The Vampire's Stand: Marked by Death, #3

By Rowena Aiello

In Northam, MA, nothing will be the same.

 

Zara de Jaager keeps trying to get back to her non-hunter life. She hangs out with friends, goes to parties, and generally does her best to enjoy what little is left of the summer.

 

The problem is, she can't get the nuns' letter out of her mind. They claim to have found a cure for vampirism in a young girl. Now, they want every hunter to visit them, and figure out exactly what to do with her. And while Zara doesn't trust the nuns entirely, this girl could be the lifeline they've all been looking for.

 

Or she could be their greatest undoing. Because while trying to help this girl as best she can, Zara also discovers that an army of vampires who know about the cure are coming, and everyone, from the abbey to Northam itself, is in their path.

 

The only question left to ask: Who will be left standing in the end?

• Language: English
• Publisher: M Publishing
• Release date: Apr 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223502777

Rowena Aiello

Rowena Aiello's love of fantasy and romance stories began when she was reading Twilight fanfiction in high school—because where else was she going to find anyone who would make sure Bella/Jacob would be endgame? After years of fruitless searches in mossy woods, snowy mountaintops, and gorgeous mansions revealed no trace of hidden vampires, werewolves, or any other such creatures, she took to creating her own versions. She now lives in a definitely-haunted house with her wonderful but sparkle-free family.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

July 30, 1989

Sighing with frustration, Zara de Jaager ran into the living room, sweat pouring down her neck. Why can I never find a goddamn hair tie? she asked herself, scanning the coffee table in the rosy light of oncoming evening.

I have one, her mom called.

Zara spun to find Joan still sitting at the dining room table. Paperwork surrounded her. As the evening sun poured in through the front of the house, it left her mom in shadows, squinting beneath an overhead light that turned her copper skin a muted gold color.

She held up a hair tie with a tired grin, and then pointed to a box at her side. Could you take this into the office for me if I give it to you?

What office? Zara asked, racing over and pulling her massive cloud of tight black curls into a fluffy ponytail.

Her mom raised her feathery black brows. Gabi’s, she said, and pointed to the hallway beside the kitchen.

Dread settled in Zara’s chest. She glanced over at the hallway as if her one remaining mom had just asked her to walk into a gang hangout. O-oh. I—thought you hated going in that room? she asked, her neck growing even sweatier with nerves.

Her mom returned to the paperwork in front of her, sighing again. I do. But after talking with your Aunt Kay last night, I realized I can’t hide from it forever. We need the space, and while I do believe we’re never truly gone after we die, my wife won’t be using it anymore. Not in this life, at least. The corner of her lip quivered.

Zara turned back to the office again. Her palms felt slick. O-okay, she whispered, and picked up the box.

The walk to the room took longer than she wanted. The hallway seemed to grow as she moved towards it. Even though the door had been kept open, probably to air out the windowless space, the office beyond was dark. She could smell the musty, jasmine-scented air from a foot away.

Then she was in. She didn’t need the light to know exactly where everything was: bookshelf on the far wall. Vampire hunting equipment along the floor in front of it. Desk to the left. A cabinet on the other side of the room.

She put the box down in the middle of the tiny space. Feeling around for the light, she snapped the desk lamp on, and then braced herself.

There, in the middle of the desk, lay the reason she feared this room in the first place: the letter from St. Cyprian’s abbey.

It stared up at her. It even looked untouched since she’d opened it two days ago.

How is that even possible, given how often Mom’s been in here?

She’d hoped that her mom’s aversion to the office itself would keep her away from the room, at least until Zara could figure out what to do with the letter. It’d been less than three weeks after her other mom, Gabi, had died—at the hands of the vampires her hunting organization had an agreement with, no less—and yet Gabi’s old boss was still contacting them.

Sure, the letter was about them finding a cure for vampirism, but that didn’t make the people behind it saints. The cure itself was in a girl, of all places. Now, though, the news of it just haunted Zara, reminding her that she still hadn’t told anyone about what had happened. Worse, she’d kept quiet despite the fact only a few days ago, she’d come home to Northam, Massachusetts for good after making it through a couple deadly, vampire-laden excursions to eastern Arizona in search of Gabi’s killer.

She wasn’t about to break her promise to Joan that she was done with vampire hunting. That life had cost her her mama, and her godfather, Father John Emerling, and gotten her banned from the hunting organization for reckless behavior.

That was to say nothing of the reckless behavior the organization had been getting into, protecting vampires in the name of curing homelessness. But Zara had also decided then that she wasn’t interested in losing more people. Only a few days ago, she’d been sitting on the couch in the living room, sobbing her eyes out, and telling the hunter Yvonne that she couldn’t keep up this work. One thing she remembered vividly, though: during that time, she hadn’t been able to do much, besides replay what she’d seen in Arizona over, and over.

So no, her promise to Joan of never going back to being a hunter hadn’t been a load of nonsense.

Except that’s not how it looks from here, does it? You haven’t shown anyone the letter. This makes it look like you’re hiding something. It makes you look like you still want to be Gabi’s heir, the sole remaining vampire hunter of the de Jaager family. It makes you seem interested in helping that girl they found the cure in, instead of being petrified that they’ll be coming after you to help the organization.

With a trembling hand, Zara touched the envelope with the tips of her black fingers.

A blast of electric piano filled the room. She jumped so hard, she nearly hit the ceiling. Her pulse only calmed when she realized she wasn’t being cursed: her little brother was just listening to Thriller in his room.

Bram, could you turn that down? her mom called. Her voice felt too close to the office for comfort.

Just show it to her, and get it over with. Someone else in this house needs to know about it, or you’ll be walking on eggshells forever.

The thump of Thriller receded. Zara snatched up the letter, and marched out of the room.

Despite how close her voice had sounded mere seconds ago, her mom still sat at the kitchen table. This time, though, she had a steaming mug of tea at one elbow. The papers around her had been meticulously cleared from beside it, except for a thick notepad, where she scribbled something as fast as lightning, before flipping to a fresh page.

Zara stalled at the end of the hallway, debating if she should interrupt, until her mom caught her standing there.

What’s up? she asked.

I can come back, Zara said.

Her mom pushed out a chair with her toe. As soon as Zara sat, her mom waved a brown hand at the paperwork. Bills and business. Gabi’s dead for barely a month, and— She let out a sigh, the corner of her mouth quivering. Death is more expensive than life.

The weight of that hit Zara in the chest. She stared out at the field of letters, all bolded and highlighted and some with red lettering, and pressed her own between her palms again. It seemed stupid, now. Another useless worry. Are we gonna be alright? she asked.

Her mom nodded, and gripped her shoulder. We’ll be fine, she whispered. Folding her hands in her lap, she sniffled. So what’s up?

Zara glanced at the letter. She could barely bring herself to unfold it. This came for Mama, she said, and then set it in front of Joan.

Zara studied her mom as she read it. The woman’s expressions ranged from cursorily interested, to mildly surprised, and then totally confused. She sat back with a scoff.

Why would they send this here? Gabi’s dead, and you’re banned.

Zara shrugged, twisting her fingers in her lap. Maybe they forgot about Mama. Maybe they don’t care that I’m banned. Either way, it makes me nervous.

Her mom glanced up at her from the corner of her eye. Because you think they’ll come after you if you don’t go?

Zara ducked her head. Is that so ridiculous?

Her mom pursed her lips, and read the letter again. It doesn’t say anything about where or when they want you to go. Just—reply as soon as you get this. What are they implying here? She glanced at the top of the letter, and then froze. This is postmarked almost four days ago. How long have you had this? her mom asked, rounding on Zara with hurt in her eyes.

Zara twisted her fingers together faster. Maybe two days? she whispered.

Her mom’s mouth gaped. Zara, why? Why would you keep this, and not tell anyone? I thought you were done with vampire hunting after you came home from that disaster in Arizona. You promised me you were.

Zara’s whole body went cold. She licked her lips with a sandpaper tongue. I was scared, she whispered.

Of what? her mom asked, shaking her head.

Zara tried not to gape at her. I mean, how can you not be? They’re claiming they found the cure in some random girl? And now they’re even asking Mama to come out to see them?

Her mom closed her eyes, and shook her head. Sounds like a clerical error, she said, folding the letter back up, and putting it under a pile of crumpled envelopes.

Zara leaned closer. Maybe it’s not. Maybe they’re up to no good.

Her mom picked up a letter from the files in front of her, smoothing out the folds so she could read it. Well, according to what Gabi used to say, these people are doing good work.

Zara scoffed, unable to believe what she was hearing. I’m sure that’s what she wanted to believe. Are you saying she didn’t know about their plan to ‘cure homelessness’ in Arizona? You were there when I rescued those people from the vampire village. You can’t tell me she didn’t have some kind of orders to look the other way. Even Mama’s old hunting friend, Yvonne, admitted to it.

Her mom put away the paper she was reading, and folded her arms on top of the table. So what are you telling me? she asked, an uncomfortable edge to her voice. Are you asking me to step in and tell them off for contacting us? Or are you telling me you want to do something about this, the way you wanted to do something about Gabi’s killer? Because if I remember correctly, the last time you got involved with vampires, you wound up with PTSD, and I nearly lost you the way I lost your mama.

Zara’s jaw dropped. The comment stung so hard, she didn’t know what to say. Part of her wanted to get defensive.

At the same time, she couldn’t blame her mom for thinking this way. The last time Zara had done anything with the organization, she’d given precious little thought to how her mom was handling her wife’s death, lost as she was in her own grief, and bent on revenge against the things that had killed Gabi.

She hadn’t even considered how her brother would feel about losing a sister. Her thoughts had only been on the fact that she’d needed to protect them, and being a hunter, she felt like she was the only one who could.

But she hadn’t forgotten how upset Joan had been when she’d finally gotten to Arizona, and seen the carnage. It’d shaken Zara to her core. Up to that point, even if she hadn’t felt invincible while facing down vampires, Zara had at least been relatively sure she’d be okay. It’d hardly ever occurred to her that her mom and brother could be losing someone else to the hunting life.

I guess that’s what happens when you’re too busy focusing on your own feelings.

And so much more has changed since then.

I want you to tell me what to do with it, Zara whispered.

With a calm Zara could hardly believe, her mom took her hand. Raised veins and wrinkles lining her otherwise youthful skin. Put it away. Or throw it out. Consider the fact that you might be presuming too much about these people. They’re not all bad. A cure for vampirism can only be a good thing, right?

Zara’s hand trembled in her mom’s. Not if Mama’s boss sides with the vampires again.

Her mom shook her head. "The Abbess is not the only one in charge of the hunting organization, or the agreements they made to keep the vampires happy. The Prioress has a say, too, and from what I’ve seen, she’s got a good head on her shoulders.

So, she clapped her hands, and then scooped some of her paperwork up. Put this away, and help me get ready for dinner. Are you still going out?

Yes, Zara said, taking the stack of papers her mom handed her. She kept an eye on the envelopes, letting out a breath of relief when her mom tossed them in the trash.

Great. You haven’t hung out with your girls since before Gabi died. Now go. We need to set the table.

Zara obeyed, racing in and out of Gabi’s old office like it might still burn her, if she wasn’t careful.

The moment dinner was over, she went to her room to change. As she slipped into comfy neon sweatpants, she caught sight of Gabi’s old crucifix sitting on her desk. She’d taken it off the day after Father Emerling’s memorial, and still hadn’t decided what to do with it. Unable to bring herself to toss it in a drawer, Zara put it in her tiny jewelry box.

Behind it, a photo stared out at her from the back of her desk.

In it, four girls, including herself, smiled to the photographer on Halloween night the year before. Zara and Helena had dressed as Ghostbusters, and their friends, Brianna and Kimmi, looked like brown and white versions of Madonna. She could still smell the hair spray just by looking at that picture. After a second, she found herself smiling right back at them.

It’s okay to want something better for yourself than what you wanted when you were a child. And there’s nothing to be scared of anymore. You’re not like Mama: you don’t want to hunt and live a regular life. From now on, everything will be normal.

Zara took a deep breath. Then, with butterflies in her stomach, she headed outside.

***

Helena lived in the middle of town, within walking distance of the high school. The split-level house sat back from the edge of the road, without a single sidewalk in sight. In the growing dark, its brown paneling and cover of dangerously tall oak trees turned it into a shadow among shadows. Each time Zara visited the place, she remembered why everyone called this stretch of houses the woodlands.

A vampire could hide anywhere among the trees, and no one would ever see it.

With a shiver that had nothing to do with the slight, cold rain cutting through the day’s humidity, Zara swung her bike up the rounded driveway, and sighed with relief. Muted gold light filled the far right window, covered by a thin curtain. She parked at the side of the house, shook her mass of black curls free from her helmet, and tried to leave the idea of vampires behind with the rain.

For god’s sake, Zara, stop it. You’re not in Arizona anymore, and you’re certainly not a hunter, she told herself, heading up the curved walkway.

Besides, if any were here, you’d sense their compulsion waves coming off of them, whispered a voice at the back of her head.

Zara pushed that thought back, hard, imagining herself locking it up behind an iron wall. Still, she had to stop herself from giving the road a quick glance over her shoulders before she knocked on the front door.

Seconds later, a pajama-clad Helena opened it. Her jaw dropped and her eyes sparkled, looking Zara up and down. Hey! she whispered, her voice a full octave higher than it’d ever been.

Zara’s face went hot, and she smiled back a little, sticking her hands in her pockets. Hey.

I—didn’t think you’d come, honestly, Helena said. One tawny brown hand scratched the back of her head, her long waves of chestnut hair dancing loose around her shoulders. Zara couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her friend not wearing a braid. Without it, she looked younger. A second later, though, Helena motioned to her. You’ve been so—

Distant, Zara whispered, her smile falling.

Helena’s big brown eyes got huge, and she looked as crestfallen as Joan had only hours before. I was gonna say busy. Oh my God, Zara! she said, stepping out and pulling Zara into her arms, until every inch of their bodies were touching. Your mom just died! You’re allowed to be consumed by it.

Immediately, something shifted in Zara’s chest. They’d hugged before, but it’d never felt like this: intimate beyond anything she could’ve ever hoped for, beyond even the feminine privacy of their past sleepovers. Her friend’s touch, combined with the softness of their breasts pressing together, and the feel of worn cotton under her fingers, made her forget what they were talking about for a moment.

Zara hugged her back, hard, and let her chin rest on Helena’s boxy shoulder. The scent of coconut filled her nose, and she had to resist the urge to bury her face in Helena’s hair.

It was nice…and confusing.

Sure, she’d looked at Helena before, eyeing her the way she’d eyed pretty guys at school. But they’d never hugged like this. And Helena had never looked at her with that amount of joy before. It was like she’d been holding her breath in the hopes that Zara would show up. It made Zara want more, the way she often did with the guys she liked. She held on tighter.

Then Helena pulled away, and Zara remembered where she was, and what they were talking about, and why Helena was hugging her at all. Face getting hot, she backed up.

It’s like I said when we went to dinner the other night: I really, really just want to stop talking about death. She dared peek at her friend’s gaze.

Helena offered her the tiniest smile, cupping Zara’s face in both her hands. Zara had to resist the urge to nuzzle the girl’s palms. That’s okay, too, she whispered.

Zara’s heart cracked wide open. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant.

Helena shook her head. Stop apologizing.

Zara nodded, a small smile touching her lips. Okay, she whispered. She studied her friend’s face. Something was new, but she couldn’t place what it was.

Reaching out a tentative hand, Zara ran her thumb down the side of Helena’s jaw. Not a single beard hair met her fingertips anymore. The pride in Helena’s face made joy bloom in Zara’s chest. The hormones are working really well, Zara whispered, amazed.

Helena barked a laugh, but her eyes sparkled. Glad you noticed, she said, and took Zara’s hand.

Again, a simple gesture she’d done so many times before. This time, though, Zara felt a tingle running up her arm.

Can she feel that, too? Zara searched her friend’s face, but Helena just kept staring at her like she couldn’t believe Zara was really there.

Maybe not.

Helena! Who the hell is it? Kimmi’s voice called from somewhere deep inside the split-level house.

Helena’s jaw dropped, and she took her hand back to clapped both of them over her mouth, giggling. C’mon, let’s go surprise the girls, she whispered. She took Zara’s hand again before Zara had a moment to lament it being gone.

Inside, on the lower level, the muted, atmospheric darkness had been tinted by the gold light from the window. The girls’ laughter floated out to them, almost completely drowned out by the heavy drumbeat of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me coming from upstairs. Zara rose up on her toes, trying to see where it was coming from, but Helena pulled her away.

Just ignore Sid, she said over her shoulder. I’m pretty sure he only does that when he knows I have friends over.

Actually, I like that song, Zara said, following her towards the opposite end of the house. In the deepest part of her chest, a tiny part of her soul crumbled at the fact that Helena didn’t already know that. The longer she listened, the more she caught the notes of live guitar playing alongside the record. Is he—

"Practicing? Yeah. He’s getting good, too. That bass is almost exactly right, or so he keeps telling Mom. She thinks he’s too loud. Dad only encourages him because he lives down the Cape, in Atlantis, most of the time." Helena sent an eye roll over her shoulder, and waved Zara over to the living room.

Thank God he’s going to college in a month. Then Dad can deal with him. But anyways, look who I found! she said, stepping towards the couch, throwing her arms up overhead.

A pair of heads turned, blonde and brown hair swishing, and then a pair of pink mouths fell open in twin screams. Both girls leapt off the couch, and dove at Zara. With a sheepish grin, she caught each of them in a hug.

Hi Bri, Hi Kimmi, she said, and then gritted her teeth as they started shaking her.

You actually came! they each squealed in her ears, until she had to hold them at arm’s length, or lose her hearing.

I told you she would, Kimmi said, tugging on Bri’s twisted brown curls.

Her twin scoffed, pulling Kimmi’s hair right back. "Well, excuse me for doubting, considering we haven’t seen her since school got out."

Zara’s face went hot. Sorry, y’all. It’s been a long summer, she said, sheepish.

Her face only got hotter as Helena wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her back tenderly. "Cut her some slack, guys. She did just lose a parent," she said.

The twins sobered, glancing at Zara from under their eyelashes. Sorry about that, they chorused, and then Bri straightened up.

"How are you doing?"

Zara shrugged, lost for any decent words. Helena kept rubbing her back, a heavy, soothing motion. It gave Zara the strength to say, As well as I can be, I guess.

If we hadn’t been away, we totally would’ve been at the funeral, Bri whispered, Kimmi nodding hard beside her.

Zara gave them a weak smile. Don’t mention it. We were all shocked, she said, letting out a long breath as silence settled over them. Combined with Bri and Kimmi’s searching eyes, Zara started feeling like they were waiting for something. She just couldn’t figure out what.

This is harder than I realized.

Let’s sit, Helena said, and then pushed them all to the couch.

As she’d done a hundred times before, Zara took the space they left for her at the far end, blinking at the blue light coming from the TV. This time, though, it felt…different. The continued quiet of the group made her feel like she was intruding. She slid into the space like she was sliding into an old jacuzzi: hoping it was still warm, and that the bubbles still worked.

So far, the water still felt too cold for comfort. It felt like their cocoon of friendship no longer fully extended to her, and she’d become her own bubble, glomming onto theirs.

Worst of all, she could still feel the twins studying her.

But before they could ask the questions Zara could taste them thinking, Helena grabbed the VHS of Pretty in Pink from off the coffee table. Now that everyone’s here, let’s start this thing, she said, popping it in the player.

Agreed, Zara said, glad to hear Bri and Kimmi chorusing it with her.

Five minutes into the movie, Zara felt the tension in the room cut in half. Ten minutes in, the nail polish came out and the snacks withered away, leaving them balancing on their heels as they grabbed more chips and napkins from the kitchen. After twenty minutes, their movie commentary turned to gossip that started during their bathroom breaks, and then extended into their movie time.

Zara found herself getting lost in it, painting Helena’s nails while Bri painted Kimmi’s. She laughed at all the jokes about which runty boy the girls liked, and who was out of who’s league. But when the conversation became about how Scott Whitney had been one of the guys they made fun of, in all his awkward and lumbering ways, Zara sobered. Rebecca, they said at least twice during the conversation, had been way too good for him.

But they also never saw him in his last moments.

The thought led her to smear too much polish onto Helena’s tiny, manicured toenail, the bright pink color shocking against Helena’s soft, tawny brown skin. Shit, Zara said, reaching for the acetone.

It’s okay, you’re doing a beautiful job, Helena said.

Zara looked up at her, and Helena’s smile widened, her eyes soft and shy. It caught Zara’s breath. For a second, she waited for Helena to do something—to make some kind of move that would single out Zara as special. But Helena just leaned over to braid Bri’s hair.

The breath went out of Zara as fast as it’d come in. As she finished helping Helena, she started studying her friend’s interactions with the other girls in a way she never had in the past. Once the nails were done, Helena rubbed Kimmi’s back, and then snuggled against the twins, propping her feet in Zara’s lap to dry.

The intimacy of before, where it was just the two of them, evaporated, until Zara felt like her chest was caving in.

I guess she didn’t feel that spark before. I guess I’m not as special to her as I thought I was.

A mixed flare of sadness and jealousy sparked up inside her heart. It made her immediately want to recoil from the girl, tuck her legs in and pull away from every single one of her touches. She even jumped when Helena leaned up at one point, and gave a vigorous rub to her shoulder.

Stop being a brat about it, something at the back of her mind whispered. Remember: you pushed them away for a month. You should just be happy they’re letting you in at all right now.

Sitting up taller in her seat, Zara checked the paint on Helena’s toes, chastened.

Ten minutes later, the credits rolled, bringing her back down to earth. The clock had struck midnight, and the others were getting to their feet. Yawning wide, Zara stretched her arms over her head, suddenly tired by the entire day.

"So what have you been up to since…you know," Kimmi said, her voice lighter than normal.

Zara froze as she realized the others were watching her, and then her face went hot. She pulled her arms back down, and studied the girl, still sitting on the couch between Bri and Helena’s old spots. All Zara could find there was curiosity.

Kimmi! Bri and Helena chorused.

Kimmi’s face turned bright pink, but she shrugged. What? C’mon, you all have to be dying to know. Even you said you only got cryptic messages about the fact that she was going away, Helena.

This time, it was Helena’s turn to blush. Even Bri gave her a look that made Zara’s gut tighten.

They’ve been talking about me.

Then: I should’ve known they’d have questions.

Taking a deep breath, Zara nodded, buying some time to figure out what, and how much, she was going to say. You’re right. I went into hiding, and it wasn’t fair to y’all.

Bri sat back down. Helena tucked the VHS into its box, and then folded her hands in front of her. Even the music upstairs had quieted. Zara felt like the whole house was listening.

She raised her hands. The long and short of it is, I went to Arizona with some of Gabi’s old colleagues. It wasn’t planned, at least not for me, but they wanted someone from the family to go visit a site out there, and I was old enough to go on my own. I guess she had a bit of history out there, and they wanted me to help collect it all so it would be home, with us, instead of sitting in some boxes in an office.

What kind of history? Bri asked, her voice quiet enough not to be jarring.

Zara’s pulse sped up, but she shook her head, trying to keep herself calm as she tried to describe the vampire agreements in a way that would reveal nothing. Old documents. Forms, journals, memorabilia, stuff like that. Some people out there knew her, and wanted us to have it, but they couldn’t make it out to see us. They showed me around a bit, talked about the funeral business, shook my hand, and then sent me home. She scrubbed at a dirty patch on her jeans. It was kind of sad, really.

Did it help to go? Kimmi asked, as quietly as Bri had. She looked smaller than before, somehow, and it made Zara feel more tender towards her.

Zara nodded. A little. Now I know what she did when she went on trips. It always seemed like such a mystery before.

Kimmi smiled a little, and reached over to rub Zara’s knee. I really am sorry about your mama, she said, taking Zara’s hand.

And me, Bri added, holding onto her sister.

Ditto, Helena whispered, tears rimming her eyes.

Zara smiled back at them all, her nose burning. Thanks, guys, she said as they all stood up with her.

She walked out of the house lighter than when she came in. It felt like she’d closed the gap with her friends, and got farther away from her old life, by telling them something.

Outside, a chill had fallen. The twins brushed it off, pulling their bikes from the garage, but Helena ran back inside to get Zara a sweater.

I’ll bring it back soon, Zara said, sliding it over her head. The powdery scent of Love’s Baby Soft perfume enveloped her.

Only if you want to, Helena said, a teasing smile lifting her cheeks. Then she softened. It really was good to see you. We don’t hang out enough anymore. Which reminds me… She shuffled her feet. Are you coming to Sid’s party on Saturday?

The question caught Zara so completely by surprise that she just stared at Helena for a moment. I—didn’t know there was one.

"You have to come, Zee, Kimmi said, already circling them on her bike. We used to have so much fun before—"

Kim! Bri snapped, watching Zara like she might blow up at the very mention of it.

Kimmi’s face went stricken. She slammed to a stop, her gaze on the ground. She didn’t have to finish the sentence; Zara could already hear it floating towards her.

Before your mama died. Before you stopped calling. Before you made yourself scarce, and disinterested, and started ignoring everyone.

Kimmi twisted her handlebars, peering up at Zara from under her eyelashes. I’m sorry, she whispered.

Guilt, hot and heavy, settled in Zara’s stomach. Swallowing hard, she nodded, offering them a soft smile. I’ll ask my mom, but he might need help at work.

Kimmi smiled back. The forced brightness on her face pained Zara. Sounds great, she said, and then raced off so fast that Bri had to chase after her.

Zara threw her leg over her bike, and then paused as Helena came up to her.

You alright? she asked, her hand covering Zara’s.

Another tingle went up Zara’s arm at the touch, but she forced it back down, remembering the way Helena was with the others. Instead, Zara studied her, trying to figure out what her friend wanted to hear. When nothing seemed to come up, she shrugged. Yeah. This was fun. I didn’t realize how much I missed you guys.

Helena smiled, moving in front of Zara’s bike. Her eyes blazed in the light from the garage, and Zara couldn’t help staring. Her pulse raced, and her palms grew sweaty, feeling the way she did about Helena, and having her friend so close.

But does she know the effect she has on me? No. Not even a little bit.

It didn’t help slow her pulse at all, but it reminded her that her friend certainly didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives.

I know we just hung out, but why don’t you come over again tomorrow. Please? I’d like to hang out again, just the two of us. I can catch you up on what’s been happening, without Bri and Kimmi talking over it all.

Just the two of us? Like a date?

Zara had to keep herself from swallowing her tongue at the idea. It was too tantalizing. At the same time, the longer she stayed here, the less she felt like she could read whatever Helena might be saying. There was no sexiness in her tone, no hint or suggestion that she wanted anything more than to spend some time with Zara by herself for a minute.

So why can’t I stop the heat in my chest from rising towards my neck at the thought of all this?

Tongue glued to the roof of her mouth, she nodded. Helena let her hand go.

See you then, her friend whispered, stepping back from the bike.

Before she could fall over and make a big ass of herself, Zara kicked down the stand, and took off down the driveway. The breeze was too warm to be cleansing. Pedaling fast, she raced herself home, trying to shake off the heady dreams about Helena that were already too close to the surface of her mind for her liking.

CHAPTER TWO

Zara rode her post-girls-night high all the way into the funeral home the next morning. For the first time since Gabi had died, she didn’t dread being there. Instead, she waltzed right up the stairs to the main offices, and plunked herself down beside Bram.

He smiled, the expression tinged with confusion, and handed her a folder. You alright?

She raised a brow. Yeah, why?

He shrugged, his dress shirt crinkling. You’re usually the first one trying to get out of here. You take off running.

Maybe I changed, she said, flipping the folder open. What am I doing with this?

His smile tightened, and he played with the end of his black tie. We’re renovating Mama’s old office. It’ll be a tiny conference room, so we need you to take the files that look like this, and bring them to the main office that Mom and I sit in.

The news hit her, but not nearly as hard as Zara thought it might. Taking a deep breath, she nodded, and stood up. Time to move on, isn’t it, she said.

His smile softened, and he took a seat, his own to-do list bursting off the notepad in front of him. It’s time.

Zara went to her Mama’s office. The place was more barren than ever: someone had taken their family photo off the wall, and the desk had been cleared of everything except a lamp and phone. The box fan swirled hot wind around the room, and the cabinets stood at attention in either corner.

It still smelled like Gabi’s jasmine perfume.