Page 58 of Starved Until Sunset

“Yeah, me, too,” Oliver said, before turning back to his own shelves.

“I think we’re all living that show,” Demetrius said.

Quiet chuckles from within the shelves, and Demetrius checked his phone again. Nope, he hadn’t missed a text while he’d been sitting right there next to it. He put the phone down and went back to the book, but his mind was too busy reliving the pain of Cody’s words.

And Demetrius felt guilty and more than a little ashamed, because deep down, he knew what Cody had said was true. He did have a bit of a savior complex, though he liked to think of it as being a good and caring person. And he did find the paranormal situations interesting. Okay, maybe interesting was too small of a word. They were exciting to him.

It was like they were living through their very own black and white monster movie, the kind he had always enjoyed watching when he was a kid. He’d known the heroes would win out in the end, and he liked to think of himself, Cody, and their group of friends as the heroes. The only difference was the real monsters bit back. Hard.

He and Cody had argued about this topic many, many times over the years. And even with all they’d been through, all the injuries and personal losses, Demetrius hoped they could continue to argue about it for many, many more years to come. He didn’t want to lose Cody because of monster cases. But he also couldn’t turn a blind eye to something threatening the people and town he cared about. He just needed to keep things in perspective. Demetrius was aware he had a tendency to try and manipulate Cody into getting involved in their more unusual cases, and, savior complex or not—that phrase really hurt for some reason—that kind of behavior wasn’t right either. Because every time they’d gotten involved in an unusual case, there had been some kind of cost.

He absently rubbed a hand across the scar at the base of his neck, a reminder of Nicolae turning him into a werewolf that terrible night so long ago. Realizing he still wore one of the protective gloves and had now touched his skin, Demetrius sighed and stood up.

“You’ve been sighing a lot today.” Oliver had, of course, chosen that moment to carry a number of books to the table.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that, too.” Clarabell returned as well and dropped several books onto the table with a heavy thump. “What gives?”

“I don’t know,” Demetrius said, hearing the snappish quality to his tone as he pulled off the gloves and dropped them into a bin by the door. “Maybe one of our good friends has been kidnapped by a vampire, and we only have six hours until the sun goes down and who knows how many of them are unleashed on the streets of town.” He picked up another pair of gloves from the basket on a small table by the door. “Oh, and our town is full of tourists who are here to celebrate our weird and tragic history of paranormal happenings.” Demetrius pulled on the fresh pair of white cotton gloves, then held up his hands. “And now I look like I’ve been hired to do magic at a kid’s birthday party.”

Oliver and Clarabell both laughed. Then Oliver gave him a long look.

“What?” Demetrius said, returning to his chair. “What’s that look for?”

“You and Cody had a fight,” Oliver said.

“What? No.”

“They did?” Clarabell squinted as she peered at him across the table. “How can you tell?”

“He’s twitchy and agitated.” Oliver pulled out the chair beside Demetrius. “More than usual.”

“Ouch.”

“That means something has happened between him and Cody. Or something has happened to Cody. But if that were the case, he would have told us about it already, and we’d all be outside looking for Cody instead of in here doing research to try and understand vampires better.”

“Is that true?” Clarabell threaded her gloved fingers together and rested her hands on top of a book. “Did you and Cody have a fight?”

“A little bit,” Demetrius said. He sat back and groaned, pressing his gloved fingers to his eyes. “Yes.”

“Which is why you’re here with us right now instead of at work,” Oliver said.

Demetrius straightened up and gave him a tight smile. “What are you, an investigative reporter?”

Oliver grinned back. “That’s your husband talking.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Want to talk about it?” Clarabell asked.

“Not right now, thanks. I’d rather focus on learning something to help us find Zenona.”

“Okay,” Oliver said. “Let us know if you change your mind.” He looked across the table at Clarabell. “You mentioned staying behind to talk with Dr. Graham last night, but you haven’t really told us what you learned.”

“Oh, I didn’t? Guess I was too excited about getting back into this room.” She shoved the books aside, pulled off her gloves, and pressed her palms flat against the table. “Dr. Graham and Aldrik were turned in Northern England within a couple of months of each other, about four hundred years ago.”

“Four hundred?” Oliver said.

“Years, yes,” Clarabell said. “They were turned by a much older vampire who goes by the name Xavier.”