© 2026, Vampires Love Garlic by Ashley Chapman

20

Spilling the Tea

Heather

I spend the next two hours in a sort of funk.

Honesty.

My parents and my grandparents always taught me to be honest. That it was a lie to keep a secret. I’m torn as I finish my shift and join Narcissa outside. I thought my liking for McKenzie was best kept quiet, to keep others from hurting, but Narcissa’s truth is far more painful. I am flattered that she trusted me with her news, but I don’t know what to do with it.

She brings me to a seafood restaurant on the river for lunch. We both gaze out at the river as we wait for our food, quiet, each of us waiting for the other to speak.

“Vampires aren’t supposed to marry humans,” Narcissa says, breaking the silence. “Humans are considered low, unsavory even. That’s why you were treated cruelly at McKenzie’s business meeting. You weren’t considered good enough to even eat with them. You were only acceptable as the help.”

She taps her nails on the table, continuing to stare at the water.

“I met Robbie a year ago. He’s everything I never knew I wanted.”

She pulls out her phone and opens it, showing me a picture of a handsome man with short, somewhat spiked gray hair, a gray beard and mustache, and sparkling eyes. He is muscular and tan. Narcissa smiles and runs her fingertip down his cheek.

“He’s a dork,” she says lovingly. “I tried to stay away from him at first, but he pulled me in with his football parties. He has a boat. He took me out on it, and I fell in love.” She sits back and looks at me for the first time since our server left. “I didn’t want to. If my parents knew about it, they’d be heartbroken.”

“This must be very difficult for you,” I say, wanting to let her talk.

“In some ways, yes. McKenzie deserves better. He’s everything good and honorable. He doesn’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry him, but he’ll stay the course to protect both our reputations.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m not entirely sure yet.” She laughs. “I do have a flair for drama. I’ll figure out something spectacular that will protect McKenzie. That’s enough about me, though. Let’s talk about the engagement party. I would really like you to be there. You’ve transformed the basement, and I’ve seen your menu suggestions. You’re amazing at putting catering and parties together. Do you realize that?”

“I enjoy anything involving history,” I say with a shrug.

“You don’t want to be there because of McKenzie, right?”

“Narcissa, I like him more than I should. I don’t know what plans you have, but everything you just told me lets me know I need to stay away.” I can feel my heart aching, but I continue. “I don’t want to damage his relationship with his family or his standing with the other vampires. I don’t want to jeopardize anything.”

“That’s sweet.”

She reaches out and squeezes my hand.

“McKenzie won’t do anything to hurt vampire tradition. That doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy time with you. He could have done more than hover at your neck last night. He didn’t. It’s okay if you care for him. It’s okay if he cares for you. He won’t hurt his standing over you, but you should still come to the engagement party. I think McKenzie thinks of you as a friend. Please don’t surrender that friendship over me.”

“I don’t know what to do.” I watch a flock of seagulls soar past.

“That’s okay. I don’t know yet, either.”

Our food arrives. We eat in silence, both thinking. Finally, wanting to break the silence, I talk.

“So…what does a vampire bite feel like? Is it erotic, like the movies make it seem?”

Narcissa laughs, a light, airy sound that breaks the tension.

“How many vampire movies have you seen?” She giggles.

“Too many.”

“I can assure you, if McKenzie bit you, it would feel very, very good.”

I blush, and she grins.

“A vampire bite feels horrible if it’s forced or given by someone you don’t like. At the end of the day, we’re just enormous parasites.” She cuts into her salmon, a smile tugging at her lips. “Humongous mosquitoes. We need blood, and if we can’t get it any other way, we’ll take it from humans. That’s super outdated, and we have enough other ways to get blood, but we still savor fresh blood every now and then. McKenzie struggles with it more than most.”

“He told me he has a disorder,” I say with a nod.

“He calls it an addiction, but really it’s a medical issue. He hates it enough to degrade it. McKenzie drinks a larger amount of blood wine than most. We’re developing a pill that vampires can take that works as a blood supplement and works faster than liquid. My dad’s one of the major specialists, and McKenzie’s one of the top benefactors. He’s donated more money than I can keep track of. Back to that bite, though.”

She puts a forkful of salmon in her mouth and chews.

“Vampires have had to suck blood for centuries to survive. We didn’t always have it in wine or pill form. It was imperative that we be able to feed without raising alarms. When we bite, our fangs secrete a sort of toxin. I won’t call it venom. That sounds like poison. It calms any victim that willingly chose to be a host. For someone who is romantically drawn to the vampire, the toxin does more than soothe. That’s where your fiction comes in.”

I think back about when I cut myself in McKenzie’s kitchen.

There had been blood everywhere.

McKenzie could have bled me dry. With his disorder, it must have been painful for him to stop when he did. I hadn’t been a willing victim when he dug his teeth in, but I think I had been in shock enough not to feel it.

I wonder what it would have felt like if I had let him bite me last night.

My overly active imagination is going somewhere it shouldn’t be again. I can remember his breath washing over my skin, making goosebumps rise, making my breathing catch. If he had leaned just an inch or two further, just a little closer, his lips would have brushed against my neck.

“It’s a pretty thought, isn’t it?” Narcissa asks, raising a glass of water to her lips with a knowing smile. “I know exactly what you’re thinking.” She cuts another piece of salmon. “I understand why you don’t want to go to the engagement party, but regardless of what happens with me and McKenzie, or with me and Robbie, I think you would have a great time. I know you’ll be serving, but I want you to have fun, too. You’ve set up a makeshift speakeasy in what was once a real speakeasy. We’ll be learning real flapper dances.”

“Even if you weren’t with McKenzie, I’m human.”

“And that’s something that McKenzie will have to think about, if he ever pulls his head out of his traditional butt. Now, let’s talk about the party. I saw some beautiful dresses in the store window yesterday, so I think we should start at ‘Ellen’s.’ I think we’ll find the costumes we need there. I didn’t get a good look at the shoes, though.”

“I can’t wear heels.”

I sigh. It’s one of the more frustrating things about myself. I can wear contacts, but they dry my eyes out. I can wear heels, but only for about five minutes before my feet can’t handle them anymore.

“I wish I could,” I add. “I love how they make women’s legs look. They make me feel feminine and pretty, but my feet have trouble with them.”

“If you’re using your feet as an excuse to get out of this party, it isn’t going to work. Wear whatever you’d like. Go barefoot.”

The next three hours pass with fun and wonder. Narcissa and I find the perfect dresses in “Ellen’s.” We walk alongside the river eating ice cream and talking about California, traveling, and history.

As the afternoon grows later, we part ways.

I’m walking to my parking garage when I spot Homeless Joe sitting on a bench, crafting gorgeous origami creations from pieces of newspaper.

Joe is almost as much a staple of Savannah as pralines and pirates. He’s close to eighty years old, has a beard white as snow and deep brown eyes that sparkle whenever they see me. He greets me with a friendly “Howdy-do Miss Heather” and holds out a paper horse.

“Joe!” I exclaim, taking the delicate animal. “This is beautiful! You’ve learned a new one!”

“Always learning something new, girl,” he says with a smile.

He’s missing several teeth, but the expression is still bright and cheerful.

“I don’t have a lot of cash today,” I apologize, holding out a few dollar bills. “But hopefully you can get yourself something nice for dinner. It’s starting to get really cold at night. Do you have a place to stay?”

“I find shelter,” he says with a nod. “Sometimes sleep under the walkways on East Bay. Smells like pot, but it’s warmer than out here.”

“Okay. Well, you be careful.”

“Always am, baby. You take care.”

I smile and find my way to my car, glad to have had a nice afternoon spent with friends.