© 2026, Vampires Love Garlic by Ashley Chapman. All rights reserved.

22

Misty Nights on Jones

Heather

I swear, if McKenzie watches The Legend of Bagger Vance and pulls any of Junuh’s teasing lines on me, I’m going to die. I shouldn’t have told him a thing about that movie. After the teasing he gave me a couple of nights ago, he’s bound to look up that scene just to make me blush. And he’ll succeed.

It’s the day before the engagement party, and I’ve managed to steal a few minutes for myself.

Jones Street is one of my favorite places in Savannah. The houses are gorgeous. There are wrought iron gates and hidden gardens, exquisite trellises, and stunning stained glass windows in front doors. Gas lanterns glow from almost every house, casting a romantic shine through the foggy darkness. It isn’t late yet, but since it’s fall, the sun’s already setting, leaving a misty orange haze over everything.

I’m trying to relax, but it’s hard.

The engagement party is tomorrow, and I’m doing my best not to tick off a mental list of everything I have yet to do. I’ve already picked up the flowers, bought ice, and prepared everything I needed in McKenzie’s house. The ballroom is stunning, and everything is laid out just the way it should be. The party will be glorious. McKenzie and Narcissa will be the talk of the town for weeks. Long after I’ve stopped going to the house. Long after I’ve distanced myself from McKenzie.

I shouldn’t be thinking about McKenzie, or the couch, or the feel of his breath on my neck.

I shouldn’t be thinking about McKenzie at all.

This isn’t a celebrity crush. The way I feel about him is much deeper, and it’s frightening. I wish I could talk with Grandpa about all this. He’d know just what to say. He’d tease me about how handsome McKenzie is, and then he’d listen. That’s all. He’d just listen. He’d hear me tell him that I think I’m falling in love with someone else’s fiancé. He’d hear my heart, how upset I am that I even entertain any sort of romantic thoughts about a man who can’t be the one for me. He’d embrace me in that bear hug of his, letting me smell his shaving cream and the chocolates he couldn’t seem to resist, and then I would feel better.

I wouldn’t be thinking about green eyes, blond hair, a wicked dimple, another man’s embrace, another man’s kiss…

“Oh, don’t go. It’s not that late!”

I hear a young woman pleading between giggles, her voice breathy. One of the iron gates to my left opens, and I see a man stepping out, his back turned toward me. Layered brown hair falls to just above his shoulders, brushing his pristine charcoal suit. He turns his head slightly as he lights a cigarette, and I get the perfect profile of Derrick.

I didn’t like him at McKenzie’s meeting, and he still makes me uncomfortable.

He closes the iron gate, takes a drag, and lets the smoke puff out from his lips. He breathes in, inhaling the smoke, and turns his head toward me.

“Good evening,” he says, his dark eyes sparkling. “Aren’t you McKenzie’s little chef?”

“It’s Heather,” I say, tugging my coat in tightly around me.

“Walking around alone when it’s getting dark?”

“I like walking. It clears my head.”

“Do let me accompany you. You shouldn’t be walking by yourself,” Derrick says, moving into place next to me.

“I feel perfectly safe,” I stammer as he matches my stride.

Well, I did until he saw me.

“It wouldn’t be polite to let a young woman wander around in the dark by herself,” he says, taking another drag. There’s a small scarlet drop at the corner of his lips, slowly trickling down his chin, leaving a stain. It’s such a deep, dark red, and I can’t seem to look away.

Blood. It looks like blood.

He’s a vampire. He must be.

“You have a little something on your chin,” I stutter.

He wipes the red away with his thumb then sucks it off his finger. He hums with pleasure and then drops his cigarette on the pavement and snuffs it out with his shoe.

“You seemed right at home in Mac’s kitchen,” Derrick says, putting his hands in his pockets. “He doesn’t usually let people like you in his house.”

“People like me?”

I’m confused. What is that supposed to mean?

“You mean human?”

“Ah. So you know our little secret. Someone was naughty and let slip that there are vampires in Savannah.” Derrick tsks. “That’s a shame. And here I thought McKenzie followed all the rules to the letter. Just another little blot on his perfect record, I suppose.” He looks at me with interest. “You must be something really special, for him to let you into his world.”

“He needed help getting things together for your meeting. I’m comfortable in the kitchen,” I say with a shrug. “I like to cook. Do you live around here?” I look at the exquisite houses, feeling a twinge of envy.

“Not yet, but I’m considering it.”

I don’t know why that bothers me. I love this city. I want everyone to love this city. But there’s something very unsettling about Derrick. I don’t like how casually he’s fallen into place beside me. I don’t like that he’s even interested in walking with me.

I love Savannah like this. I love how she feels misty and romantic at night, but tonight, with Derrick here, she just feels spooky.

“What makes you want to stay?” I ask, dreading the answer.

“The nightlife.”

“Oh?”

“The nightclubs are something else. And the women…” He chuckles and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. He’s treating them like some sort of candy. Disposable and inexpensive.

“I know it’s fall, and it’s cold and sometimes wet.” He lights the cigarette. “But the amount of bachelorette parties and sorority huddles I’ve seen is something else.” He bites the end of the cigarette, and red-colored tobacco catches at the corner of his lip. “I think I can correctly assume you’ve learned a little bit about McKenzie’s disorder from the other night.” He looks at my bandaged hand and smirks. “He’s not the only one with a disorder.”

“You have the same one?”

I don’t know why he’s talking with me. Maybe he just wants company. That’s ridiculous. He already had someone begging him to stay just minutes ago.

“Different.” He takes a drag and releases a smoke ring. “Mac just has an extra need for blood if someone’s cut. Most of us have great self-control if a human decides to start bleeding. Mac struggles with restraint. It’s physically harder for him to avoid going after someone if they’re bleeding. His body craves them in a way most vampires don’t struggle with.”

He hums and takes another drag.

“His mother, Veronica, instilled in him a morality that borders on holier-than-thou. If Mac scents blood, he fights every instinct to avoid taking it. Drowns himself in hard blood-liquor. Goes for a run. Works out. Buries himself in business.”

He’s studying my face like he’s looking for something. I meet his gaze, unflinching.

“Good for Veronica,” I manage.

“Yes.”

He smiles and continues.

“I have a never-ending craving for blood. Mac can call his disorder an addiction, but he doesn’t understand the meaning of the word. I can’t be satisfied with injections or infusions. I have to go straight to the source, blood from the vein. If I don’t have it when my body craves it, it’s like hell on earth. Mac’s been trying to find ways to help, funding Dr. Kline and his various blood experiments. I’ve been informed that, for me, it’s just a matter of working through the pain and letting it pass naturally.” He sneers. “McKenzie looks at my addiction as a flaw in my personality. He caught me drinking from a woman once, her moaning in pleasure, mind you, and has been disgusted ever since.”

“It sounds to me like he’s trying to help you.”

“And why would he?” Derrick scoffs. “To be the dutiful son, I suppose? We share the same father. Maybe he feels compelled to ‘help’ me because he’s the firstborn. No, I think he’s trying to fix me because he sees me as an imperfection.” He grins, every fang flashing. “I like what I am.”

The temperature just chilled by about ten degrees.

I don’t know anything about McKenzie’s family. He never shared, I never asked, and I was alright with that. I figured it wasn’t my business. I’m not marrying him, so his bloodlines aren’t important to me. What is genuinely frightening me now is the way Derrick has lowered his voice, almost into a croon. It’s the way his dark eyes are sparkling, the way he’s looking at me like I’d be a tasty morsel to devour.

“I enjoy drinking from people,” he says coolly. “There’s nothing like dragging blood from a willing victim, her cries soft, her body warm and welcoming, both of you in a state of euphoria. Why would I ever look at that as something wrong?”

“This is a really strange conversation,” I whisper, not liking the imagery he’s trying to put in my head. “Why are you telling me any of this?”

“Humans are disposable, Heather,” he states, blowing another ring. “You’re nothing but a pile of bones with some flesh thrown on. I’m just talking because I’m being conversational. There aren’t a whole lot of humans I can talk vampires with, and I’m enjoying your reactions. You have a wide-eyed look, like something I’ve just said is vulgar in the worst of ways.” He laughs and bops my chin with his knuckles. “Really, I just wonder what the hell McKenzie sees in you. He’s never had humans work in his house before. He prefers to avoid them entirely if he can, just to keep his so-called ‘disorder’ at bay. He’d feel much better if he’d just indulge it. I’m under the assumption that he actually has.”

He drops the second cigarette, snuffs it with his shoe, and takes hold of my chin.

“Look at you. Little scars on your face, ridiculous color in your hair. And yet somehow you made him lose control. That’s intriguing, Human. If he’s allowed to drink from you, if it isn’t morally wrong for him to take from you, then why shouldn’t I? Only the best for McKenzie, is it?”

“Are you… are you rating my blood?”

I’m going to be sick. His words are venom, shooting straight into my stomach. He sees me as nothing but a body, one that McKenzie took from, one that should be shared.

“What is it about you that finally made my brother snap? You needn’t deny it. I was close enough to know what happened. Why would he look at a scrawny bag of bones like you and indulge?”

He’s closing in on me. My back collides with a black iron fence, the cool metal digging into my spine. His hand is still at my chin. I shove him in the chest, trying to get him away, to give myself some space, but he won’t move. He catches both hands, and for a few seconds, there’s a scuffle. He somehow manages to get his leg between both of mine, and he frees my right hand only long enough to bring it to his mouth.

“What sort of vintage are you to make Mac lose himself?” he smirks and then takes the tip of my finger into his mouth and bites.

His eyes turn red, like McKenzie’s were when he lost control. He’s making obscene humming sounds in the back of his throat as he swallows one drop after the next. I can feel his tongue coiling around my finger, wrapping like a slippery snake, and I don’t believe I’ve ever felt more violated in my life. I try to fight again, but he only pins me harder, shaking his head at me and smirking as my cut begins to sting.

“Let me go,” I whisper, true panic setting in. If he’s comfortable taking blood without my permission, indeed, against my permission, then there isn’t anything he isn’t comfortable with.

He smirks as tears drip down my cheeks.

“Don’t cry, little human,” he croons, releasing my finger with a disgusting pop. “That’s all I needed. For now. No wonder he couldn’t resist. You taste like sugar. You haven’t been claimed by a vampire. There’s no venom running through your veins. Makes the experience of tasting you almost holy. You know that’s the only reason he’s keeping you around now, don’t you?”

He reaches up and collects one of my tears on his thumb.

“He’s had a sample, and now he wants more. Be careful, Sweetheart.”

He draws his thumb into his mouth, sucking my tear from his skin. His eyes roll back and he smiles, the grin of a fox cornering its prey.

“Mac only wants you around because you taste so delicious. Once he gets everything he wants, you’ll be nothing more than a walking corpse to him. No brain. No value. Used.”

He pats my cheek.

“I’ll leave you to yourself now, holy one. Best of luck with my brother.”

He walks away, swallowed by the mist.

And I crumple to the ground, no longer able to stand.