Blood and Buttercups (A Vampire’s Guide to Gardening #1)

Chapter 12

12

I blink at the man in front of me, dumbfounded. Finally, I say, “But your name is Noah.”

“Noah is my middle name, and that’s what my friends and family call me. Montgomery is my first name.”

I purse my lips, processing the information. “All right, but your family’s store is called ‘Howell’s Grocery.’ Isn’t that your last name?”

“That’s my grandfather’s last name—my mother’s father. When he retired, he passed it to my mom and dad. My last name is York.”

No.

It can’t be.

Because that means that Noah knows that I’m…

He knew all along.

Everything clicks into place, and I want to crawl under a rock.

Eyeing him warily, I sit on the recliner across from him.

He watches me, looking awfully nonchalant. “Did your doctor give you the encyclopedia of Vampiria B reading material?”

“Yes.”

“Did you read any of it?”

“Yeah.” My answers are clipped, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it.

“I have a few things I’m supposed to go over with you, and then we’ll head into the kitchen and you can take your first dose of your prescription.”

I narrow my eyes, pretty darn ticked he waited this long to tell me who he was. Long enough I started to think he was coming around because…because he wanted to.

More like babysitting, he said.

I draw in a deep breath through my nose and exhale slowly.

“You’re upset,” he says.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

“I don’t care who you are or what your job is—we will have boundaries.”

He cocks his head to the side, challenging me.

I lean forward, pinning him with my eyes. “You will not break into my house again.”

Noah leans forward as well, matching my stance. “You sent me a text saying your vampire stalker tried to contact you this morning and then you went silent. You think I’m going to ring your doorbell and shrug when you don’t answer?”

I open my mouth, but words don’t seem to be happening right now.

“Like it or not, Piper, I take my job seriously. You’re my only pre-vamp, and you just happen to be a high-priority one, with red flags all over your file. You’re going to see a lot of me.”

Okay, the appropriate response is anger. Obviously. Not…not whatever this hot, vining sensation in my stomach is.

“Now,” he says curtly, “can we please get back to our introductory meeting?”

I sit back, crossing my arms, nodding for him to continue.

Looking just as irritated as I feel, Noah clears his throat and then continues in a conversational tone, “First off, you don’t have to use the synthetic prescription blood. It has everything in it to keep you healthy, but some people can’t get used to the taste. There are companies that will ship you a variety of blood every week if you’d prefer something natural.”

“Are you serious? Like those mail-order meal kits, but for vampires ?”

If he wasn’t so agitated, I think he might laugh, but all I get out of him is a grim smile. “Something like that. There are many different varieties, from your basic heifer to exotic blends.”

“What the heck is exotic blood?”

“Bison, elk, alligator. They have sample packs where you can try several types and see what you like the best. Some people say bear tastes too wild, and antelope is oddly tangy?—”

I hold up a hand. “Next.”

“Human blood is illegal.”

“I’m not a cannibal,” I mutter.

“Most pre-vamps don’t crave it anyway—plus they don’t have the fangs to drain someone, so it’s generally not an issue. But we are required to bring it up.”

“It was in a pamphlet.”

“Great, moving on. You have to keep quiet about your illness. More people know about it than you might think—healthcare workers, police, government officials—but the general populace does not. There would be pandemonium if word spread. Think pitchforks and bonfires.”

“Isn’t it kind of impossible to hide something like this?”

“Of course it is. Why do you think there are so many vampire movies?”

I mull that over for a moment before I look at him. “Are there werewolves, too?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Noah’s expression becomes a little more relaxed, and his eyes brighten with humor. “But who knows? Maybe there’s another organization that handles them.”

“What should I call you?”

“Just call me Noah.”

Like his family does. For some reason, the thought sends a trickle of warmth straight to my heart.

“So…you’re a conservator,” I say. “You work for NIHA. And I’m the person you’re babysitting.”

Something wicked flashes in his eyes. “I told you my job had its perks.”

I point at him. “No flirting.”

“You started it.” He lifts his brows. “Pretty sure you called me hot and tempting last night.”

“It was dark. I was mistaken .”

He shrugs, annoyingly smug.

“How many people have you…”

“Babysat?” he supplies ever so helpfully.

I give him a wry look.

“Two,” he answers. “And then I was promoted.”

“To what?”

“Hunter.”

The word gives me chills. “Like…a vampire hunter?”

“It sounds more impressive than it is. I just arrest criminals and shuffle a lot of paperwork. Very rarely do I need my stakes.”

“Rarely?”

“It happens.” Noah stands. “Let’s heat up the blood.”

He says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Reluctantly, I follow him. Once we’re in the kitchen, he pulls a bottle from the fridge like he owns the place and sets it on the counter to warm.

I sit on a barstool, staring at the prescription. “Do I really have red flags in my file?”

“Not literal ones, but yeah.”

“Because I have a stalker?”

Noah studies me, pressing his hands to the counter. “And a dead ex.”

“What does that have to do with NIHA?”

“Maybe nothing.”

“But it’s weird, right? A murdered ex-boyfriend and a vampire stalker?”

“The timing is suspicious.”

“Do you think Ethan had something to do with Kevin’s death?”

“I think it’s likely.”

I slowly exhale, staring at the counter. “I’m still mad at you—you should have told me—but it’s a relief to have someone to talk to. I was feeling a little…”

“Lost?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what conservators are here for.”

I give him a droll look. “And apparently busting through doors.”

“That’s a service unique to me—you’re welcome.”

“So, what am I? Your…client? Ward?”

“We call you pre-vamps.”

“That’s great.”

Smiling, he picks up the prescription and gives it a swirl.

“Doesn’t it freak you out?” I ask.

“The blood?”

Biting my bottom lip, I nod.

“No.” The blasé way he says it makes me believe him.

“What about me…” I look at the cabinet behind him, focusing on a knot in the hickory. “Do I freak you out?”

“No.”

“I’m basically a baby monster.”

His smile grows. “A baby monster?”

“You know, larva stage.”

“That’s a unique way to look at it. Disturbing, and most certainly inaccurate, but unique.”

“I’m gross.”

“There’s nothing even remotely gross about you.”

I wish I believed him.

“For the record, diabetics don’t freak me out either,” he says. “Or people who need medicine to control their blood pressure.”

“It’s not the same, and you know it.”

“Your body now needs the combination of proteins found in blood in order to function correctly. It’s a supplement. Like a vitamin.”

“Yeah, okay. But before modern medicine got involved, vampires ate people, right?”

“The final stage of Vampiria B causes madness. To make matters worse, vampires’ bodies crave the proteins, and their heightened sense of smell detects them in living creatures. If they enter a starved state, whether by accident or choice, they become almost rabid. They lose their ability to think rationally, and things go badly.”

“Like…super hangry.”

Noah chuckles. “Exactly.”

“So, Ethan is basically insane?”

That doesn’t make me feel better. Not at all.

“We’ve developed medication to ease the symptoms, and as long as they stay on it and supplement their diet with prescription or animal blood, they’re mostly okay.”

“Why do you say it like they’re not okay?”

“Vampires are notorious for going off their medication. They’ll be feeling good, and…” He shakes his head, annoyed.

“You think Ethan went off his medication?”

“It’s hard to say.”

“The pamphlets didn’t go into detail on exactly how a vampire passes the virus.”

“That’s because we don’t want vampires creating more vampires.”

“Does it happen every time they bite someone? Like, let’s say they get peckish on a hike, and they forgot to bring their bottle of synthetic O positive, so they snack on a hiker. Will that hiker automatically become a vampire?”

“It’s like any disease. You can be exposed and not pick it up, depending on your immune system. But nine times out of ten, yes. Vampiria B passes from the vampire’s saliva into the victim’s bloodstream.”

I fidget on my barstool.

“What is it?” he asks.

I don’t want to ask him—I shouldn’t ask him.

“The doctor said I can date.” I slide my grandma’s napkin holder across the counter, focusing on straightening the contents instead of looking at him.

“You can.”

“But if there’s Vampiria B in my saliva, how can I kiss…someone?”

Though I’m looking down, I can feel his amusement.

“You’re just in the larva stage of monsterdom,” he teases. “Basically, your body fought off the virus. It affected you—changed you. But you’re not a carrier.”

“You don’t become a carrier until…”

“You’ve been bitten about three times. Sometimes as early as twice, but it’s usually three.”

“How would I know?”

“Your fangs would come in.”

“Fangs?”

“Vampires don’t grow their retractable fangs until the final stage, when they’re capable of passing the disease.”

“Creepy. What do you mean, retractable?”

“They form behind the canine teeth, and like a cat can retract her claws, a vampire can retract her fangs.”

“That’s why Ethan looks normal—his fangs were hidden.”

“Correct.”

“This is so weird. How can you be calm about it?”

“I’ve known about this for a little over ten years. You found out forty-eight hours ago. There’s an adjustment period.” He meets my eyes. “But back to your question, yes, you can kiss anyone you like.”

“I can’t because I’d never be able to tell them what I was. Who would want to date a vampire…a monster ?” I shudder, thinking of Ethan. “No, thank you.”

Noah watches me calmly, obviously not struggling like I am. Probably because, lucky him, it’s not something he has to deal with.

“Tell me about your other pre-vamps,” I say. “What were they like?”

“My first was a thirty-two-year-old housewife. Heather picked it up during vacation in Mexico. She was pretty sick initially, but recovered without any issues. We got her regulated, and she and her husband had their third baby a year and a half later. I get Christmas cards from her every year—she and her family are fine.”

“And your second?”

“He was a doctor involved in a car accident. Both he and the other driver—a vampire—sustained injuries. While he was giving the other driver medical care, an open wound came in contact with the vampire’s blood. It wasn’t a usual case and traumatic for everyone involved. Laws for accidental transfer hadn’t been established, and it went to court. The doctor requested all charges be dropped, and eventually they were, but it was a complicated process.”

“Is the doctor okay?”

“He retired a few years ago. Last I heard, he and his wife had moved to Florida.”

“So, my situation, where I was intentionally infected and the vampire is staying in touch…how common is that?”

Noah’s expression goes solemn. “Not very common. Most often, people are infected by rogue vampires who go off their meds—wrong place, wrong time sort of deals. Occasionally, we see people who have consentingly been infected by a partner or spouse, but they usually lie low since transmission is illegal and they already know how to navigate the changes.” He softens his tone. “But what happened to you was different. You were assaulted, and it sounds like the attack was premeditated. The courts punish these offenders severely. When we catch the man who did this to you—and I will catch him—he’s going to serve several life sentences.”

I swallow, twisting a napkin in my hands. “And until then?”

A welcome smile tugs at his lips. “You might want to give me a key so I don’t have to bust through your door again.”

“Are all conservators as skilled at breaking and entering as you?”

“Only the ones who are demoted hunters.”

“Is that a lot of you?”

“That’s only me.”

“So…I got lucky.”

A fast, hot smirk flashes across his face. He schools it quickly, but his eyes shine. “I thought you said no flirting?”

Suddenly, I’m seeing the situation in a new light. Noah isn’t just my conservator—he’s a bodyguard. Which sounds infinitely hotter and way more dangerous.

“I wasn’t.”

“You sure about that?”

“Are all hunters this cocky?”

“Only the good ones.”

“And you’re good?”

He lifts a brow, his eyes snaring mine. “Oh, Piper, I am very good.”

“No. Flirting.”

“I’m just stating facts.”

“You’ve been friend-zoned—remember it.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

My stomach clenches, and my skin flushes with sudden warmth.

“We need to talk about sleeping arrangements,” he says.

I narrow my eyes. “I sleep here, and you sleep in your parents’ basement like the cool guy you are. Moving on.”

“You have two options. You either temporarily stay with your brother, or I’m moving in with you.”

“I barely know you,” I hiss in a whisper, like someone could overhear the conversation in my empty house.

“I’m not suggesting whatever is making your cheeks pink. This is a big house. I think it’s a safe bet you have a guest bedroom. You in your room and me in mine. Roommates.”

“No.” I cross my arms. “Not happening.”

“Piper, you have a vampire stalker, and you live alone. You don’t even have a dog.”

“I’ll get a dog. A great big one.”

“ I’m your dog.”

I open my mouth and then laugh. “Too easy.”

“I’ll pay you room and board.”

My eyes sharpen on him. “How much?”

“A thousand a month.”

“For this house? In lovely Glenwood Springs, Colorado? Are you familiar with the current cost of living?”

“For a room. ”

I need that money. “Twelve hundred.”

“A thousand, and I’ll go with you to your markets and whatnot.”

“You have to do that anyway, don’t you?”

He smirks, knowing he’s already won this. “Yeah, but I don’t have to pull your wagon.”

Unable to help myself, I grin. “Fine.”

With that decided, Noah picks up the bottle and swirls it in a circle again, mixing it and testing the consistency. Apparently deciding the blood is warm enough to pour, he goes through my cupboards until he finds a juice glass. “How many ounces?”

“One.”

“Do you want it straight?”

“I don’t want it at all,” I say like a sulky child.

He pours the blood into the cup, eyeballing the amount, probably knowing better than I do what one ounce of blood looks like.

“Drink up.” He sets it in front of me with a clink of the glass against the granite.

Synthetic blood looks way too much like the real thing. It’s scarlet red and thicker than chocolate syrup.

“Just toss it back like a shot,” he adds.

“I don’t drink.”

Noah rolls his eyes like I’m being difficult. “Then take it like cough syrup—just get it over with.”

I pick up the glass, staring at the blood. One ounce isn’t a lot. Surely I can manage it.

Steeling myself, I gulp it all at once, gagging as soon as it hits my mouth. And then I promptly run to the sink and spit it out, barely able to avoid retching.

After having witnessed that sexy display, Noah hands me several paper towels.

I wipe my mouth, desperately wishing he hadn’t been here for that.

“It’s a normal reaction,” he says nonchalantly.

I slump back to my barstool. “Normal?”

“You’ll get used to it. Next time, let’s try it in a?—”

“If you say smoothie, I’m kicking you out of my house.”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “We’ll mix it in some juice.”

I’m not sure that’s much better.

I glare at the prescription bottle. “Has anyone tried to find a cure?”

“Hundreds of scientists and several labs are dedicated to researching Vampiria B.”

“No luck yet?”

Noah shakes his head. “Not yet. We were fortunate to get the synthetic blood.”

I rest my cheek on the granite countertop, not sure I’m going to make it as a pre-vamp.

“Hey, cheer up,” he says. “I’ll make you a steak, and we’ll try again tonight.”

“It’s not even noon yet.”

He almost smiles. “I’ll fry some eggs on the side.”

Anything sounds better than blood.