North's gray eyes flickered. "Credit card info, Sherlock." She tapped the register screen. "As for the woods comment, just some local folklore. I tell that to all the tourists and noobie newcomers."

  "Right." I felt heat creep up my neck.

  "Though if I'm being honest," she leaned forward batting her dark lashes, "vampire isn't the worst pickup line I've heard. Last week a guy asked if I was a fallen angel because I clearly fell from heaven and landed in the frozen foods section."

  "That's terrible."

  "Uh-huh." She pulled out a pen, scribbling something on the back of my receipt. "But you’re… interesting. Here’s my number."

  I glanced down at the numbers she'd written. Her handwriting was sharp, angular, swirly, like a Gothic script compressed into digits.

  "In case you need recommendations for mutt-friendly hiking trails," she said with a half-smirk.

  Another shopper approached the checkout line and I departed quickly.

  The Cherokee sat where I'd left it. I didn’t notice the resident cryptid at the front. I climbed into the jeep, discovering her sprawled across the back seat, crouched low.

  "Took you long enough," she mumbled as I loaded the groceries.

  "Made a vampire friend." I said.

  “Say what?” Her ears perked up.

  “Goth babe at the checkout gave me her phone number.”

  The silver, glowing eyes dug into my face like sharp rapiers.

  “what”

  “She offered me to join her vampire commune,” I grinned, waving the receipt in front of Shady’s face. “I’m considering it.”

  “...”

  "Why not? Immortality, enhanced strength, no more worrying about student loans..." I started the engine, enjoying the way her hackles rose. "Plus she's cute. No pointy claws or antlers that could accidentally poke out an eye.”

  “I will poke out your eye on purpose,” she growled. “Drive. My ice cream's melting."

  Messing with a jealous cryptid was probably a terrible idea, but it was the most fun I’d had since inheriting the damned cryptid-haunted mansion.

  “Don’t sulk so hard, princess,” I said, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “Gotta step up your game if you’re worried about a checkout chick stealing my heart.”

  “Steal your heart?” Shady snorted. “Blood pact, remember? I don’t need to steal shit. You’re already mine. Permanently. Fo-re-vah.”

  She laughed, sounding a bit hollow for some reason.

  “Uh-huh,” I glanced at the mirror again in a double-take. The thing in the mirror decidedly wasn’t a black canine, nearly making me careen off the road. “Wait a minute. You’re not a dog. Is this what you meant ‘running outta juice?’ Your dog appearance is finite then?”

  “Ye,” she let out.

  “Are vampires real?”

  “Probably.”

  “Probably?”

  “Ye.”

  “Is the blood pact actually enforcing anything?”

  “Maybe it is, maybe it ain’t. I’m not a pact scientist.”

  “Are you some kind of a cryptid airhead blonde or is there some kind of blood pact magic preventing you from giving me straight answers?”

  “Mmmm… let’s go with… both.”

  “So you admit that you’re stupid?”

  "I admit nothing," Shady huffed, her reflection in the mirror shifting like a glitched video feed for a split second between dog and antlered bog creature. "I'm selectively informative. It's different."

  "That's just stupid with extra steps."

  She leaned forward between the seats, her breath smelling of McDouglass sauce, pine needles and storm clouds. "You know what's stupid? Getting a vampire's number when you already have a perfectly good cryptid at home."

  "You're not a pet, Shady."

  "Exactly! I'm premium companionship. That checkout girl is probably just a basic vampire thrall, if she's even that. Probably wears too much eyeliner and listens to My Chemical Romance."

  I navigated the winding road back up the mountain, the Cherokee's headlights cutting through patches of fog that clung to the asphalt like ghostly fingers. The groceries shifted in the back, ice cream probably slowly turning to soup.

  "You're jealous," I observed.

  "Am not."

  "You literally threatened to poke my eye out."

  "That's not jealousy, that's proactive kobold management. Sides, vampires are terrible partners. All that 'I vant to suck your blood' nonsense. Very one-note. I, on the other hand, offer variety. Jokes. Mystery. Antlers."

  "So far the only thing you’ve given me is physical damage and credit card debt."

  "Character-building physical damage and debt!"

  The mansion loomed ahead, its Gothic Revival excess somehow more welcoming than when I'd first arrived. Maybe it was the company. Even if that company was currently sulking in my backseat like an overgrown teenager.

  "Help me with the groceries?" I asked, pulling into the driveway.

  "Can't. I'm too stupid, remember?"

  "Shady."

  “My claws are too big and your inferior bags are made of weak ass plastic. They’ll get sliced right through. I don’t want to lick my ice cream off the ground. That’s unsanitary.”

  “I should buy a file and file your claws down.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “What? If you file down my claws, how am I gonna protect you from grabby vampires?”

  “You’ll still have those big sharp teeths. Just bite their heads off. Plus the claws on your feets. Kick them with those. I’m not having you be a useless leech who can’t carry groceries or take out garbage ‘cus your claws are too sharp for basic household duties.”

  “Household duties like cooking and cleaning shit are your job as a man, Ashy!”

  “Pfff. What’s your duty? To look nice on the couch? Like a big fat fuzzy black cat who takes up space?”

  “What? I’m great to look at, not just nice! I'm a far better investment than some theoretical vampire girlfriend!”

  "North isn't my girlfriend. She just gave me her number."

  "North? Her name is North?" Shady cackled. "What's her last name, West? Does she have siblings named after the other cardinal directions?"

  "You're literally named Starshade. I don’t think that you have a right to make fun of other people's names.”

  “My nickname has gravitas. North sounds like someone's GPS gave up halfway through giving directions."

  “Nickname?”

  “Ye. Auntie Evely came up with it. Starshade.”

  “Is she a Wendigo too?”

  “Ye.”

  So, unless she just lied to me, Shady was indeed a Wendigo and had a Wendigo aunt. I mentally noted, keeping my background speculation behind a curtain of white noise.

  “What’s your real name then?” I asked.

  “That’s on a need-to-know basis.” She tutted.

  We bantered all the way into the house and I noted that I ended up carrying all of the groceries.

  “Damn you lazy cryptid,” I slammed the bags onto the chipped marble counter. “At least help put stuff away.”

  “Why don’t you call your vampire girlfriend and ask her to put stuff away?”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Go ahead. Oh wait. I have your phone. Too bad, so sad.” She wiggled my tablet at me, holding it with her tail. Then she exhumed the ice cream from the bag and grabbed a large spoon, not bothering with a bowl.

  “Is this how you always eat? McDouglass's shakes, burgers and ice cream? How are you not more round?”

  “I’m round in all the right places.” She presented her ample fuzzy chest to me. “See?”

  “Put on a god damned shirt and stop jiggling your tits at me.”

  “Human shirts don’t fit over antlers.”

  “What about a sweater that zips up?”

  “You’ll have to buy me one of those then. Your puny sweater won't be able to contain my juicy curves.”

  “I’m taking you to SecondHandville.”

  “Aight.”

  The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed three times. Afternoon already. Time moved strangely with Shady around, the hours compressed and expanded like breathing.

  "I’d like to hear some sort of a plan," I said, throwing the fridge open to deposit things in.

  “Eh?” She stabbed the spoon deeper into the ice cream container.

  "You planning to hide under my bed again? Set up residence in the attic? Haunt my shower indefinitely?"

  "I might stick around… till you expire from old age." She licked the spoon clean with a long ass tongue. "Keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't go running off with any vampires. Standard blood pact maintenance."

  “I see.”

  “Want to watch something? I noticed you have one of those ancient DVD players.”

  "Did you go through all the stuff here while I was sleeping?"

  "Only the interesting bits. Your movie collection is severely lacking in monster representation, by the way. Like why do you need the entire Mythbusters collection?"

  "Don't judge the Mythbusters."

  "I'm not judging. I'm just saying a little variety wouldn't kill you. Maybe something with actual myths that need busting? Like that whole 'vampires can't enter without permission' thing. Total bull, by the way.”

  “Do you or do you not have knowledge on vampires?”

  “I know about vampires who live… uhh… elsewhere. I don’t know shit about local vampires or whatever. I only visited this place on my summer vacays.”

  “So you are only aware of vamps in Omnithornia?”

  “Ya. Also, stop saying that word.”

  “Why? Is it cus’ lawn gnome lawyers are going to come and chop me up if I do? Is it a place-that-must-not-be-named?”

  “Probably. You should stop saying it just in case.”

  We migrated to what Grandpa had generously called the entertainment room. Really just a den with a TV from the early 2000s and a couch that had seen better decades. Shady sprawled across it immediately, taking up approximately 90% of the available space, snacking on her ice cream.

  "Scoot," I said, after fiddling with the DVD player.

  "Can't. Dis couch is human sized and cryptid spreadin’ is a medical condition."

  “I’m sitting on you then.”

  “Aight.”

  I plopped down directly on her stomach. The impact momentarily felt like landing on a heated, fuzzy waterbed. I steadied myself with my hands and then realized what I was touching.

  “Sorry.” I rapidly lifted my hand away, awaiting possible execution.

  None came. Shady seemed preoccupied with the ice cream and playing candy crash on my tablet.

  “Comfortable?” she asked, lifting her big, glowing eyes up at me.

  “Sure. What are we watching?"

  "Something with explosions. And minimal romantic subplots that might give you ideas about vampires."

  Her tail snaked around my waist like a fuzzy seatbelt, ostensibly to keep me from sliding off but more likely to establish some kind of possessive cryptid claim.

  “Mythbusters have explosions.”

  “No. Don't you have like… normal movies?”

  “Like what?”

  “I dunno. Something with monsters? It amuses me how humans portray us.”

  I got off her to check what I even had in the box.

  “How about… Jaws?” I dug through my collection.

  “Aight.”

  She fell silent while I dug through the DVD box.

  "So," I said, "blood pacts."

  "What about them?"

  "Do they come with an instruction manual? Terms and conditions? A number to call if you're experiencing unwanted side effects?"

  “Hrmm. Not really. What side effects are you experiencing?”

  "So far? One clingy cryptid, occasional bruising, and the threat of a lifetime supply of supernatural shenanigans.”

  “I'm not clingy.”

  I returned to sit on her and was instantly smothered with a fluffy tail.

  “Your tail keeps wrapping around me like some kind of a python.”

  The tail in question tightened.

  “Can I trade you in for a less demanding model? One who uses less hot water? Maybe something in a nice poltergeist? They just move furniture around, right?" I asked.

  "No refunds, trades or exchanges. First the vampire, now you want a poltergeist?" She pointed the spoon at me. "Ashy, you wound me. Next you'll be browsing for djinn lamps on Craigslist."

  "Are those a thing?"

  "Probably a thing somewhere."

  “Can I find one and rub it and then wish for you to give me straight answers?”

  “Good luck.”

  “Are you a dog in reflections yet?” I looked for a mirror nearby to check.

  “Nah. It's an effort to maintain holofractal glamour all day and your food while being packed with sugar is horrendously lacking in magical sustenance. You try projecting a completely different form all day long."

  "What about just being yourself?” I joked.

  "Bein’ 'myself' tends to cause car accidents and screaming." She chewed on the spoon like a cigar. "Your dumb species doesn't handle deviations well."

  "My species?" I raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure you've been human-adjacent long enough to count as honorary Homo sapiens."

  I pressed play on the remote.

  "Hey Ash?" she said quietly as the movie began.

  "Yeah?"

  "Thanks. For not... you know. Calling your therapist. Or the FBI."

  "The thought crossed my mind."

  "But?"

  "But you are holding my phone hostage. Also, who would eat all my food and critique my DVD collection?"

  "Your vampire girlfriend, probably."

  “Wow, so salty. Am I not allowed to date supernatural creatures without giant antlers now?”

  “Not without approval of your liege.”

  “So there's a chance.”

  “No. I need you to be on the ball at all times. No dating around.”

  “Cus you are such a handful?”

  “Mhmm.”

  I wondered what Grandpa Archie would think if he saw me on his couch sitting atop an antlered monstrosity. Probably laugh, the old bastard. He'd always said the house needed more life in it.

  Though I'm pretty sure he meant regular life. Not whatever runaway SCP classification Shady fell under.