Bastian Bell stood in the restroom at Middlin Public Library and asked himself, not for the first time, what on earth he was doing. Surely when he’d stepped down from his position as historian for his coven, this certainly couldn’t have been what he’d had in mind. He wrinkled his nose at the toilet he’d just finished plunging and gingerly flushed it. Immediately the water began to rise at an alarming rate, and hurriedly he replaced the plunger and started plunging again.

  In his desperation he shoved too hard, and the handle of the plunger tore through the rubber head of the plunger and skidded across the porcelain, throwing him forward. Cursing he righted himself, but not before he could escape the water that splashed up the side of the toilet and onto his Italian leather shoes. He let out a curse with a sigh.

  “Bastian? Is everything alrig—oh!”

  He turned to see Penny peering at him from the other side of the restroom door, a mixed look of horror and amusement dancing across her pretty face.

  “About as well as he looks.” He said somewhat resignedly. He gingerly leaned the handle against the wall, and leaving the toilet to whatever fate some plumber would deem it, stepped past the puddle to the doorway. Gingerly he began to unlace his shoes, trying not to touch where the soggy mess had landed.

  Penny slipped away for a brief moment before returning with a plastic shopping bag and some wipes. Gratefully he nodded and placed his shoes in the bag and carefully wiped his hands. He looked down at his feet and sighed.

  “At least you decided to wear matching socks today?” Penny said helpfully.

  “I always wear matching socks.” He grumbled, but he wasn’t angry, not really. “It’s just hardly appropriate for the director of the library to be walking around in his socks.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, eyeing his slacks and waistcoat, “people may simply think you’d decided to finally start dressing down.”

  “Your dress should reflect the respect you have for your position.” He said. “What kind of message does this send?”

  “That you are committed to your job, and that maybe next time you should have called a plumber.”

  He shook his head and walked toward the front of the library. “I had it under control.”

  “Yes well, now we need a plunger. I’ll call Bob and he’ll be over in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  “We don’t need Bob…” he started to protest, but she had already pulled out her phone and with a smile walked towards the children’s area.

  “Hello, Bob?” She started and then she was through the doors of her little office and he could only watch with rising irritation.

  Collapsing into his seat he caught another glimpse of his socks and groaned. She was right, they did need a plumber. He just didn’t want her to call Bob. More specifically it was who came along with Bob.

  “Bob said he’ll be over in five, and Collin is tagging along.” Penny said cheerfully, and Bastian sighed. Oblivious to his frustration, she held out a small tin. “Here, have a cookie.”

  He took it wordlessly, and took a miserable bite. It was delicious, but then, he knew it would be. Penny was the best baker in town, and the only reason she was working at the library instead of owning her own bakery was because she couldn’t stand the hours bakers usually kept. Plus, she’d say with a wink, she’d rather give them away anyways.

  Bastian suspected it was more than that. But he didn’t press the issue. Penny was the only other fulltime librarian on staff, and ran their very popular children’s programs. If it wasn’t for her, he was fairly sure attendance at the library would drop significantly, and he couldn’t have that.

  The bell to the library door tinkled pleasantly and he frowned when a tall dark haired man strode in. Collin. Now there was someone who he wouldn’t mind didn’t come quite so much. Bastian had once heard an old lady in a moment similar to this one describe Collin as hot and handy. A combination that apparently all women were to die for, and based on the doe-eyed expression women got around Collin, he assumed the old lady was likely right. As he returned Collin’s nod, he gritted his teeth, watching the man take Penny’s hand and made a big show of kissing it. Making Penny giggle, and making Bastian want to revoke his interlibrary loan privileges. Or drop him into a pit of ice pixies.

  The first would be uncalled for from a policy standpoint, and as satisfying as it might be, Collin couldn’t be allowed to remember a run-in with a couple hundred ice pixies. Bastian hadn’t erased a memory in easily fifty years, and even if he managed to remember how, it had been just as long since he’d had enough power to do more than light a candle. He’d chosen it, was happy, very happy, in fact he’d chosen it.

  But as he watched Penny’s face flush and her cheek dimple, he missed being able to drop someone through a vortex.

  Just a little bit.

  That’s not to say he blamed Collin. Penny was everything a man could want, kind, gentle, could bake like a dream and had a pleasing figure that wasn’t too slim. But it was Penny’s eyes that really could do a man in. It was happening now he knew, watching as Penny looked up at Collin and gave him a bright blue-eyed smile, and he thought he saw Collin’s brain short circuit just for the briefest moment.

  “Did Bob fall into a pothole on the way here?” He asked dryly before Collin recovered enough to find more ways to risk his interlibrary loans.

  Collin turned his friendly smile to Bastian. “He’s on his way. Marcia is ready to kill someone, and Bob had to make sure it wasn’t somebody they cared about.”

  “Oh don’t be so hard on Marcia.” Penny chided good-naturedly. “She’s about to have those babies any day now. It’s hard to be patient in regular circumstances but those twins are making her fit to be tied.”

  “My fear for Marcia is born from a healthy respect.” Collin said gravely. “Now how about you show me this toilet?”

  “You’re free to take a look, but the plunger broke when Bastian was trying to unplug it.”

  Collin grinned, “Guess we’ll have to get creative. If a plunger would have made it work I’m sure Bastian could have gotten it cleared.”

  Bastian didn’t like the condescending tone in the man’s voice. Bastian could have fixed the toilet under normal circumstances, but he was fairly certain Collin wouldn’t be prepared for the consequences. Not that Bastian at present would have minded watching Collin’s eyes bulge in surprise.

  But those were dangerous roads to think along, and so he just shrugged and smiled.

  “I guess we can’t all be good at everything.”

  “True enough!” Collin said, giving him a slap on the shoulder. “Afterall, we’re only human.”

  “For most of us I suppose.” Bastian said dryly, and Collin laughed.

  “Penny, does your boss hold you to the same standards he holds for himself?”

  Penny shook her head, “Collin are you here to fix the toilet or nettle Bastian?”

  “Too right, Penny! Show me the way.”

  The escort was entirely unnecessary, as Collin knew exactly where the toilet was, having lived his whole life in Middlin, but that didn’t stop Penny from taking him anyways. Bastian felt his eyes start to narrow as the two walked off, and he smoothed it back to his professional neutral.

  While he still wasn’t sure if he agreed that Collin Coswell was handsome and handy, he was certainly human. Which to Bastian was really the nail in the coffin for male perfection. Bastian could dress as well as he liked, keep to his neat diet and daily runs, learn how to plumb and house, but he’d never be human. Not really.

  He caught himself running his tongue over his teeth and tucking his tongue back in irritation, he turned back to the book return pile on his desk which had somehow managed to triple since Collin had entered the library.

  The rest of the day went by quickly, with Bob ducking in a half hour later and ducking into the bathroom with a quick apology. Collin hadn’t managed to do anything more than waste Penny’s time, and when Bob reported the plug was due to a full carton of chocolate milk being shoved down the toilet, Bastian tried to reserve his emotions to “vindicated” and not “smug”. He was mostly successful.

  “How do they even do that?” Penny asked him in exasperation as he helped her put away the puppet-stand she’d used for story hour. “Honestly, that should be even possible.”

  “Never underestimate the motivations of a bored teen.” Bastian said, as he set the puppet stand down in its corner. “Fortunately they didn’t break anything. I’ll call their parents tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure?” Penny asked, “I’m happy to make the call, I should have guessed when they took so long in there and if I’d caught it…”

  “I’ll call them. It’s not your fault they’re idiots. Plus calling parents is one of my favorite pastimes.”

  Penny laughed. It was a little thing, but it did something for him, loosened the tension in his shoulders, and he found himself smiling.

  “I won’t keep you from them then, though I call BS on it. I have to work on the fundraiser some tonight anyways, and it’ll be easier to do if I’m not worrying about the calls.”

  He took the box of crafts she handed him and placed them up on the shelf for her, frowning. “You’re going to count that as overtime, right?”

  She rolled her eyes at him and pushed past him farther into the closet to grab the paper towels and cleaner off their stand. He caught the familiar whiff of snickerdoodle cookies, and he felt his mouth water slightly. He focused on the eyeroll.

  “Penny…”

  “You don’t need to pay me overtime for something I enjoy doing.” She said good naturedly. “I coordinated things like this before I worked at the library.”

  “Which is exactly why I hired you.” Bastian interjected. “You should get paid for what you do.”

  “I’m not going to quibble over a couple hours.” She insisted, wagging the wad of paper towels at him. “The library is a service to the community Bastian, not a limitless source of funds.”

  “And you are an asset, Penny, and much more than a weekend volunteer.”

  “And I appreciate that, Bastian. You know I do. I love this job and everything about it, and the fundraisers are projects for me that I enjoy. You pay me for most of my work with them, and on the day of, believe you me you’ll get a full day’s timeslip and then some. But again, I won’t quibble.”

  She locked eyes with him, and they stood staring at each other, until finally Bastian, seeing the writing on the wall, relented. “Fine, fine. But if HR hears about this, you’ll be finding my dead body in an alley somewhere.”

  “Uncle Chris will do no such thing.” She said with a laugh.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” He said darkly, thinking about the city’s HR director’s wall of firearms that was only mostly decorative.

  He watched as Penny put a couple items just so in the toy area, and after giving the room an approving nod she signaled to him he could turn off the lights.

  As they worked their way to the front of the library, Bastian enjoyed the comfortable silence of the still building. It was one of the oldest buildings in the city, and Bastian felt a certain kinship with it, and he loved the books. It had had a nice collection when he’d started here five years ago, and since then it had expanded. His aim was for Middlin to have the best library in the county, if not the state eventually, and he and Penny were well on their way to doing it.

  She had joined him two years ago when the previous librarian retired, and hiring her was the singular best thing Bastian could have done. What Bastian could do for the book collection, Penny could do for community. It was quickly apparent from the one time Bastian subbed for story hour that he was better off curating the library selection. But with Penny story hour thrived, and multiplied. They now had three children’s programs, a regular bingo night for the seniors, and the DND club that met there on the weekends. The DND club was especially ridiculous to him, and it was one of the kids in the group who’d stuffed the milk carton in the toilet. But overall, he preferred it to them off doing drugs somewhere. So DND stayed, and he just tried not to listen too much.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Did you hear what Mrs. Blanchard said?”

  He blinked, realizing he’d missed the first part of her comment. “Beg pardon?”

  “Mrs. Blanchard? What she was saying about what Carole said she saw at the park?”

  He frowned shaking his head, “I don’t believe so.”

  “Carole swears she saw something, looked like a ghost. Tall, slim, glowing red eyes.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Was this before or after her evening wine?”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “It’s a relevant question!” He insisted as he helped her into her jacket.

  “Well, before or after, it gave her a real fright. When the boys come in for DND on Friday will you get a feel for if someone might know something?”

  He nodded. “Did Carole say anything else about it?”

  She shook her head. “Just that it really gave her the heebie-jeebies…took her a while to calm down.”

  “Guess it’s good you don’t walk past the park.”

  “But you do.” She said, eyes twinkling slightly. “Should I stick around to walk you home?”

  “I think I’ll manage.” He said with a wry grin, though the idea of walking through the park with Penny almost had him saying yes. “Goodnight, Penny.”

  “Night, Bastian. See you tomorrow.”

  He watched her until she was safely down the block, her blond hair and light blue jacket mixing pleasantly with the colors of Middlin in the evening. The paving stones and redbrick buildings with their towering shade trees had Bastian standing a moment or two longer than usual as he enjoyed the quiet peace of his small town before he turned back and locked the door.

  The carpet squished unusually under his feet and he realized he was still in his socks. He let out a deep sigh, and decided made a mental note to start keeping back up shoes at the library along with the change of clothes he already stored in his office.

  He idly flicked a finger at the light switch across the hall and the lights went dim, leaving him in the soothing half-glow of the evening light through the big arched windows at the head of the library. It had been a cathedral, a small one granted, but had been one none the less, and when the town decided to build a new one, they’d sold the old building to the city. The library had needed to be updated at the same time, and so it had been repurposed. The ceiling rose into arches and the original artwork had been carefully restored, and Bastian was left feeling incredibly lucky that this was where he got to work day in and day out.

  He settled into his office just behind the main desk, and almost cheerfully pulled up the numbers for the cartons of the milk carton incident. Only one of the parents gave him any real pushback, something he greatly appreciated about Middiln. By the end of his calls the story had been fully fleshed out, confessions and apologies given, and a promise that all three boys would be available to assist Penny in whatever way needed for her fundraiser. One dad even promising a month of weekends if necessary, much to his son’s dismay. Bastian assured them both that the fundraiser itself was plenty, and wished them a good night.

  The sun had set by this point, and Bastian reached down for his shoes. Penny had placed them in a plastic bag for him, and when he opened it his nose twitched. They smelled faintly of toilet, and Bastian set them gingerly on his desk. He gave an irritated flick of his fingers and the shoes brightened, smelling most distinctly of shoe polish and not urine.

  He generally liked to polish his shoes without magic, and the unfamiliar use left him feeling just a little drained. The shoes had absorbed more water than he had anticipated. The whole thing left him feeling somewhat irritated, and he almost ripped his laces in his efforts to stuff his feet into his shoes. Taking a deep breath, he carefully tied his laces, pulled on the jacket he wore more for appearances than out of necessity, then after a snap of his fingers to turn off the lights, locked the door and strolled out into the brisk evening air.

  He was still irritated. But the evening was calming, and it hadn’t been a bad day really. If he ignored the shoes, Collin and the spell taking more out of him than he liked, it had been a perfectly fine, normal day.

  Collin, handsome, handy, human, Collin. His footsteps wrang out aggressively down the cobblestones, and he had to consciously soften them. And why shouldn’t Penny date Collin? He wasn’t sure why she wasn’t. Collin was successful, healthy, well respected in the community, good and generous to the people around him. That is, if you could ignore how obnoxious the man was.

  He could just ask Penny out himself. Why wait until Collin made the first move and won? Penny clearly didn’t hate having Bastian around. She laughed at his jokes, and they worked well together. It was a place to start, wasn’t it? It would last just as long as took for him to not slip up and lift something just a little too heavy, or smell something a little too close, or her to realize he never caught a cold or the stomach flu. That he took a very long time to age. That he wasn’t exactly human.

  Human.

  The irritation from before drained out of him, and a sense of resignation seemed to fall on him as he left the small city center and entered the boundaries of the public park. The leaves of the trees rustled in the slight breeze, the moon’s light casting their dancing shadows across his path. He looked up at the moon, a strong sense of loneliness filling him. Had it been worth it? Was this really better?

  The moon didn’t have an answer for him, and he wasn’t sure he’d want to hear it even if he could. He closed his eyes, feeling its cool light brush his face. He missed the night sometimes. Not like he’d missed the sunlight though. He had both now, and it the cost to go back to just the one would be too high. Would come at too high a cost. He smiled sadly into the light. Yes this would be enough.

  Some sixth sense inside him shrieked out a warning as a familiar whisper of movement slid behind him. Too late he turned towards the noise, knowing even as he struck out to defend himself that any advantages he had now would be little to no use.

  Something, a vampire if he had to guess, slammed into him, driving him forward into a large oak tree with enough force to break the ribs of a regular man. As it was, it left him gasping like a gutted fish.

  “Sorry, bud.” Said a voice from behind him. “This will be quick.”

  Bastian opened his mouth to protest but all that he managed was a strangled wheeze, his hands pinned between his body and the trunk of the tree.

  Fingers grabbed awkwardly at his head, jerking him from side to side.

  “What side is the carotid on?” His attacker mumbled, and Bastian blinked.

  “What did you ask?”

  There was a surprised silence and the grip on his head disappeared.

  “Nothing.”

  Bastian turned his head back slightly, catching a quick glimpse of a tall, stocky figure with neatly cropped hair.

  “You’re what, two days old? Three?”

  The man looked at him in surprise, and he fumbled as he responded. “What, no, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

  With a groan Bastian let his head fall forward into the tree with a slight thud. This was probably more poetic than he deserved. “Can’t you smell the arteries?”

  Another awkward pause.

  “You can smell arteries?”

  Bastian took a deep, calming breath, willing every ounce a patience into his voice. “Don’t you have a sire whose supposed to teach you these things?”

  “How do you know—”

  “Look,” Bastian said, placatingly as he felt the man’s weight shift against him, “this obviously isn’t meant to be. How about we meet here again in let’s say a week? When you’ve had time to practice, consult an anatomy book—”

  “Dude, the carotid is on both sides?”

  Bastain blinked, “Are you on your cell phone right now?”

  “Well, I mean you said consult a book...”

  Kill me now. Vampires using cell phones. To look up the arteries they could just smell. Definitely a nestling.

  “Of all the lazy…I said you could smell, you didn’t think to try that?”

  “Well that’s a little weird…”

  Bastian blinked. “Weren’t you just about to suck my blood?”

  “Yeah, I mean I guess that’s true.”

  “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”

  “Yeah, I mean I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

  Bastian wriggled the fingers of his right hand experimentally. “Well there’s no time like the present. I promise I won’t think it’s weird if you take this time to practice. It’ll be better for the next guy if you kill him outright, this conversation is incredibly unsettling.”

  He tilted his head to the side helpfully, using the movement to pull his hand up a little higher.

  “Are you sure?” The vampire’s hopeful tone made him almost feel bad for the nestling.

  “It’s the least I can do.” Bastian said with a shrug. “Your instincts should kick in, but you’ve probably already figured out if you bite to hard it’ll make a mess, so just take your time. No need to hurry.”

  “Is there a way to make it hurt less?”

  Bastian frowned, “I mean, you’re about to gouge me with your fangs, pain is kind of unavoidable.”

  “Well I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “If we were worried about my comfort, we’d have shaken hands and I’d be on my way home.”

  “Can’t do that, sorry.”

  “I figured. You probably haven’t figured out how to memory wipe yet?”

  “Yeah, Dax says I need more practice before he’ll trust me to let someone walk around after a feeding.”

  Dax. Not a name Bastian was familiar with, but he hadn’t exactly been keeping up on the local covens since he’d moved to Middlin. With his arm pinned the way it was he couldn’t quite get the angle he needed, and the longer they stayed there the higher the chance someone else would come walking along.

  “Would you mind getting on with it? I can’t really say I care for the anticipation.”

  “Yes, right.”

  The vampire grabbed Bastian’s hair and tugged him to the side, and started leaning in. It was the wrong side.

  “Wait!” Bastian said quickly.

  The vampire hesitated, “What?” He sounded a little irritated.

  “Can you do the other side?”

  “Why?” The nestling sounded irritated.

  “Less sensitive.”

  “Ah, okay. Sure.” He tilted Bastian’s head the other way, and for a moment Bastian thought he was going to say something else, but then he leaned forward and Bastian felt his breath blow a slight chill across his neck. With a snap of his fingers Bastian sent a spray of light over his shoulders and straight into the nestling’s eyes.

  With a howl the vampire jerked back covering his eyes, and Bastian was free. With a lurch he pushed himself into a run, charging down the path. He heard the sound of cursing from behind him, but he didn’t look back, eyes on the small group of houses on the other side of the park, the twinkle of his porch a beacon of safe harbor.

  An inhuman snarl filled the air, and wind surged through the park, sending leaves and branches dancing across the ground.

  He kicked his heels, driving himself forward at even higher speeds, but even as the steps of his porch came into view he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Iron hands grabbed him and spun him around, giving him a view of ice blue eyes, their red pupils staring into him in mindless rage.

  Bastian pushed forward, raising his hand with another stream of light, but it was weaker than the last and the vampire was too mad to care. It jerked him forward and sunk its teeth into his neck.

  It hurt, hurt more that Bastien remembered it hurting. The sound of the vampire swallowing echoed uncomfortably by his ear, and he wasn’t sure if it was that or the blood-loss that was making him nauseous. He wondered how long it would take for him to die. He healed pretty quickly, that meant he probably replaced blood at a higher rate. It likely wouldn’t be enough to save his life, but if he was lucky, it might mean that it would be enough to cool the bloodlust he’d been fool enough to trigger.

  He should have considered that. An experienced vampire would have had control of himself, but a nestling…he’d have shaken his head in disappointment if it wasn’t held in the vampire’s grip. He’d never get to ask Penny out. That was for the best anyways he supposed, but the idea still hurt a little bit. She’d be sad when she found out what happened. He hoped she’d apply for his position, hoped the board would be smart enough to give it to her. Hoped that they would find a sponsor for the fundraiser.

  His thoughts went a little hazy for a moment. His body started to shake, and he wondered if this was it giving out, convulsing in its last moments. But then his thoughts began to clear, and he realized he was shaking because the vampire was shaking.

  No longer attached to his neck, the vampire’s body spasmed around him and they fell to the ground as vampire lost control of his limbs. Bastian forced himself away, waiting for the vampire to follow him, but he needn’t have worried. As he looked back, the vampire lay twitching on the ground, blood smeared around his mouth, eyes starting blankly into the sky.

  Was it dead? Dying?

  Its lips parted, showing long red fangs, still fully extended and slightly pink with his blood. But even as he watched, they pulled back. But they weren’t retracting. They were shrinking. The jaw adjusting to accommodate their smaller size. The vampire’s classic good looks dimmed slightly, skin less luminous, hair less brilliant. If he was dying, it was the strangest vampire death throe Bastian had ever seen.

  He watched in fascination, only absentmindedly placing his hand against his neck. His touch stung, but the puncture wounds hadn’t ripped too badly. He knew that in a couple days, it wouldn’t even be obvious he’d been attacked. Unless someone found the body of the vampire with his blood smeared all over its face and his DNA all over the place.

  The vampire had stopped twitching now, and seemed to lay still, its eyes now closed. No one had come across them in the five minutes it had taken for their brief interaction, and he needed to move quickly to make sure that continued that way.

  He tried to get to his feet, but the rush of nausea that accompanied the movement quickly had him back on the ground with his head between his knees. He’d never lost this much blood before in his present state, and he wondered if it was healthy to see quite so many black dots bouncing around in front of him.

  It was some time later when he woke up, disoriented and head aching. It was truly late in the evening, and an early autumn chill had set in. He looked over and found the vampire still lay where he had fallen.

  Not dead then. Probably.

  It was inconvenient that the nestling hasn’t poofed into a pile of ashes, but he supposed he could do that himself. With movements that were embarrassingly stiff, Bastian half crawled, half dragged himself over to the body.

  The nestling was young now, he could see. Probably hadn’t been more than eighteen or so when he’d been changed, and that had likely only been a few days. It made him a little sad – it was hard when anybody lost their lives to the fantastic, but to Bastian young changes were especially tragic. It made for a harder transition, dumber choices, and more regrets later on.

  The face of a raven-haired young woman came to mind and he grimaced. Lots of regrets.

  He grabbed the young man’s hand to start dragging him away and promptly dropped it like a hot potato before gingerly picking it back up between his thumb and forefinger. It was warm. With a frown he grabbed the other, and eyes narrowing put his hand on the man’s forehead. All warm.

  Aware that his hand was trembling slightly, Bastian placed his fingers at the pulse on the boy’s throat and couldn’t believe it when he felt the quick steady pulse of a heartbeat. A very human heartbeat. Stunned, he stared at the nestling in surprise for a long moment, before rushing to stick his nose against the pulse point and taking a deep breath.

  He could still pick up the slight scent of vampire on the shirt collar and hair, but a faint, heady scent was starting to rise up in the air, making Bastian’s mouth water just slightly. Jerking back he looked at the young man in shock, mind reeling.

  He lifted the man’s lip, and the teeth were normal people teeth. Bastian could still smell blood on the nestling’s breath and his lip curled in faint disgust. Grabbing the man’s arm he pivoted, pulling the man’s body on his back. Gingerly he stood, relieved to find that the man wasn’t so heavy he couldn’t comfortably lift him.

  He took a step and almost lost his balance, nearly dropping the former nestling in the process. Gritting his teeth, he settled the nestling into a more secure position on his back, then started to make his way to his house. He was going to have to make a phone call.