual. I groan and push away a strand of hair away from my face. “Shayna, you told Taran?” I ask.
“Totally,” she admits. “Texted her as soon as you told me all the dirty deets, Em.” Her voice quiets and grows a little sad. “We still tell each other everything, don’t we?”
No. Not anymore.
“Em?” she says.
“Yes, I’m still here,” I assure her.
“You want to do me one and go for ice cream
