Chapter
1

            In
my dreams I am happy. I have a home and a family, everything I’ve always
dreamed of, even after the day arrived that I aged out of the state program. It
is always a good dream, and I never want to wake. In this dream I have loving
parents, siblings, and more cousins than I know what to do with. Waking just
takes all of that away. It means once again facing a shithole apartment that my
wages and tips barely manage to cover, and as with many mornings, it also accompanies
whatever consequences are waiting for me from any foolish activities I’d
indulged in the night before.

Like many mornings,
I wake with my mouth tasting like old leather, the morning light pulsing nauseatingly
behind my eyes, and my stomach threatening to heave with even the slightest
movement. I groan, well aware that all the signs are in place for yet another
morning suffering from the bitch of all hangovers. I lick my parched lips
experimentally. The sour taste of whiskey still lingers on my bottom lip making
my stomach twist. Bile rises in my throat and I shove my face into the pillow, breathing
slowly until the urge to puke passes.

 “I need to either pick a new vocation, or stop
drinking with Jinx,” I moan, wincing at the raw sound of my own voice.  Not only does it sound like I gargled with
glass the night before, but it also increases the strength of the headache
beating behind my eyes. Jinx, the night manager and unofficial muscle during
the closing shift, makes it difficult to resist having a few after hour drinks once
we’ve out the last of their patrons in the early hours of the morning.

After locking the
door, we salute with shots of whiskey and then proceed to drink each other
under the table, an activity for which I always suffered the next morning. Every
afternoon when I go in, I promise myself that I wouldn’t drink with him, and
every night we end up plastered singing Disney soundtracks of all things.

My brow furrows.
Last night we sang through the entire soundtrack of Lion King. Mortification
rears its ugly head as a memory crawls through the alcohol induced fog of my
brain. After the third refrain of Can You Feel the Love Tonight, I’d broken
down and sobbed into my drink until Jinx had gently pried my hand off the shot
glass and bundled me into a cab. The fact that it wasn’t the first time I’ve
been a completely wreck in front of my best friend is the only thing that made
it possible for me to go in tonight able and face him just like any other day.
That, and the fact that he got me this job when I had really needed something. Jinx
is my one consistency in life that I can depend on. I never had to hide
anything from him.

Together since we
were thirteen and ended up at the same foster home together, we’ve been inseparable
after I’d blackened the eye of an older boy who’d been bullying Jinx. Back then
he’d been five foot nothing, scrawny, pale and possessing the brightest shock
of red hair I’d ever seen on anyone. Like many girls my age, I was taller and
thicker than many of the boys, my curling black hair doing little to lessen the
affect as it always seemed to puff out around my head like an unruly lion’s
mane even then. He’d affectionately called me his champion ever since, even
after he’d hit his growth spurt when he was sixteen and shot up to a starting
six-foot-two over the course of a summer. Only Jinx would I trust to get me
hammered and make sure I got safely home.

            I
am wondering what could have possibly woken me, when the persistent ring of my phone
penetrates through to my brain. Not for the first time I chastise myself for
keeping it on the old tv tray at my bedside as I crack one eyelid open. Big
mistake. I yelp and instantly regret it when the light coming through my
bedroom window burns mercilessly into my brain. Screwing my eye tightly shut, I
am determined to ignore it and go back to my much-needed sleep. I relax when
the ringing stops, voicemail delivering me from the evil of whoever was calling,
but two minutes later the phone begins ringing again, the shrill sound
threatening my sanity. What did I ever do to deserve this merciless hell?

            Snatching
up the phone, I press the receive button and hold it against my ear. “I don’t
know who this is, but you better be injured or dying.”

            “Kora,
get your perky ass up, and no threatening dismemberment this morning,” Jinx chirps
cheerfully.

            “I
loathe you,” I lie, my lips curving into a small smile despite myself. “How is
it you never have a hangover?”

            “Probably
a case of being lucky or just having good genes,” he quips.

            “I
am still not disregarding the vampire theory.”

            “I
suspect if I were a vampire, I would be the one still in bed and even more
surly than you to be awake right now.”

I don’t even have
to be face to face to know that his eyes are likely dancing with puckish
laughter, his sexy dimples flashing in his cheeks. It is a shame that kissing
him is too much like kissing my own brother. We’d made at once the first time we
got drunk together, and neither of us had been drunk enough to forget just how
bad it had been.

            “Give
me time, I will narrow it down.”

            “Now
babe, the fae and their pals have only recently reemerged. If anyone is to be pegged
for a vampire, it would have to be Drew.”

            I
groan with laughter. He is so wrong. Drew, the other closing bartender is about
twenty-five and sports that baby vampire-goth look, complete with false fangs.

            “His
fangs are completely fake.”

            “Decoys,
love. How better to hide you’re a vampire than telling everyone you are into
the vampire aesthetic lifestyle. No one takes the fake fangs seriously. Mission
accomplished.”

            I
stretches, my leg pushing aside the heavy weight of my cat laying beside me as
I run my free hand through my hair, scratching lightly at my scalp. Already I’m
starting to feel a bit more alive, I just need about two cans of coke, a
crap-ton of aspirin, and I’ll be wide awake and ready to start my day.

            Holding
the phone against my ear, I pad barefoot to the other side of my stupid studio
apartment and yank open the fridge. The light is gentle, but I still squints
against it as I pull out a cola, set it on the counter and take out a bottle of
aspirin from a drawer. I crack the can open and swallow down a mouthful of the
elixir along with three pills as Jinx is going on about vampire conspiracy
theories.

            “Jinx,
you know I love you, but you are crazy.”

            “Just
you wait and see, babe, monsters walk among us.”

            “I
am sure they do, but I think they are a bit harder to miss,” I return. “They have
no reason to hide. They could pulverize us with little effort.”

“Look, just hear
me out. You are a lonely vampire looking to find a missus, wouldn’t it be
easier to play to our fantasies and join a safe aesthetic crowd where you can
find the lady of your dreams, or your next meal, rather than advertise it?”

            “Fair
enough,” I concede as I take another deep swallow.

            A
plaintive meow pulls my attention to a large stripped tabby looking up at me
expectantly with wide yellow eyes.

            “Hey
Jack baby, are you ready for breakfast?”

            “Are
you talking to Jack-o’-lantern again?”

            I
hum in agreement as I dig through the cupboard for a tin of Friskies, and Jinx
sighs. He knows better than to speak ill of my baby. He’d shown up last Halloween
crying pitiful around the complex dumpster, as orange as my carved pumpkin
which earned him the rather odd moniker. Over the last year, he had not only been
a faithful loving companion but also an excellent mouser keeping my home
pest-free. A gem for this neighborhood.

            Opening
a can labeled salmon, I dump it into a small ceramic bowl and set it in front
of Jack. The cat looks at it balefully for a minute, as if considering whether
or not it is worth eating before he starts to peck at it. Apparently, it passes
inspection because he begins to eat with gusto. I lean back against the counter
and rub my temple.

            “Jinx,
was there a particular reason you have called before noon?”

            “Yep.
You need to get dressed because I am literally climbing the stairs to your
place. Speaking of which, this is the twenty-first century, why does a twelve-floor
building not have an elevator?”

            “Why
are you on my stairs?” I ask, taking a sip of my coke and completely ignoring
what would likely end up another wild tangent.

            “I
can’t believe you forgot! It’s Halloween tonight. You promised we’d get costumes
and some decorations for the bar.”

            “Boss-man
approved this?” My eyebrows raised with surprise. The grump never approved our
holiday plans in the past.

            “Yep,
have it in writing and everything. Says with all the supernatural creatures
coming into our world and what-not we might as well try to pull in some profit
on the most monster-tastic night of the year…my paraphrase. I think his words
were something more like ‘sure, might as well make a profit playing on the
freak angle.’”

            “Charming.
What happened to outfit coordinating with your girlfriend?”

            “Ah,
about that, Trish somehow forgot to get her latest conquest out of our bed
before they fell asleep. So, I got the pleasure of kicking them both out of my
bed and apartment when I got home.”

            “Ouch,”
I wince with sympathy.

            “Pretty
much. Now I hope you are descent because I am outside your door. Little pig,
little pig, let me in.”

            I
glance down quickly at my oversized Garfield nightshirt and shrug. I’m calling
it good enough.

“Alright Big Bad
Wolf, I’m coming.”

I make my way to
the door, slides free the four bolts and unlocking it before swinging the door open.
Jinx leans in the doorway with a playful smile as he eyes me.

“Garfield this
morning? I thought Snoopy was your Monday nightie.”

“The cat barfed on
Snoopy yesterday, so the old dog had to go in for a wash rotation.”

Jinx slips in past
me and plops on my bed, taking up the remote and flicking on the tv.
Eleven-forty-five in the morning and Michael Meyer’s masked face takes up the
screen. Only on Halloween would I see such a sight. Jinx barely glances at me out
of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t take too
long, babe, and do try to get into the spirit!”

Grumbling under my
breath I pull out clean underwear, my favorite over-sized black tee-shirt printed
with a Halloween witch, and my orange leggings boasting its numerous black cats,
and take it all to the bathroom to get dressed.

“I hope you are
planning on buying me breakfast,” I yell through the shut door.

“If you can be out
of there in less than fifteen minutes we can stop at Dunkin’ Donuts,” he sings
out merrily.

My mouth waters at
the thought of a big and toasty breakfast sandwich. I make it out in under ten,
and am pulling on my ankle-high boots, bouncing slightly at one leg as I do so
as I exit the bathroom.

“Let’s go!”





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