Page 4 of Vampires and Violas (A Vampire’s Guide to Gardening #2)

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“Can I ask you something?” I say to Noah from my barstool in the kitchen, eating the piece of cinnamon toast he just made me, realizing I’ve never seen him eat one himself.

How didn’t I notice he was on a carnivore diet?

Noah places pork chops in a cast iron skillet, and the sizzling sound fills the kitchen. The smell of frying pig makes my predator heart sing. I’m afraid my vegetarian days might be coming to an end.

“Another question?” Noah sounds like he’s smiling, but I can’t tell because his back is facing me.

I roll my eyes and take another bite of toast, chasing it down with a sip of smoothie. “Vampires have to be bitten three times to enter the final stage, right? Like a series of vaccinations?”

“Rarely only twice, but usually three times, yes.” He sprinkles seasoning on the pork.

“Say someone is bitten by vampires from three different lines. Whose family do they belong to?”

“Most people don’t run into that many vampires.”

“Okay, yes. But what about you or Emma? You two were attacked while working. Surely not all the aggressive vampires are from Cassian’s line?”

“Each bite trumps the last. Right now, you belong to Cassian’s line because Ethan descended from him. But say you were bitten again by a vampire from the Giordano line. You would then belong to them, though you’d still bear a faint Chevalier mark.”

“And then if I was bitten again by someone in Cassian’s line?”

“You’d revert to him, and there you would stay. You’re not really considered part of a family line until you’re final-stage anyway.”

“What if a final-stage vampire bites another final-stage vampire? Can their line change then?”

He glances at me over his shoulder, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “We’re back to that again, are we?”

“Just answer the question.”

“No. Only bites that spread the infection decide your line.”

I polish off the piece of toast and move on to the next. “Can vampires date if they’re from the same line? Or is that like a family tree with no branches?”

He snorts. “It’s not the same at all, and yes, they can date. Most married vampires are from the same line, usually because one starts as a human and becomes a vampire while they’re dating.”

“But that’s illegal.”

“It is.” Noah shrugs. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”

“How much trouble would they get in if they were caught?”

“If they’re both consenting adults, it’s usually a hefty fine, occasionally a few years of jail time if the judge is feeling extra feisty, and then they can get on with their lives.”

“Like a speeding ticket? Everyone knows they shouldn’t speed, but everyone does it anyway?”

“Not everyone, and it’s far more severe than a speeding ticket. But yes, in a way.”

“So, if you had accidentally bitten me, you probably wouldn’t have gone to prison?”

Noah doesn’t respond, but he goes still. Then he rolls his shoulders and flips the pork chops. “No, but you’d be one step closer to the final stage, and I wouldn’t do that to you.”

This conversation has veered into forbidden territory. It's not necessarily dangerous, but it is sad. The memory of getting close to Noah only to discover we can’t be close is still painful.

I pulled away, knowing he was leaving for Denver anyway. But now he’s back, complicating things, and I’m beginning to wonder if I overreacted.

So, he’s a vampire. Is that really a big deal?

Listen to yourself, Piper.

Okay, it’s a big deal.

I need to find a guy who doesn’t have fangs but isn’t freaked out about my blood needs. A guy who can eat a salad and won’t look like a gladiator when he’s seventy-eight.

Eventually.

Right now, I must focus on my flowers, because this is already shaping up to be my worst year since I began my business when I was twenty-four. Missing an entire month at the beginning of the growing season thanks to Vampiria B-related illness took its toll on my checking account.

The doorbell rings, and I hop off the barstool. “That’ll be Cassian.”

“What’s he doing here?” Noah sounds particularly annoyed, making me wonder if he’s taken his blood this morning.

“He’s my conservator,” I remind him.

“Ethan’s gone. You don’t need someone hanging around constantly anymore.”

“Max has the day off. They’re meeting here and then going hiking.”

Noah flashes me an incredulous look.

“Look, I know it’s weird. I blame you, though. You’re the one who recruited Max.”

My brother is officially working for NIHA now, and I don’t like it. He’s almost finished with his training and gets assigned a pre-vamp on Monday.

I’m hoping he likes the job and stays with the pre-vamps because I’m not super comfortable with him interacting with rogue final-stage vampires.

“Is Cassian around a lot?” Noah turns back to his skillet, his tone slightly too casual.

“We’re not dating, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Right…” he draws out the word. “Because final stage vampires are ‘gross.’”

Apparently, he’s slightly bitter about the opinions I shared before I knew he was a vampire. And I meant them at the time. Now…

Well, now my brain is at odds with itself. Vampires are bad, right? They’re unstable, blood-thirsty monsters. But Noah isn’t like Ethan. And neither is Cassian, for that matter.

I open the front door for my conservator, taking in his outfit and smiling. “I see you went shopping.”

He’s in gray pants, a tan T-shirt, and hiking boots, and he has a hydration pack slung over his shoulder. He looks like he stepped out of the pages of a hiking enthusiast magazine.

“And I see you and Noah made up.” He gives Noah’s silver SUV a pointed look, raising his brows.

“It’s not what you’re insinuating. Noah’s moving back to town, and he needs a place to stay while he’s selling his house in Denver. He’s renting a room from me again.”

“If you say so,” he says dismissively. “Do you want to see something cool?”

I eye him as he fusses with his pants. “This feels like a man in a trench coat situation.”

Snorting, he pulls up a small strip of fabric that circles his left knee, revealing a zipper. He then unzips the calf portion of his pants. Proud of himself even though the removed fabric now bunches around the ankle of his boot and looks quite ridiculous, he says, “They were pants…and now they are shorts.”

“A modern marvel,” I agree with a laugh, deciding I won’t tell him Max has owned half a dozen pairs of hiking pants that do the same thing over the years. No reason to burst his bubble.

“I think I might be entering my outdoorsy era,” Cassian muses.

“I thought you were entering your hipster era?”

“That was so 2016.”

If I’ve learned anything over the last month, it’s that the vampire is eccentric. But that doesn’t take away from his charm.

I step out of the doorway. “Come on in.”

“I smell pork,” Cassian says. “Noah’s cooking?”

“He ran to his family’s grocery store this morning. He took one look at the contents of my fridge and fled.”

Cassian chuckles as we step into the kitchen. “Good morning, Noah. It appears you stayed the night.”

Noah spares my conservator a look. “Good morning, Cassian. It appears you robbed a sporting goods store.”

Cassian sets his hydration pack on the island. “Max and I are going hiking. Care to join us?”

“Some of us have to work.”

“Shame.” He opens the pack and pulls out the hydration bladder. “I’ve washed this twice, and it still tastes like plastic. Is there a way to fix that?”

“Why are you asking me?” I frown at the water reservoir. “Do I look like a hiker?”

He studies me like the question wasn’t rhetorical. “You don’t really, no.”

“That’s just the way those packs taste,” Noah says. “You can fill it with some vinegar, let it sit for a few hours, and then rinse it out. That helps.”

“I’m not sure I want to risk my water tasting like plastic-steeped vinegar.”

Noah shoots him an annoyed look. “Then buy a regular water bottle and shut up about it.”

Cassian turns to me. “Has he had his blood yet?”

“I don’t think so.”

Noah flips the pork chops, ignoring us.

“What are your plans for today?” Cassian asks me.

“I also have to work. I have half a dozen subscription bouquets to deliver and a few drops to make at local stores.”

Cassian nods, eyeing my toast like he can’t decide if he’s intrigued or disgusted.

I take another bite. “Marilyn said NIHA scientists are working on a medicine to help vampires process plant-based foods. Is that true?”

“They have one that’s looking promising.”

Noah glances back at us. “The problem is, it interferes with one of the commonly prescribed anxiety drugs.”

“That seems like a pretty serious downside,” I say.

Cassian makes a noise of agreement as he unscrews his pack’s lid. He gives the water bladder a sniff and then scowls.

Finished with my toast, I head for the living room. “I’m leaving to make deliveries. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye, Piper,” Cassian says cheerily. “Have fun.”

“Try not to kill each other while I’m gone,” I call back.

Noah says something I don’t quite hear. But it sounds a lot like, “ No promises. ”

I stop in the cellar to gather the arrangements I put together early this morning and then head out to the truck. It’s already blazing hot, though the temperature says it hasn’t hit eighty yet. Maybe it’s affecting me because my body temperature is so low. The chilly spring didn’t feel too bad, but I’m not acclimating to the heat as well this summer. At least I live in the mountains.

Before I leave, I check the mailbox at the end of my drive to make sure the mail carrier didn’t stop early today.

Last week, Marissa from next door came by to let me know she’s seen someone loitering around the box. And, of course, I’m expecting a check from Tea Rose Floral. It’s at least a week late, and I’m getting nervous.

But the box is empty.

With a sigh, I close it and head to my truck.

The morning goes slowly. Because it’s hot, I have the subscription bouquets resting on the passenger seat of my truck, staying cool in the AC.

Unfortunately, the deliveries take longer than usual because customers want to chat. Normally, I don’t mind, but I have a lot to get through today.

It’s just after noon, and I’m finally on my last morning stop.

I follow my GPS to my newest subscriber’s house. He signed up last Friday for weekly bouquets, and he picked the largest option. Three hundred a month seems a little crazy for flowers, but I’m not going to tell him that.

The house is easy to find since it’s in Marilyn’s subdivision, only one street down from her place. His home is stucco and faux rock, with dark wood accents. The lawn looks like it was mowed this morning, and a large, pink plastic basket on the porch holds balls and an assortment of other outdoor toys.

I ring the doorbell, expecting to find the man’s wife. It’ll be a nice surprise for her if she doesn’t know I’m coming.

But a man answers the door—and not the kind of man you’d expect to order flowers.

Questioning that I’m at the correct address, I say, “Are you Sam Porter?”

“Yes, I’m Sam.” The man’s eyes move to the flowers. “And you must be Piper?”

He’s muscular like a street fighter, with a dark goatee, tattoos fully encasing both of his arms, and a boy-next-door smile. If I were to guess, I’d say he’s in his early thirties, maybe a little older.

“That’s right.” I offer him the bouquet.

The arrangement is bright and happy, with hot pink dahlias and bold orange roses. It’s one of my favorites I’ve made this summer.

Sam admires them like he’s pleased. “These are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like them.” I’m already edging away, eager to return to the house so I can scarf down some lunch and begin my retail deliveries. “You’ve already paid, so you’re all set. I hope you enjoy the arrangement.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Piper.”

“You too, Sam. See you next week.”

My stomach growls as I start the truck and pull away from the house. While trying to ignore my hunger, my mind wanders to Noah—as it likes to do.

We can be friends. Just because he’s living with me, and I’ll probably (hopefully) see him shirtless from time to time, doesn’t mean I’m going to end up as his vampire bride.

We’re adults, with adult-appropriate willpower. It’s going to be fine.

Besides, it’s only a temporary arrangement until Noah sells his house and finds a new place. What’s easier than buying and selling houses? He’ll be out in no time.

Thankfully, Olivia calls, dragging me away from my chaotic thoughts.

“Are you at home?” she asks.

“I’m almost there, but Cassian isn’t, since that’s what you’re really asking.”

“Where is he?”

“He and Max went hiking.”

Groaning pitifully, she asks, “When will they be back?”

“I don’t know—probably late this afternoon sometime.”

She sighs like she just dropped her ice cream cone and it’s now melting on the pavement at her feet.

“Come over for dinner tonight,” I say, taking pity on her. “The vampires can eat their cow, and I’ll make veggie kabobs.”

“Really?” she asks brightly. “Can I have cow, too?”

“Yes…”

“Deal. I’ll bring the brownies. Make sure you invite Max—I can’t have these things tempting me any longer.”

“Like there’s any way we could get rid of him once he finds out there’s going to be food.”

“Do you think he’ll feel like a fifth wheel on our double date?”

“This is not a date. Noah and I are a no-go, remember?”

“Sure,” she says, like she doesn’t believe me.

“And it doesn’t matter if Max feels weird about the setup. I can’t tell him to invite anyone—our situation is too weird. The poor girl will see Cassian tossing back his beef broth and know something’s not right with our group.”

“Besides that, what if she likes Cassian more than Max?” Olivia agrees. “What if Cassian likes her more than me ?”

“It has disaster written all over it,” I joke. “Though any girl who would pick Cassian over Max is insane.”

She makes a “meh” noise.

“Didn’t you like Max for about five minutes in twelfth grade?”

“It was a phase. He’d just started his band.”

“I don’t get the appeal of the musician thing.”

All the guys in Max’s band are annoying and have egos the size of blimps.

“That’s because you don’t like bad boys, Piper. You like stoic and studly bodyguard types.”

“Those were some interesting adjectives you just chose.”

“Admit it—Noah is your brand of catnip.”

“I’m not admitting anything.”

But when I pull into my drive and see Noah’s SUV is gone, I sigh, just like Olivia earlier.

I’m afraid my best friend is right. Noah is exactly my brand of catnip.