Chapter 4

When Wayne’s breathing became the slightest bit shallow, Jo decided not to push it and rolled him back inside. As soon as they reached the party room, they were met with furious glares.

Anthony’s mother pushed herself between the two. “Have you lost your mind? He shouldn’t be outside in this weather. What if he gets sick?”

Jo sighed. She didn’t have the energy to fi ght, and she didn’t want to ruin her son’s birthday. “You’re right. I’m a dumbass. I have to go now anyway.” She placed her hands on the side of Wayne’s head and kissed the top. “Happy birthday, baby.”

She walked backward out of the room, waving to her great-great-grandchildren. The second she was out of sight, she remembered something. She poked her head back in and said, “Hey, Charlie. You know, you share a name with my brother, and guess what? He’s also a vampire.” Charlie’s eyes glimmered with excitement. “You should look him up when you turn eighteen. If you still want to be a vampire, that is.” Jo winked at Charlie’s horrified mother and danced out of the room.

Charlie would never turn someone into a vampire—not that any vampire had the power to do so anyway—but the look in Carrie’s eyes was almost worth having to leave her son’s party early.

The great-grandkids did not disappoint. As she walked down the sidewalk to a nearby tea shop, she could hear their remarks about how stupid she was and how she never cared about Wayne. She didn’t let them bother her,
especially when she heard Wayne ask them to leave and spent the rest of the evening with his children.

“What would you like?” asked the young hipster behind the counter.

Jo looked over the chalkboard menu, trying to remember what she’d purchased last time. She tapped her chin, then remembered she’d texted it to herself. She slid her phone out of her pocket, but when she clicked the button, it didn’t turn on.

“Oh, we have a charging station right over there.” The young man pointed to the back corner where many cords were attached to a power block on a long white table.

“Seriously?” Jo groaned. “Kids can’t even get tea without charging these darn things. When I was a kid, we—” She eyed the young man, who was looking at her like she was nuts. “Never mind.”

Jo shoved her hands in her pockets and stomped over to the station. She had to try seven cords before she found one to fit her phone. Why they needed so many different ones, she would never know. The phone lit up, sounded a little jingle that always made Jo cringe, and then her home screen appeared. Just as she slid her finger across the screen, it started buzzing and beeping as notifications rolled in.

“Ga-ah,” she said as she dropped the phone on the glass table with a loud clang. She covered her ears until the ringing stopped, then picked the phone back up and read the screen. She had twenty-seven missed calls from random numbers and thirty-five unread texts, all from Charlie.

She used her pointer finger to type his number and held the phone away from her ear as it rang.

“Jo!” Charlie shouted from the other end. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day.”

She cringed. “Sorry, I had my phone on silent before it died. I hate the weird jingle that happens every time someone calls.”

“It’s called a ringtone, Jo. Jeez.”

“Yeah, but it feels like someone’s banging in my brain.” She checked the phone battery. Four percent.People acted like these things are magic, but they took an hour to freaking charge.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to have a family meeting, right now. How soon can you get to my house?”

Twenty-two hours later, the entire family was sitting around Charlie’s living room. The room was long and had a tall, slanted ceiling. The house had an open floor plan. Behind the living area sat a small dining table and beyond that was a kitchen straight from a millennial mom’s magazine. A staircase led to a loft and two other bedrooms.

Annie came from the kitchen with a tray of glass bowls filled with chicken noodle soup. “Here; everyone should eat.” She placed the tray on the coffee table and waited for everyone to grab a bowl, but they stayed frozen in their seats. Clarence was resting in the light brown recliner, Jo and Frances were squeezed in a chair together even though there was an empty couch across from them, and Charlie, Wyatt, and Eliza were standing on opposite sides of the room.

Annie glared at each of them. “Well…go on.”

“Mom,” Wyatt groaned. “We don’t need to eat food. How many times do we need to go over this?”

Charlie walked toward him. “Hey, don’t talk to Mom like that.”

Wyatt huffed. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

Charlie shoved him.

Clarence stood and shouted, “Hey!”

Charlie shook his head. “I can’t believe you. You knew this was a bad idea, but you did it anyway.”

Annie stepped between them. “Charlie please, can we discuss this like adults?”

He looked Wyatt up and down a few times before sitting on the couch and grabbing a bowl of soup.

Annie took a seat beside him. “Now, Wyatt, would you like to explain the situation to everyone?”

Wyatt placed his hands on the back of the only empty chair. “Yes, Mom, thank you.” He cleared his throat. “There was a picture taken in the thirties of me playing guitar with some guys at a festival one night. It was put in a newspaper and one of my fans—people who watch the show—was sorting through her hoarder of a grandfather’s papers and he still had it from when he was a kid. She took a picture of it, posted it online beside a recent picture of me, and made a whole conspiracy theory about how I was immortal.”

Jo closed her eyes. Just because she was forced to listen to the blow-up didn’t mean she had to watch it.

Charlie clenched his jaw. “That’s great. Now we have a target on our backs—again—because of you.”

Wyatt shook his head. “My agent promised it would be forgotten about within a few days.”

Charlie whipped out his phone. “Oh yeah? Then why have there been multiple conspiracy videos posted about the up-and-coming TV star being taken in by a coven of immortals that rule the television industry?”

Frances grimaced. “I don’t want to be associated with those pain in the neck, cockeyed knuckleheads.”

“Really?” Charlie asked. “That’s your problem with all this?”

“Will you please just calm down?” Wyatt said. “This will all blow over in a few days.”
“But what if it doesn’t?” Jo whispered. Her eyes were puffy, as if holding back buckets of tears. Frances leaned against her as she shook. “What if…if one of them comes looking for us?” She turned to look at Charlie. “What if they…I mean, they can’t—” Her chest rose and fell with panicked breaths. Suddenly the room was too small and every movement echoed through her brain.

“Jo?” Wyatt asked. He crouched by her chair and put his hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”

She clenched her jaw and shook her head. Annie jumped off the couch, causing the wooden pegs that held it steady to scrape against the floor. Frances rubbed her arm, but Jo leaned away, the touch causing every neuron in her body to fire at once. The hairs on her legs stood up. The music the next-door neighbors were playing blasted through her ears as though she were wearing headphones.

That was it! She slid off the chair and ran to the kitchen table where her leather bag sat and grabbed her headphones.

The noise-canceling feature blocked out little sound for her, but it was enough to gain control of her emotions. She sat on the floor, curled into a ball, and put her forehead on her knees.

Everyone stared at her, unsure whether to leave her alone or help calm her down. She was hyperventilating, but it’s not like she would pass out from lack of oxygen to her brain.

Charlie grabbed Wyatt’s collar and dragged him outside, tossing him on the front lawn. Everyone, Jo excluded, followed and watched as Charlie punched Wyatt, breaking his nose and possibly more.

“Do you see what you’ve done?” Charlie stood and waved for Wyatt to come at him. “She hasn’t been that way in twenty years. You always gotta ruin something, don’t you?” He kicked Wyatt’s side. “Come on, get up.”

Wyatt stood, keeping his hands at his sides. Charlie snarled and punched him again, in the chin this time. Wyatt’s neck cracked as it did a one-eighty.

“Charlie,” Annie cried. “Don’t do this. Please, come in and we can talk.”

“I am done talking,” he yelled.

Wyatt snapped his head back into place. “You think I wanted this to happen? You think I expected any of this?”

“We told you this would happen,” Charlie said. “Jo and I knew this was a bad idea, but no. You just had to give a big speech about how we’ve all lived over a hundred years and need to stop living in fear. But that’s easier for some,” he pointed to Wyatt, “than others.”

He pushed Wyatt one more time, with no more force than that of a human, so he only stumbled back a few feet. Charlie glanced at the house then at the ground. “I think you all should leave.”

Annie ran over to Charlie and placed her hand on his. “Honey, I know this feels like a big problem, but we can only solve it if we’re together. Getting angry about what’s happened will not make things easier.”

Charlie squeezed her hand before pulling away. “I know, but Jo won’t be able to calm down until the tension is gone, and I won’t be able to calm down until he is out of my face.”

Annie nodded, then waved for everyone to follow her to the cars parked in the driveway. Wyatt stayed behind as everyone else buckled in or threw their bike helmets on. “You know, I asked everyone to leave and that definitely includes you,” Charlie said as he made his way to his front door.

“I just wanna know why. Why do you never talk about what happened to you guys when you were taken?” Wyatt asked.

Charlie stopped as his fingertips touched the door handle. “There’s no reason to share your nightmares.”