Exes and Exorcisms by Keira Blackwood (animal farm read TXT) 📕

the words in my own voice, felt my lips move, but it wasn’t me who was speaking. “You think you’re a vampire hunter? That’s hysterical.”

I wasn’t so sure I was a vampire hunter at all anymore. But that wasn’t the point. Why did this voice think it was funny?

“You like Kelly, right?”

Yes.

“You want to help her?”

Of course.

“We’re going to do that.”

Helping Kelly sounded a lot better than throwing myself on the ground. So when my arms pushed me up and I rose to my feet, I didn’t fight.

Two of the women from the coffee shop walked past, giving me a wide berth as they jogged along with their strollers.

A third stopped beside me. “Are you okay?”

No.

“Peachy, thanks, ma’am.” I tipped the hat I wasn’t wearing.

She gave me a strange smile, then rejoined her friends.

I started skipping, as I had before. This time I wasn’t worried. I wasn’t fighting. I was along for the joyful stroll to whatever I was doing to help Kelly.

Down a block, I spotted a little red trolley. A big sticker on the side labeled it Forbidden Journey Town Tours. It was crawling down the road like a tortoise, and it was perfect.

Perfect for what? I had no idea. But I could feel the kismet arrival of the trolley in my bones. So I skipped a little faster.

With a hop, a jump, and a grab, I landed on the open steps to the trolley.

“You can’t do that,” the driver told me.

I flashed him my best smile and showered him in a handful of coins.

The trolley swerved as the driver swatted the coins from his person. Then he slowed from a crawl to a stop.

He rose from his seat and pointed at me. “Get out.”

“Kelly needs these people,” I said. “You all belong to me now.”

I looked over my find, a group of seniors who mostly stared blankly at me. All except the woman behind the driver’s seat. She smacked her cane on the ground. “I paid good money to go on this drive. Someone better start moving or I’m leaving one star on Yelp.”

I tipped my non-existent hat to her, then turned to the driver. “You heard the lady.”

He made a series of noises and shook his head, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’m calling the police.”

That was not what the lady had asked for. And this man was supposed to be in customer service.

I snatched him up by his lapels and tossed him through the open door. He landed headfirst in a large pile of snow, and flailed his arms and legs all about.

Of course with the driver gone, someone had to drive the trolley. I took a seat in the front, where there was a hat, a captain’s hat that belonged on a sea vessel, only it was here dangling from the rearview. I placed the hat on my head, and worked the controls, driving straight back toward the tattoo parlor so I could deliver Kelly my gift.

“If you’re driving, you have to tell us a story,” the woman behind me said.

I looked up in the rearview and adjusted it down to meet her gaze. Beneath a set of silver caterpillar eyebrows was a set of harsh gray eyes.

I grabbed the little microphone and pushed the button so all twenty or so people on the trolley could hear me. “Once upon a time, a wolf tried his best not to be a wolf.”

In the rearview, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face, one with judgmental brows.

“Which building is this story supposed to be about?” the woman behind me asked, pulling my attention back to my tale.

“But he failed miserably, over and over again. Until a woman domesticated him and made him into a dog.”

“Wolves don’t become dogs,” the woman said.

I ignored her and continued. “His love for her was so profound that he did what any loving mutt would do.”

“This is stupid,” the woman said.

“He brought her a red present, as bright as her hair. Filled with juicy humans that she could make into her children.”

Murmurs carried from the back of the trolley. I wasn’t concerned. No one wanted to be murdered at first. But they’d like it after she brought them back. Twenty-ish new vampires, all for Kelly. She’d be so happy.

“You’ve lost it,” the woman said. “You know we’re not children, right? This is a senior group, from the center.”

“Shhh, we’re almost—”

Something thwacked into the top of my head, and the bus swerved. Everything spun. Surprised by the elderly woman behind me, repeatedly beating my head with her cane, I lost control of my body.

Or gained it.

The inner me was seething, fighting to be free.

Which part was the real me?

The familiar man walked down the aisle toward the front of the bus. I knew this guy. Clyde. His name was Clyde.

Didn’t I just talk to him on the phone? Did it matter? He must have been on his way to find me during our conversation. He was tracking me.

“Track away, Clyde!” I said in a cheerful voice.

Bang. The woman bopped me again in the head.

I ripped the cane from the woman’s hands, but as I did, the trolley turned toward the curb. When I tried to right it, I got a look out the window, just in time to see Kelly, as the trolley smashed straight into her, and hit a snowbank.

20

KELLY

Well, this vision had come true sooner than I’d expected—and sooner than I’d hoped.

Then again, if one knows one is going to be hit by a bus in the future, perhaps it’s better to get it over with.

Pain filled my body, radiating outward from my torso. I’d broken a rib or several. Xavier sat in the driver’s seat of the bus, looking dazed. The folks in the back also looked dazed, but they seemed all right. Several of them had their phones out and were taking pictures of me, Xavier, and each other. The ones who weren’t holding their phones were