Read Online Fangs for the Memories by Molly Harper - Free Book Online Page B

Wainwright was attending his own funeral as a spirit. I couldn’t see him or hear him, but Jane assured us he was there and was enjoying the proceedings immensely. He’d agreed to stay in town for the foreseeable future to build that relationship that Dick craved so badly. Also, he’d taken a liking to Jane’s deceased Aunt Jettie, who was haunting Jane’s house.
    There were stranger romances in Half-Moon Hollow, but I couldn’t come up with an example off the top of my head.
    The reading of Mr. Wainwright’s will had been full of surprises. I’d received a token from the old sweetheart: a silver claddagh ring that had belonged to his lost love. I’d only attended the reading to support Jane; I’d never dreamed that he would leave me a remembrance. Dick was none too pleased that said remembrance would burn and blister him upon contact, but I liked the idea of keeping him on his toes.
    We were keeping the new developments between the two of us . . . between the two of us. Jane would find out that we were edging toward coupledom soon enough. She had plenty on her mind, what with her grandmother being engaged to a ghoul and Mr. Wainwright leaving her the shop. The bequest had knocked her flat on her rear. She’d expected a rare book or two, but her former boss had changed his will and left her the whole shop.
    Jane was overwhelmed and grateful and had been agonizing over what to do with the place for days. The shop had just barely broken even the last few years, and Jane had no significant retail experience. But she also knew how difficult it was for vampires to find employment in the Hollow, particularly vampires with such book-specific skills. Jane also anticipated some resistance from Emery, the nephew languishing in South America under the impression that he was Mr. Wainwright’s sole heir. But ultimately, after a very stern heart-to-heart with him, she’d decided to keep the place open.
    I was happy for Jane, who was currently upstairs in Mr. Wainwright’s former apartment getting another pep talk from her ghostly mentor. With most of the dust and debris cleared, I could see the potential in the place. There weren’t any independent bookshops in the Hollow, so with the right product and personal touches (and by somehow convincing the customers that there was no adult bookshop next door), Jane could do very well.
    Meanwhile, I had my own employment issues to work out. At twilight, as I was leaving for the shop, I’d opened my front door to find Sophie standing on my stoop wearing jeans and a sweater. I’m not sure if it was the casual wear or the appearance of someone so closely associated with my recent violent trauma, but I recoiled at the sight of her. And wished desperately that Dick hadn’t decided to stay away for a few days to “give me some space.” Damn his considerate, but absent, ass.
    â€œSophie!” I cried, stumbling back into my apartment. “What are you doing here?”
    All of Sophie’s slick Euro-cool charm had disappeared as she glared across the threshold at me. What the hell? She couldn’t be pissed at me over the Darla incident. I hadn’t told a soul besides Dick. And I was hale and healthy thanks to my undead nurse, so it’s not like there’d be repercussions for her. So why was she giving me the face-melting death glare?
    From behind Sophie, a tall, slender brunette teenager stepped out of the darkness. She was wearing velvet hot pants, a peasant blouse, and a floppy straw hat. Because head Council official Ophelia Lambert believed that a jailbait-worthy outfit wasn’t an outfit unless it had a theme. I’d never actually seen Ophelia commit an act of violence. The rumor about her use of an enemy’s femur to club said enemy and then stake him out for sunrise was enough to secure her reputation among undead and living alike. She only had to look at a vampire sideways and they