Work Text:
The laptop’s white light illuminates Colin Robinson’s pallor face as he scrolls aimlessly through eBay listings. “I’ve gotten really into online bidding recently,” he explains. “There’s this function on eBay where you can see what auctions are about to end soon. Then you can put your bid in at the last minute and crush the dreams of some unfortunate dweeb who’s trying to buy old Pokémon cards or used mascot costumes. See, here’s a listing for a realistic horse figurine: ‘Pretty Angelina Shetland Pony.’ That’s going for almost five-hundred big ones… not if I can do something about it…” Colin Robinson scrolls across the screen and decisively clicks the blue “Place Bid” button. He eases back in his office chair, which squeaks in protest. “All in a day’s work.”
As Guillermo dusts the grime off of the library shelves, he sneaks a side-eyed glance at Nandor, who is playing an elaborate card game by himself in the corner. Ever since the Wellness Center debacle, things have been tangibly tense between them, but Guillermo sure as hell isn’t going to let Nandor out of his sight again. Nandor seems resigned to Guillermo’s close watch despite his initial protest. Guillermo suspects Nandor secretly likes the attention.
“Whose bloody horse is outside?” Nadja demands as she storms into the library.
Nandor glances at Guillermo who shakes his head. It’s not his horse. The time Guillermo has ever seen a real horse was the one year his mom took him to the Macy’s Parade— and toddler Guillermo was more excited about the big Garfield balloon than the Clydesdales.
“There is a horse outside?” Nandor asks, clearly feigning disinterest. He slides a card across the table into the small pile he’s accruing.
“I’m sure it’s not—” Guillermo starts, but is interrupted by the door slamming open once more.
With a sharp creak, the door swings open revealing a harried Laszlo. “Who let a fucking horse into my vulva garden?”
“There is a horse outside?” Nandor repeats more urgently, his nails digging into the soft wood of the table.
“How about we all take a deep breath,” Guillermo suggests.
“It’s eating out my mother!” Laszlo shouts in distress.
Nadja gasps and clutches her chest. “Gizmo, this is an emergency.”
Guillermo glances at Nadja, whose hair is wild and unfurling from her coiffed horns. He looks at Laszlo who has dirt on his gardening trousers and a stray green sprig on his shoulder. Guillermo’s gaze lands on Nandor, his master, who is practically vibrating with excitement.
“There is a horse ? Outside?”
“Yes!” Nadja hisses, crossing the room to smack Nandor’s bicep. “Do I need to wash out your ears with the cotton stick? There is a horse in the topiary garden having a nice snack on Laszlo’s mother’s privates because some stupid idiot left their horse in our yard.”
“Well if it isn’t Nadja’s horse, and it isn’t Laszlo’s horse, and it isn’t Nandor’s horse… and it isn’t my horse…” Guillermo trails off as cold realization slides down his back like he’s stepped into an icy shower.
“Hey guys, what’s going on?” Colin Robinson asks, peeking his head through the doorway. “Did you forget to invite me to another house meeting?”
After Colin Robinson confesses to his eBay ventures and Nadja has properly lambasted him, Guillermo follows Nandor outside to find the horse. They start at Laszlo’s topiary garden, but besides a few evident missing patches of foliage genitalia, there is no horse in sight.
“In Al Quolanudar we had horses 16 hands high. They were majestic beasts and stellar warriors. Very nice and gentle too… they could be a shoulder to cry on if one of your wives said a mean thing to you,” Nandor offers. It’s the first thing he’s said to Guillermo all night, and even if it wasn’t directly to him, Guillermo knows an olive branch when he sees it.
“It sounds like horses were good friends to you.”
“Yes, I always felt most alive astride a muscular steed,” Nandor agrees. “I’m surprised this horse is so stealthy… Usually such grand creatures are hard to miss.”
But as soon as the pair turns the corner they see her.
Underneath a rusted trellis is a Shetland pony, no taller than three feet. She lazily chews at the overgrown ivy winding up the walls around her, no fucks to give. She has a fuzzy brown body and a flowing white-blonde mane that reminds Guillermo of the scene kids he envied in his teen years.
“Oh,” Nandor says under his breath. “It is a baby.”
Guillermo opens his mouth to argue that it’s probably just a pony, but he really doesn’t know enough about horses to be 100% confident about that. “I think Colin Robinson said her name is Pretty Angelina,” Guillermo says instead.
“Hello Pretty Angelina,” Nandor coos. He bends his knees to get down to her level as he approaches. “My name is Nandor and I’m going to be your new best friend.”
Guillermo holds his breath as his master, a fearsome, blood-sucking vampire, slowly approaches this pony with a hand outstretched like he’s reenacting The Creation of Adam . Pretty Angelina remains completely unruffled even when Nandor crouches down next to her. Ever so gently, Nandor places his hand on the pony’s nose. She keeps chewing.
“Aha! Guillermo look, we are bonding!” Nandor calls triumphantly.
“You look very cute— I mean cool. You look very cool, Master!”
As Nandor celebrates, Pretty Angelina takes interest in his hair and sniffs along the crown of his head. Nandor actually giggles, which makes Guillermo feel a lot of feelings that he immediately represses.
“She will grow into an excellent warrior!” Nandor announces as she bites and tugs at his hair. “She already— ow— she already is— ow— so strong!”
“Though she be but little she is fierce,” Colin Robinson says thoughtfully, making Guillermo nearly jump out of his skin.
“Where did you even come from?” Guillermo inquires, trying to take deep breaths to slow his frantic heartbeat.
“I’ve been here for the last five, maybe ten minutes.”
Pretty Angelina moves from chewing Nandor’s hair to his hands. “She must be teething!” he laughs. “When she grows up I will ride her across all of Staten Island and our enemies will quiver before us.”
“Who’s gonna tell him that’s as big as she’s gonna get?” Colin Robinson asks unhelpfully. Guillermo feels the violent urge he usually gets around Colin Robinson.
“It’ll break his heart,” Guillermo frowns.
Colin Robinson wiggles his eyebrows and Guillermo’s stomach sinks into his knees. He shouldn’t have said anything.
Colin Robinson cups his hands around his mouth for max volume. “Nandor, buddy, that’s a Shetland pony! She’s full-sized already.”
Nandor’s smile flickers. “She is not a baby horse?”
“No sir-ree,” Colin Robinson tuts. “Pretty Angelina is an adult Shetland pony.”
“Oh… that is not a problem. There were incredible archers in Al Quolanudar that rode atop smaller steeds. They were still very intimidating!”
At that, Nandor attempts to mount Pretty Angelina, but quickly finds that his legs are too long to sit comfortably on her back. He changes tactics and tries to keep his legs folded against Pretty Angelina’s flank, causing her to buck her back legs and squeal in revolt.
“I don’t think that’s going to work!” Colin Robinson heckles.
Guillermo hides his face in his hands as Nandor starts cursing. It’s going to be a long night.
Once Nandor heads back inside to sulk in his room, Guillermo heaves a large tome onto the fancy room table. It’s yellowed pages release a cloud of dust motes into his face. “I figure if anyone knows how to get rid of a horse, we’d find—” Guillermo coughs, holding his elbow to his mouth. “We’d find them—” Guillermo fully loses his composure as he descends into a fit of coughing. One of the camera crew offers him a water bottle, which he declines with a small shake of his head. “I figure if anyone knows how to get rid of a horse, we’d find them in here,” Guillermo concludes, voice pinched.
“You should take that creature to the glue factory!” Laszlo scoffs.
Guillermo sniffs. “I’m not taking her to the glue factory! …not right away at least. That will be a last resort.”
“Whatever, just make sure it doesn’t touch any more of my topiary.” Laszlo exits with a dramatic swish of his cape, sending more dust flying from the book. Guillermo tries to protect his face with his elbow, but he is rendered powerless against the centuries-old detritus and hurries away, hacking into his elbow.
Nandor smiles as the doorbell rings. “I have called upon The Guide to help us with Pretty Angelina,” he explains.
He opens the front door for The Guide, who is levitating in place, a dozen or so ravens flocking behind her. “I have been summoned!” she shrieks. Despite the clear skies, there is a distant clap of thunder.
“Very scary,” Nandor nods. “Please come in, we have much to discuss.”
They sit in the library so Nandor can explain the situation with minimal interruptions.
“After hearing your tale of unprecedented horse acquisition, I have come to a conclusion,” The Guide starts.
Nandor scoots forward in his seat, leaning forward in anticipation.
“I do not want the horse.”
Nandor crumples. First Pretty Angelina is a disappointment, now The Guide won’t even take her off of his hands.
“Do not look so forlorn, Nandor,” The Guide chides. “For I have developed an ingenious plan for ridding you of your horse problem.”
They find Guillermo in the fancy room, talking to a voice coming out of his pocket computer. Nandor never quite understood the rapid development of devices with screens.
“Can I help you, Master?” Guillermo inquires as he puts the hand-held rectangle down. The Guide nods at Nandor and shoves him forward
“Guillermo… I recognize that these last few weeks have been challenging, seeing that you essentially kidnapped me and took me away from my reformed-vampire human community. However, in the spirit of…” Nandor glances at The Guide, who mouths the next part of his scripted monologue encouragingly. “In the spirit of ‘relationship repair,’ I am giving you a gift.”
“I don’t want the horse.”
“That is very rude!” Nandor huffs. “She is a Shetland pony and her name is Pretty Angelina.”
“Fine, I don't want Pretty Angelina,” Guillermo huffs, rubbing his eyes.
“That’s too bad because she is a gift that I am giving to you!”
“Nandor—”
“No take-backsies!” Nandor whines.
“Listen, I know that this has been an… emotionally taxing night for you, but I think I’ve found a solution that will make everyone happy,” Guillermo placates. “I just got off the phone with a petting zoo. The owner knows Nadja. They’re gonna come by and take Pretty Angelina off of our hands.”
Nandor nods, eyes solemn and shoulders slumped. “I must go say my goodbyes then.”
In the wee hours of the morning, everyone gathers in the front of the house to greet Sawyer, the owner of Staten Island’s only night-time petting zoo. They have an easy-going attitude, but there is something supernatural about them that Guillermo can’t quite place. Sawyer nods respectfully at the vampires and lets Guillermo lead them to where Pretty Angelina is sleeping around the back.
“I mean we have your typical chupacabra, Jersey Devil, and bigfoot type creatures, but we never had any little horses before,” Sawyer explains as they appraise Pretty Angelina’s build. “I don’t think she’s really what we’re looking for.”
“Sawyer, my sweet little Sawyer,” Nadja wraps her arms around one of Sawyer’s and walks her hand up their chest. “Might I remind you of the little favor you owe me? For taking care of that pesky pixie problem for you.”
Sawyer snorts. “If anything, Miss Nadja, you owe me the favor for negotiating those pixies out of turning you into a snake.”
Nadja’s grip around their arm tightens to a vice and her fingernails dig into the thin fabric of their shirt. “Sawyer, I will rip your heart out of your chest and throw it down the sewage grate to let it rot with the piss and shit if you do not take this fucking pony to your petting zoo.”
“Okay, okay, loud and clear, I’ll take her off your hands!” Sawyer acquiesces, shaking Nadja off. She happily returns to Laszlo’s side.
Nandor pats Pretty Angelina’s nose one last time before Sawyer starts to take her away. As they usher Pretty Angelina into their trailer, Nandor shields his sniffles behind his hand.
Guillermo hesitantly puts an arm around Nandor in an attempt to comfort him. “ Are you crying, Master?”
“No, your little holy necklace must be burning me,” Nandor blubbers through obvious tears.
“Oh, sorry.” Guillermo tries to step away, but Nandor pulls him back closer so he can cry into his familiar’s shoulder. Hesitantly, Guillermo pats Nandor’s quaking back. “I know she wasn’t everything you hoped she would be, but it’s still hard to say goodbye. If it makes you feel better, we can always visit Pretty Angelina at Sawyer’s farm. Any time you want.”
“That would be very nice,” Nandor says, muffled. “Can we go tomorrow?”
“Of course, Master.”
“You have a good shoulder to cry on, Guillermo. I guess I didn’t need a horse for that after all.”
Warmth blooms in Guillermo’s chest and he holds Nandor a little tighter. “Guess not,” Guillermo agrees as he closes his eyes and gets lost in Nandor’s warm, comforting weight around him.
In the dark cell of his room, Colin Robinson is once again on his laptop. “After the whole Pretty Angelina problem, I’ve decided to move on from my eBay bidding era,” Colin Robinson notes as he right clicks and copies an image from Twitter. “NFTs are all the rage now. And no one rages more than the idiots buying NFTs.”