I wracked my brain for any other information. I did know one other thing, and I couldn’t believe I’d
forgotten it even momentarily. If iron is bad for fairies, lemon juice is even worse. Claude and
Claudine’s sister had been murdered with lemon juice.
Now that I thought of them, I thought it might be helpful for me to talk to Claude and Claudine. Not
only were they my cousins, but Claudine was my fairy godmother, and she was supposed to help me.
She’d be at work at the department store where she handled complaints and wrapped packages and took
layaway payments. Claude would be at the male strip club he now owned and managed. He’d be easier
to reach. I went inside to look up the number. Claude actually answered the phone himself.
“Yes,” he said, managing to convey indifference, contempt, and boredom in the one word.
“Hi, sweetie!” I said brightly. “I need to talk to you face-to-face. Can I run over there, or are you busy?”
“No, don’t come here!” Claude sounded almost alarmed at the idea. “I’ll meet you at the mall.”
The twins lived in Monroe, which boasted a nice mall.
“Okay,” I said. “Where and when?”
There was a moment of silence. “Claudine can get off late for lunch. We’ll meet you in an hour and a
half in the food court, around Chick-fil-A.”
“See you there,” I said, and Claude hung up. Mr. Charm. I hustled into my favorite jeans and a green and
white T-shirt. I brushed my hair vigorously. It had gotten so long I found it a lot of trouble to deal with,
but I couldn’t bring myself to cut it.
Since I’d exchanged blood with Eric several times, not only had I not caught so much as a cold, but I
didn’t even have split ends. Plus, my hair was shinier and actually looked thicker.
I wasn’t surprised that people bought vampire blood on the black market. It did surprise me that people
were foolish enough to trust the sellers when they said that the red stuff was actually genuine vampire
blood. Often the vials contained TrueBlood, or pig’s blood, or even the Drainer’s own blood. If the
purchaser did get genuine vampire blood, it was aged and might easily drive the consumer mad. I would
never have gone to a Drainer to buy vampire blood. But now that I’d had it several times (and very
fresh), I didn’t even need to use makeup base. My skin was flawless. Thanks, Eric!
I don’t know why I bothered with being proud of myself, because no one was going to look at me twice
when I was with Claude. He’s close to six feet tall, with rippling black hair and brown eyes, the
physique of a stripper (six-pack abs and all), and the jaw and cheekbones of a Renaissance statue.
Unfortunately, he has the personality of a statue, too.
Today Claude was wearing khakis and a tight tank top under an open green silk shirt. He was playing
with a pair of dark glasses. Though Claude’s facial expressions when he wasn’t “on” ranged from blank
to sullen, today he actually seemed nervous. He scanned the food court area as if he suspected that
someone had followed me, and he didn’t relax when I dropped into a chair at his table. He had a Chickfil-
A cup in front of him, but he hadn’t gotten anything to eat, so I didn’t, either.
“Cousin,” he said, “are you well?” He didn’t even try to sound sincere, but at least he said the right
words. Claude had gotten marginally more polite when I’d discovered my great-grandfather was his
grandfather, but he’d never forget I was (mostly) human. Claude had as much contempt for humans as
most fairies did, but he was definitely fond of bedding humans—as long as they had beard stubble.
“Yes, thank you, Claude. It’s been a while.”
“Since we met? Yes.” And that was just fine with him. “How can I help you? Oh, here comes Claudine.”
He looked relieved.
Claudine was wearing a brown suit with big gold buttons and a brown, cream, and tan striped blouse.
She dressed very conservatively for work, and though the outfit was becoming, something about the cut
made her look somewhat less slim, I noticed. She was Claude’s twin; there had been another sister, their
triplet Claudette, but Claudette had been murdered. I guess if there are two remaining out of three, you
call the living two “twins”? Claudine was as tall as Claude, and as she bent to kiss him on the cheek,
their hair (exactly the same shade) mingled in a cascade of dark ripples. She kissed me, too. I wondered
if all the fae are as into physical contact as the fairies are. My cousin had a trayful of food: French fries,
chicken nuggets, some kind of dessert, a big sugary drink.
