I hold up a stack of reeking, cloudy Tupperware. “Keep or toss?”

  “Keep,” Grampire grunts. She’s lounging in her arm chair, red eyes half closed against the late afternoon light.

  “Grampire, no! It’s filthy! Please let me throw these away.”

  “Ain’t nothing wrong with them bowls.” Grampire narrows her eyes at me. “Kids always want to throw away good shit and then buy the same thing newer, cheaper, and worse. Well, not me. I worked hard for this, and I’m keeping it.”

  I hold in a scream. She’s been like this all afternoon. It’s been a few days since our training session and I’ve been busy keeping up with it, running in the mornings while Grampire snoozes, then practicing reaction time at night. I’ve gotten pretty good at dodging the raccoon’s claws when I approach the trashcan. But though I’ve been busy, I can’t let this house keep festering. I lie awake at night, staring at the pile of bones by the musty, sagging couch with dread in my gut. I need to clean this house and turn it into a hotel or I’ll never find a sorcerer to cure me.

  However, Grampire doesn’t share my sentiment. She doesn’t care what I do to the yard, but the inside is a different story. Every piece of old plastic, melted candy, rotten wood has a story or an excuse why she needs it. She’s guarding her junk like an old-school dragon. I knew Grampire was messy, but I had no idea she was an honest to goddess hoarder.

  I take a breath. Me freaking out isn’t going to help me clean up faster. I put the Tupperware down and move onto a box of kitchen utensils. But on closer inspection, it’s not a variety—they’re all solid wooden spoons covered in a thick layer of dust. “Let’s come back to those. What about this, umm, spoon collection?”

  “No,” Grampire growls. She taps her pointer finger on the arm of the chair. Her dark, tapered nails seem longer today. “Need them in case I have to stake some bitches.”

  What?! They’re just regular soup spoons, some spotted with age and soft with years of being stored in a damp place. The ends aren’t even sharp! “Do you plan on doing that any time soon?”

  “You can never be too prepared. You have to show your enemies you’re ready for them.”

  “What enemies? No one ever comes here.”

  “Yeah and they’ll keep it that way if they know what’s good for them.”

  A headache springs up behind my eyes. I need to lie down, maybe scream into a pillow. But I can’t give up yet. We’ve been working for hours, and the only thing I convinced her to discard was a McDonald’s bag with a disturbingly still intact chicken sandwich inside. “Okay. One more time. The Tupperware.”

  “Are you deaf or stupid? I told you no.” Grampire curls her lip in a half-snarl, exposing her gold fang. Is it…longer?

  “No, Grampire, I’m just saying you don’t need them. They’re dirty—”

  “But still usable—”

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  “A lot is still usable! But will you actually use them?”

  Grampire shakes her head slowly. Her mouth opens wider, exposing both fangs. My body shivers with undefinable fear. She’s irritated, but we’re just discussing throwing some trash out. She won’t attack me…right?

  “I’m tired of this. You need to go on somewhere and leave me be.”

  “Please,” I whine. “Just let me get rid of one thing.”

  Grampire stands, her fingernails digging into the fabric of the armchair. Stuffing pops out of the new tears as Grampire turns her intense red eyes to me. They glow, brighter than I’ve seen before, in the gloom of the darkening house. If I was a wolf, I would be cowering, ears back, tail between my legs. “Enough, Malia.”

  I take a few steps back, fear and adrenaline coursing through my body. But frustration too, because I want to get something accomplished, but she’s stopping me at every turn. And now she’s being unusually mean and scary for no reason. I only wanted to help.

  I fold my arms and look to my feet. I know better than to look someone stronger than me in the eye. Grampire or not, I do have some self-preservation instincts. “Okay, fine. I just don’t know why you need Tupperware. You don’t have electricity or a working fridge. And you don’t even eat food!”

  Grampire stills, the intense glow from her eyes interrupted by fast blinks. She closes her mouth and her posture relaxes. Some of the danger signals weaken. “You’re right.”

  I blink too, still a little frightened of the change. “I am?”

  “Broken clock’s right twice a day.” Grampire sinks back into her armchair and roots around the trash at her feet until she finds her fuzzy blue socks. She puts them on, and then shoves her feet into her old red crocs. “I’m going out.”

  “Now?”

  “Right now.”

  I take in Grampire’s stained nightdress, socks, and crocs. One of them is still broken from our fight with the Wizard. “Like that?”

  Grampire gives me a withering glare that makes me want to run and hide behind her hoard. “Watch it, pup.”

  “Sorry, I just—where are you going?” I perk up as my brain stops being drowned by fear and works properly again. If she’s going to town, I could get supplies! Well, I don’t have any money, but maybe a store has thrown away some still-good food? I’m desperate for something other than raw rabbit and beef jerky. “Can I come?”

  “No.”

  My face falls and Grampire rolls her eyes at me.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not something for kids to see.”

  I frown. Where is she going? A vampire night club? Oh, maybe a secret society meeting? I’m dying to ask, but it’s not polite to bother your elders over their personal business. And she’s in a real bad mood today so I don’t want to push it. “Can you bring me something back?”

  “Like what?”

  “Burger King! Not McDonald’s, I got sick one time over an undercooked chicken nugget. Can you get a plain Whopper with added cheese, and ketchup on the side and a large fry? No drink.”

  Grampire utters the longest sigh I’ve ever heard, but she dutifully reaches into her hoard and withdraws an ancient, falling-apart leather wallet. She flaps it at me as I brighten. “If you’re good and don’t destroy my house while I’m gone, I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay!” I beam at Grampire as she rolls her eyes again. I walk her to the door and stand on the front porch as she plods away. “Be safe!”

  Grampire lifts her hand in a wave, but pauses when she’s at the end of what should be a driveway. “What’s today?”

  “Thursday,” I call. Her voice is faint, even to my enhanced ears.

  Grampire mutters something under her breath, but I don’t catch it.

  “What?”

  “Don’t talk to strangers,” she yells back.

  “I thought you said no one will come here?”

  “You know what I mean,” she bellows. “Don’t destroy my house.”

  I wave, a little bemused. I watch her walk away, toward town. Goddess, please let her bring me back a cheeseburger and fries.

  When she disappears from view, I turn back to the house. The old building looms ominously above me in the moonlight, but for once I’m not freaked out. Now that Grampire’s gone, I can finally get some real cleaning done. I don’t know when she’s returning, so I’ll have to hurry, but hopefully she’ll be excited and not murderous when she sees her newly clean house.

  I step inside, grinning, and hope she won’t kill me when she gets back.