Phantom of the Library - Lidiya Foxglove Page 0,77
her. We don’t know. But sometimes things just happen, I guess. I didn’t want to be a vampire, that’s for sure. The blood lust is awful and Gaston says it gets hard about thirty years in when your friends start aging past you. But there’s no use crying over something you can’t help. Gaston said there are some gifts that come out of it too, and he’ll help me through it.”
“My family is more likely to nurse a grievance for the rest of their lives than to just say que sera sera.”
“Well, you gave that up, huh? You’re just a peasant like the rest of us, is that how it works? Do you feel any different?”
“I do feel a little different,” I said. “Lighter. Like I don’t have to prove anything or be anything.”
“But you’re still Jake’s Baroness.” She grinned and I waved as he moved past us with a wheelbarrow full of potted plants to spruce up the landscaping around the new addition.
“Hey, back to work, huh?” he said. “Lunch is over.”
“You’ve been a slave driver this week!” I said. “It’s almost Christmas! We can rest a little. You already dragged me out of bed at six am.”
“That is all the more reason not to rest!” he said. “We could have this done by Christmas! Then we can rest. You think Kiersten and Caleb are resting?”
“Yeah,” Billie said, folding a stick of gum into her mouth. “They went home to their kids for the whole week.”
Jake looked like he was about to catch fire. “Well, fuck them! We can beat them while they’re off their game!”
“Yikes,” I said, as Jasper came up behind him with a mop and a bucket of cleaning supplies. They were both working like crazy on the addition.
“Wait a minute…,” I said. “Did you invite anyone for Christmas?”
They looked at each other. They looked at me.
My eyes widened in horror. “Did you invite your parents?”
“They’ll love you,” Jake said. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
I shrieked. “You don’t surprise me with something like that! Oh my god! When are they coming? Are you sure they’re going to be okay with—like—all of us?”
“Sure they are,” Jasper said. “They know the whole story.”
“I need to go buy a party dress or—or—how long?”
“Hel, they’re wolves. You don’t need to wear anything but jeans and flannel,” Jake said. “And we got you some flannel for Christmas. I guess if you want to open it early—“
“I am going to punch you,” I said. “Flannel!?”
“You’ll look so cute in it,” Jasper said. “You can’t spend the Christmas season without wearing flannel.”
“We’re going shopping,” Billie said. “You can’t just spring that on us. I thought we weren’t having a real Christmas. We already kinda celebrated Hannukah with Maya looking like a bunch of slobs.”
“I hope she doesn’t try to kidnap our dad. I know he’ll want to inspect the basement.”
“Inspect?” I said.
“Yeah, Dad’s our worst critic,” Jake said. “That’s why we’re freaking out. But he’ll be nice to you, so don’t worry. That’s just how he is.”
“Byron! Graham! Do you know the Sullivan parents are coming for Christmas?” I asked as I ran into the house to grab my wallet.
“No…,” Graham said. They were finishing up the tile in the second bathroom. “But I’m excited to meet them.”
“You’re so chill…”
“I could use some new clothes.”
“You already have nice suits and stuff. I need clothes.”
“Well, I don’t have any festive sweaters or anything.”
“Festive…sweaters.” I stared at him. “I was willing to forgive you for having carpet in your living room, but now you’re telling me that you own festive sweaters?”
“Lots of people own festive sweaters.”
“You are an incubus demon now.” I pointed at him. “You are sexy and suave at all times. No festive sweaters.”
“I will melt your panties in a festive sweater,” Graham said, giving me a look of slight—but genuine—irritation. “Let’s go shopping.”
Christmas was shaping up into a real clash of wardrobes. The Sullivan brothers practically bullied me into a soft flannel shirt from L. L. Bean that looked way too much like what they were wearing and Graham trolled me in a sweater with a sloth wearing a Christmas hat. I had no idea about the things normal humans were into. And worse, he was right. He still managed to look sexy. Byron was wearing a suit from the 1970s.
“Wait—was that what you were wearing when you died?”
“I had it dry cleaned. And I’m alive now, so it’s fine.”
The doorbell rang. I could already hear an unsettling amount of