Old Habits

Conor: Ding Dong

Conor

We left the hayloft the moment we heard the screams. But by the time we made it back to the house, we saw Jackson on the porch, a bloody body over one shoulder. He had burns and scratches on his face and blood all over his clothes, but gave us a grin.

"The wicked witch is dead," he said. "Ding dong indeed."

"Do you need help?"

"I need a place for some bodies," he admitted. "That local law enforcement isn't going to find."

"We have a backhoe," I offered. "Um, I don't know how to drive it though."

"We can put them with Nolan," Tish told him.

"Do we actually know where your pack ended up?" Jackson questioned.

"Yeah. I don't know how, but I think they knew that Helen was coming," she explained. "We won't be able to get there until tonight; too much sun."

"Well, Mike seems to be fine in the sunlight," he remarked. "I assume he drank someone's blood."

"We grabbed some to bring up to the house, but Mike drank it so it didn't smell," I explained. "There's more, I guess."

Jackson wrinkled his nose. "I think we might need the day," he said. "I don't think Stefa's planning on moving ever again, and I'm going to need time to convince her."

"What happened?" Mike questioned.

"Helen started to kill me and Stefa persuaded her not to," Jackson told him. "Like, it was amazing. I don't think Helen knew what hit her. Oh, Conor, does someone here have clothes I'd fit in? I have officially run out of non bloody or torn clothes."

"Probably Daria or Grant," Tish said. "Or Katie, if he wants to wear a sundress."

"Is that a challenge? I'd look cute in a sundress," Jackson announced. "Man, I did not think I was going to make it to the end of today." He sighed. "Yeah, to hell with it. Conor, can you get me someone's blood? I really don't want to get any more burned than I already am."

I nodded, heading down to the shop. It was so strange to be here without my pack. I had gotten used to someone being around all the time, whether Katie and Brian teasing each other, or Aidan perched up with Grant in the hayloft, Daria playing games with Susie Lynn or Keith working on a new project wherever there was space. I grabbed two bags of blood, and two of Katie's sundresses, making note that I would have to apologize for their use once I saw her again.

"Too bad we can't just chop her up and plant her in the garden; make something useful come out of her death," Tish complained as she and Mike passed me, carrying Helen's corpse. "But I'd hate to think of what she'd do to the plants."

"Vampire corpses are not good fertilizer," Mike agreed.

I rolled my eyes and got back to the house. Stefa was still on the couch, her arm wrapped around her knees. Jackson sounded like he was on the front porch now. The living room had a couple things broken, a picture frame had fallen off the wall. Blood was seeping into the carpet; that would need to be cleaned up as soon as the bodies were dealt with.

"Hey," I said, holding the blood for Stefa. "Here; for the sunlight. Do you want me to heat it up?"

"I don't...I don't care." she whispered.

I held the bag against my skin and ripped it open for her.

"Like old times," I joked. "Who knew that they would be simpler times?"

"Who knew," she repeated hollowly, taking the blood from me.

"I brought a dress, I'll leave it on the linen closet door if you want to change," I told her. "You and Jackson can match."