But there weren’t enough rose leaves in the world to disguise the flavor of a BRE.
He stashed the bag in the fridge and ran to the door, wondering where Greg had gone. The ghost had been awfully quiet this evening. The television was off and the radio was silent.
He opened the door to a young man standing there in jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt, his blond hair scraped back from his forehead in a low ponytail. He smiled, warm and inviting, reminding Parker of the time he’d gone with Greg to a gay bar. Half the men there had hit on him; the other half had hit on Greg. It had been a while since a man had hit on him, and if he did, hopefully he wouldn’t be offended when Parker turned him down. He looked like a nice person, but Parker’s interest didn’t swing that way. “Can I help you?”
“Hi. My name’s Brian Cunningham.” Brian shook Parker’s hand. “The city council sent me. Can I come in?”
Parker’s brows rose. What in blue blazes could the city council want with him? As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Um. Sure. I’ve just finished unpacking, so things are a bit messy.” He shut the door behind the shorter man. Brian’s gaze swept the hallway, taking everything in. He finally lit on Greg’s urn. “I heard you’d lost someone recently. The town wanted you to know we’re sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Brian’s expression was strange—like he was waiting for something. “Why did the council send you exactly?” Because somehow Parker knew it wasn’t to offer their condolences.
Brian chuckled. “I’m your new Renfield.”
Parker’s jaw remained shut through sheer force of will. “Excuse me?” Renfields were humans picked by vampires to serve and protect them during daylight hours when they were most vulnerable. Parker had never taken one, not really seeing the need for it.
Besides, he couldn’t afford one.
“Don’t worry too much about it. I come from a long line of Renfields.” Brian swept into the living room and sat on Parker’s favorite chair. “I need to know what duties you’d like me to take care of for you. Did your previous Renfield leave an appointment book or something I could use as a starting point?”
“I don’t need a Renfield.”
“They all say that,” Brian muttered. “Look, every vamp in Maggie’s Grove has one. Trust me, they’d stare at you funny if you didn’t.”
“They’re already going to—every vamp in Maggie’s Grove?” Parker’s knees had gone weak. He settled on the couch before he fell on it.
“You don’t know, do you?” Brian looked even more amused. “How did you find out about Maggie’s Grove?”
“My friend on the mantelpiece was a witch. He told me to come here.”
“Ah. My apologies. We thought you knew.” The smile left his face, his expression becoming serious as death. “Okay, here’s what’s going on. First off, you’re aware Maggie’s Grove is chock-full of supernaturals, right?” At Parker’s stunned look, Brian laughed. “Oh yeah. The witches keep out anyone who either isn’t one or isn’t capable of accepting us. You just found the only town in America where you’re one of the normal residents and humans are considered odd man out.”
Parker was glad he was sitting. He felt light-headed.
“Your settling-in period is officially over. You’ve unpacked, and you’ve been assigned a Renfield, since it’s obvious you don’t have one.”
“Who the hell is this guy?”
Brian jumped. His gaze landed somewhere behind Parker. “Holy fuck. You have a ghost?” His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and if Parker didn’t know better, he’d swear Brian was checking out a seriously hot man.
Could Brian see Greg?
“Can you hear him?”
“Sure. Sensitives and psychics run in my family, and ghosts happen to be my specialty. No wonder Mayor Ibanescu sent me. He knew I’d fit in perfectly.”
“Mayor who?” Since when did the mayor care so much about his resident vampires? “So. Who are you, who the hell is Mayor Ibanescu and what the fuck is going on?” That last was roared loud enough to shake the windows.
Once Brian’s eyes uncrossed, he explained. “Okay. Maggie’s Grove was founded over two hundred and fifty years ago by people from, believe it or not, Transylvania. Cliché, I know, but I swear it’s true.”
“Uh-huh. Pull the other one. I thought most of the people who settled in Maryland were French, Dutch and English, Mr. Cunningham.”
“They were. Mostly. But we had a few…special immigrants—ones with, shall we say, special needs? Maggie’s Grove was founded to harbor them, and in time it became what you see today, a town made up almost completely of supernaturals. We have vampires, werewolves, doppelgängers, psychics, witches, dryads, elementals—you name it. I think the only thing we don’t have are mermaids. And somewhere on the edge of town I hear there’s an actual dragon shifter, but that’s nothing but a rumor. I mean, really.”
“Dragon…shifter?”
Brian snorted, amused. “Who could believe it, right? Those guys are nothing but myth.”
Parker damn near strangled on his laughter. A dragon shifter. Good grief.
Brian shook his head. “And humans like me of course.”
“Of course.” Parker was fascinated. “How does that work? I’d think there’d be problems with humans and supernaturals living together so openly.” This was the only place he’d ever heard of where the humans were not only aware of the supernatural in their midst, but actively welcomed them. Most supernaturals avoided outing themselves to humans, lest they find themselves being hunted by Van Helsings. The hunters delighted in bagging vamps, weres and fae. Van Helsings firmly believed all supernaturals were threats to humanity, whether or not they were. No one wanted to tangle with Van Helsings.
“We protect you, you protect us. We work together as a community. The dryads take care of the forest. The elementals help with various projects, depending on their temperaments. I know a fire elemental who works as a firefighter.”
“And the humans?”
“We take care of you. For instance, every vampire gets a Renfield, paid for by the township. We make sure the daytime side of things is covered, that blood is provided as needed, that sort of thing. In exchange, the vampires become security guards, cops—just about any job that has a night shift. Heck, one of the nighttime librarians is a vampire.”
It certainly wasn’t Steve, the only librarian he’d met so far. Steve’s heartbeat had been healthy, unlike his own. “I’m a botanist.”
“A vampire botanist?”
People needed to stop laughing at what he did for a living. So it wasn’t a normal occupation for the fanged set, but president of the Bela Lugosi fan club had been taken. Besides, capes made him look like a complete spaz. “I work at The Greenhouse.”
Brian winced. “Ouch. Mollie Ferguson is a hard-ass when it comes to that place.”
“I know.” He rotated his shoulders, still sore from the effort to get the display done on time. “Listen, I’m not sure my having a Renfield is such a good idea. I mean, where would you live?”
“Here. With you. We’d set up a Renfield apartment for me so I wouldn’t be in your hair twenty-four-seven. Trust me, you aren’t the first vampire who arrived in town without one, and you won’t be the last.”
“I’m not sure I like this.”
“Well, as his last Renfield, you can fill me in on how to take care of Mr. Hollis, maybe fill in some of his history for me.”
Parker panicked. No way. Greg would have way too much fun with that. “Greg!”
“Last Renfield? Oh hell no. I’m no Renfield!”