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The sound of heated arguing carries down a long hallway into the living room, and Bea sighs. “They’re at it again.”
“You’re taking up the whole cabinet with tea!” Alex accuses, gesticulating wildly to an open kitchen cupboard packed full of several rows of tins of different shapes and colors.
The camera pans to Henry, who stands a few feet away with his lips pulled into a tight line and his arms crossed over his chest, then cuts back to Alex.
“You can’t even drink it!”
“I can smell it,” Henry retorts, jutting his chin out slightly. “Or offer it to company. It’s only polite.”
“We don’t have company we’re not going to eat.”
“We do,” Henry huffs. Alex raises his eyebrows. “Occasionally. In any case, it’s polite to offer, regardless of what… becomes of them.”
Alex looks at the camera and gives an exaggerated eye roll before turning back to Henry and pointing an accusing finger at him. “You just want their blood to taste like Earl Grey.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Henry says loftily. “What do you care, anyway? It’s not like you have food to put in the cupboards.”
“Well, no,” Alex admits. “Nora does, though.”
Henry’s eyes flash triumphantly. “Nora said I could use the cabinet for my tea.”
“It’s the principle of the thing!” Alex tries, changing tacks. “I could store all kinds of things in there more useful than tea. Booze—”
“Which you can’t drink,” Henry interrupts.
“—magical artifacts. Weapons.”
“Why would you keep weapons in the kitchen?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Henry sighs and covers his face with a hand.
“It’s been 427 years,” June says matter-of-factly.
She and Bea are playing cards in the living room, which is haphazardly decorated with furniture that seems to span several centuries. June sits in an ornate, high-backed velvet chair with gilt carvings from the 1800s; Bea lounges in a mustard-colored armchair from the 1970s.
Bea nods. “Ever since Alex’s first bi-annual vampire orgy.” Her gaze flickers away from her cards and over to the camera. “Henry got flustered and snubbed him, you see.”
“If anyone knows how to hold onto a grudge, it’s Alex,” June sighs.
“They hardly spoke for the next two centuries.” Bea plays a card. “Then Pez suggested a change of scenery, and we all moved to Brooklyn.”
June smiles at her from across the table and plays her own card. “I’d kept in touch with Pez because—” She breaks off, her lips curving into a coy smile. “Well, we’d kept in touch, and I invited them all to live with us. It’s a big house, and we had plenty of space. Alex, of course, objected, but Nora and I overruled him. It’s technically Nora’s house anyway.”
“I buy and sell quite a few houses in the area,” Nora chimes in from the couch nearby, where she’s typing rapidly on a laptop. “Real estate is an excellent hobby for an energy vampire. Especially in New York State. Do you have any idea how much I can feed on at a typical closing? It’s a lot.” She doesn’t bother looking up, and the camera pans back to Bea and June.
“Henry didn’t protest, actually,” Bea offers as she plays another card. She looks up at June and a knowing look passes between them. June glances significantly at the camera.
“Now they’re just Like This.”
“Did you know he changes into a fruit bat?” Alex asks. He’s sitting haphazardly in the chair, one leg thrown over the arm.
From offscreen, Henry yells, “It’s a flying fox!”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Fruit. Bat,” he repeats disdainfully. “You know how menacing a fruit bat is? Not very. We’re supposed to drink blood. Princes of darkness and that shit. Stuff of fucking nightmares.” He huffs and folds his arms over his chest. “I care because we have a reputation to uphold. Fruit bats are too fucking cute. It’s annoying.”
“The flying fox is an aesthetic choice,” Henry says firmly as he uses a remote to navigate through Netflix very slowly. Eventually, he finds The Great British Baking Show and manages to put on an episode. “There are no rules about these things.”
Next to him on the couch, Pez tips his head thoughtfully. “He’s not wrong about the fruity part, though.”
Henry sighs. “Don’t encourage him.”
“Hmm?” Henry hums, distracted by the show. “Oh yes. I miss the food most of all. Cakes. Biscuits. Pastries. Nora showed me how to use the television device, though, so now I can watch this. Marvelous invention. I used to lurk outside bakeries, but the humans didn’t like that so much.”
“What’s he doing over there?” Bea says as the camera zooms across the street to where Alex appears to be lurking outside a neighbor’s house. She’s sitting in an armchair, plucking idly at a guitar. “Oh, Pez played a trick on him.”
“It wasn’t a trick,” Pez protests. He’s carefully painting his nails, which have been filed into sharp talons, a lurid pink. “I’m proving a point.”
“And what point would that be?”
“I told him that I’d heard an expert vampire hunter arrived in New York,” Pez admits. Bea clears her throat. “And that he was hunting Henry in particular.”
“Henry and I are pretty much vampire royalty,” Bea explains. “Descended from Dracula himself. Sometimes vampire hunters want to make a name for themselves. Once a descendant of Van Helsing tried to kill our brother.”
“Phillip is a wanker, though,” Pez mutters. Bea flicks a guitar pick at him and it hits him in the head. “Ow! What? He survived.”
“Regardless,” Bea says, sighing, “now Alex thinks our new neighbor is a vampire hunter, so he’s spying on him.”
Pez nods sagely. “He’ll deny it, but our dear Alexander gets very protective over Henry. Last month we bumped into a pack of werewolves, and he nearly tore the head off of one who decided Henry was too tall and tried to have a go at him.” The camera pans back to where Alex is climbing up the side of the building. “He’s like a tiny, tenacious guard dog when he gets like this.”
“If he hears you say that, he’ll tear your head off.”
“I’d like to see him try,” Pez says with a grin, swiping his sharp nails through the air.
Alex slips through the front door looking slightly bedraggled. His curls are in disarray and his hands are dirty. He startles when he sees the camera, immediately looking around like he’s been caught.
“Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything. He’s suspicious, is all, and if there’s a vampire hunter around, we all need to be prepared.” Alex looks out of the window back at the house across the street for a moment. “Do you know what his name is?” He leans in conspiratorially. “Fucking Hunter.”
“I still don’t see why you need us to come with you,” June says. Her long skirts swish softly as she strolls down the street arm-in-arm with Nora, who’s wearing jeans and a hoodie. Alex walks a couple of steps ahead of them, clearly on edge.
“She likes you better than me,” Alex argues. “Both of you.”
“That’s because she has taste,” Nora says, ignoring Alex’s scoff. “I can’t help that I’ve known Zahra since Salem. We go way back.”
“Which is why you’re here,” Alex says wearily, like it’s not the first time he’s said it. “To keep her in a good mood so she doesn’t hex me.”
“I only agreed because I want to know if she has any new crystals,” June puts in. “And maybe a little because you begged for our help in getting Zahra to make a protective amulet for Henry.”
Alex shoots a furtive glance at the camera and leans in close to her. “I did not beg,” he hisses.
June’s mouth twists into a smug smile as they walk down a path through an overgrown garden toward a small, cozy house that looks out of place in the middle of Brooklyn. Nora knocks on the front door, and a moment later a beautiful but severe-looking woman with long dark hair yanks it open. Her lips twitch into something almost approaching a smile at the sight of June and Nora, but then she scowls when she sees Alex.
“What do you want?” she demands.
“We thought we might come by for a visit,” June says lightly.
“And Alex needs your help,” Nora adds, ignoring Alex as he kicks her in the foot.
“Henry needs your help,” he corrects. “I’m just here on his behalf.”
“Which he doesn’t know about,” June puts in.
“Fuck, can’t a guy do something for his annoying roommate without it becoming a whole thing?”
Zahra cocks an eyebrow at the camera behind him. “What if I just invite them in and not you?” she asks Alex.
“C’mon, Z,” Alex whines.
“You know, the coven is always so confused about why I voluntarily associate with vampires,” Zahra sighs. “Usually I’m inclined to agree with them. But my husband has a soft spot for your little vampire prince, so I suppose you can all come in this time.”
“Wait, what husband?” Alex chokes out, but Zahra turns swiftly away, disappearing inside, and June and Nora push him through the door after her.
Fervent whispers filter out through a partially opened door in the vampire residence, and the camera approaches cautiously. Eventually, Alex comes into view through the gap, while the person he’s talking to is still obscured.
“You need to grow a fucking spine and just talk to him,” a female voice hisses. “I’m not running your errands for you.”
Alex huffs and looks up at the ceiling. He’s got something clutched in his hand; a leather cord hangs down toward the floor. “Look, if he knows it’s from me, he’s not going to wear it. He doesn’t even like me.”
Out of view, she makes a kind of strangled sound. “Satan save me from idiot boys! I don’t know what’s more tragic, that both of you are more than four hundred years old and still acting like children, or that neither of you have figured out why.”
Alex looks confused for a moment, but quickly shakes it off. “Please, June? I’ll owe you one.”
June snatches the item from his hand. “You already owe me a lot more than that,” she says, then storms out of the room. Alex turns, sees the camera, and scowls.
“He always does this,” June huffs, staring sideways away from the camera. “We spent the entirety of the 1920s and ‘30s as go-betweens for them because Henry got a familiar and Alex was jealous. Not that he would admit it, but anyone could see it.” She looks back at the camera. “He was pretty, that familiar. Big brown eyes, dark curls. Pity he disappeared one day.” She shrugs. “Just, poof. Gone.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alex says, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. “Did he have a familiar then? I don’t even remember. I don’t keep track of Henry’s things.”
“Hen-ry!” June sing-songs as she walks into the library where Henry is reading in a massive wing-backed armchair.
He looks up from his book and smiles as she sits down in the chair next to his. “Oh, hello, June. How are you doing today?”
“I’m good. Currently avoiding getting wrapped up in Pez’s latest attempts to get Nora to help him track down the Nigerian prince who sent him an electronic letter,” she tells him, and Henry nods solemnly. “Oh! Did I tell you I got a new book? It’s a biography of Jane Austen. I figured you might find it amusing.”
“Ah, Jane,” Henry sighs. “She was such a delight. Knew how to throw quite the party.”
“Yes, Henry was good friends with Jane Austen back in the day,” Bea confirms. “Near inseparable, those two. He denies that she based Mr. Darcy off him, but.” She pauses, her lips twisting as she gives a little shrug. “If you know, you know.”
Henry stares off across the room for a minute, a wistful expression on his face, before he turns back toward June. “Sorry, did you need me for something?”
“Not exactly,” she says.
June reaches into a deep pocket in her skirts and pulls out something small wrapped up in her fist, which she passes over to Henry. As he looks down at it, the camera zooms in to focus on the item cupped in his palm—a little pendant, carved with an abstract design and suspended by leather cords.
“It’s a protection amulet,” she explains. “To keep you safe.”
“Because of the vampire hunter,” Henry surmises. He doesn’t look particularly concerned about the prospect.
June smirks knowingly. “Yeah. Alex had Zahra make it for you.”
Henry’s head snaps up, his eyes wide as he looks at her. “Alex visited Zahra?” he asks. “For me?”
“Don’t tell him I told you it was him. He’s worried you won’t wear it.” June smooths her hands over her skirt. “You don’t actually have to if you don’t want. It’s not like he’ll know.”
“No, no,” Henry murmurs, staring down at the amulet in his hand. “I’ll wear it.”
“Hm?” Henry asks. He seems distracted. A bit of leather cord is visible peeking out around his collar. “Oh, yes. I’m aware that Pez made up the story about the hunter. It doesn’t really hurt anything to wear it though, does it?”
Alex dogs Henry’s steps, trying to keep up with his long strides as he walks purposefully down the hall, his long cloak flowing behind him.
“You can’t seriously be intending to go over there,” Alex says, a little stridently.
“I am,” Henry answers calmly. “I see no reason not to.”
“This is such an obvious trap! He wants your opinion on a rare book? Really? I’m not sure Hunter can even read.”
“It will be fine, Alex. I can handle myself against one puny human.” Henry glances over at the cameraman. “No offense.”
“Well, I’m going with you,” Alex says.
Henry stops abruptly at the front door and Alex almost runs into him. “That is completely unnecessary,” he says stiffly.
“Tough cookies, sweetheart. You’re not going over there alone.” Alex folds his arms over his chest, looking very determined.
“Fine,” Henry sighs. “I would appreciate it if you would refrain from overreacting at every perceived slight, though.”
“I always react exactly the correct amount, thank you very much,” Alex scoffs.
That apparently settled, Henry turns back to the front door and pulls it open. The camera follows the two vampires across the street to Hunter’s house, and Henry knocks on the door. A moment later, the door swings open to reveal a nondescript-looking white man wearing a polo shirt; he seems a little surprised to see two of them.
“Henry, right?” Hunter asks, looking at the taller vampire. “You brought a friend?”
“I hope that’s all right,” Henry says lightly. He glances at Alex. “He was quite… excited to hear about your book.”
“Yeah, rare books are my favorite,” Alex puts in unconvincingly. They all stand there for a moment in uncertain silence, until Alex prompts, “Can we come in?”
“Oh, yes, please do,” Hunter says as he steps back from the door. He leads them into a bland living room and gestures to one side. “If you wait here, I’ll go get it?”
“Of course,” Henry agrees.
Hunter disappears down the hall, leaving the two vampires alone. Henry more or less stays in one place, but Alex takes it upon himself to start snooping around the living room. There isn’t much to see, though, and he returns to Henry’s side fairly quickly.
“And did you find anything nefarious?” Henry prompts in a tone that makes clear what he thinks of Alex’s paranoia.
“Well. No,” Alex admits.
“So will you now entertain the idea that perhaps this exceedingly boring human is not a vampire hunter?”
“This is still fishy. You can’t tell me it’s not.”
Henry sighs, but then Hunter comes back into the room holding an old book. He carries it over to a small table and puts the book down. “Um. You can look at it over here? The light’s better.”
The camera pans slightly, making it obvious that the light over by the table is the same as the rest of the room. Alex and Henry exchange a glance with each other and the camera, but Henry nods at Hunter and walks the few steps over to the table.
“Sorry, I… forgot something,” Hunter says. His eyes are darting around as he wrings his hands nervously. “B-be right back!”
Once they’re left alone again, Henry picks up the book and opens it, immediately engrossed. He turns a few pages and mutters something that sounds like, “Now where did he get this?”
Alex starts to take a step toward him, but at that moment, a large net drops out of the ceiling over Henry, who looks up from the book as it lands on top of him. He blinks, frowning, apparently more confused than concerned.
“What in blazes?” Henry says.
“See, I fucking told you—” Alex starts, but before he can finish, Hunter comes back into the room holding a crossbow. Alex scoffs at him. “This was your plan?” he sneers derisively. “A fucking net?”
“You’re free now,” Hunter tells Alex as he points the crossbow at Henry.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Hunter looks between the two of them uncertainly. “Aren’t you, like, the vampire’s helper?”
“Oh hell no,” Alex says with obvious, deep offense. “Why the fuck— I’m not his fucking familiar. I’m a fucking vampire too, dipshit!”
“Are you sure?” Hunter asks, apparently not convinced. “You’re not very… pale.”
“Are you kidding me with this shit?” Alex says, turning toward the camera. “A fucking racist vampire hunter. Now I’ve fucking seen it all.”
“Alex, perhaps it would be best to defuse the situation—” Henry tries, still standing under the net, but Alex is having none of it.
“I can’t believe this guy!” Alex rants, throwing his hands up in the air. “Not pale enough! I’ll show you not fucking pale enough, you little—”
“Alex, for Satan’s sake,” Henry huffs. Then he sets the book to the side again and grips the net, effortlessly tearing it open so that it falls to the ground around his feet.
Hunter startles, apparently having expected the net to adequately contain Henry. He grips the crossbow with both hands and takes aim but, as he squeezes the trigger, Alex leaps forward and pushes Henry out of the way. The crossbow bolt catches him in the right shoulder, and he staggers as it punches all the way through. Henry moves quickly to his side to grab his arm, but Alex doesn’t seem all that affected by the injury.
“Ow,” Alex says peevishly, glaring at Hunter, who has gone white as a sheet. He reaches up and yanks the bolt out, inspects the bloody wooden tip of it for a moment, then drops it on the floor where it clatters against the hardwood. “Yeah, you’re gonna regret that.” He looks at the camera. “You’re probably gonna want to get out of here unless you plan on spending tomorrow cleaning blood out of that thing.”
The camera shakes slightly and starts retreating toward the door, but Henry holds up a hand. “Oh, wait one moment, if you will.”
Everyone—including Hunter, who looks extremely confused—watches as he steps back over to the table and retrieves the book, then holds it out to the cameraman. Alex gives him an exasperated look.
“What?” Henry says defensively. “It’s a nice book!”
The front door of the vampire residence bangs open, and Alex and Henry stagger over the threshold. They’re pretty much covered in blood from head to toe, and Alex is leaning heavily against Henry, one arm thrown over Henry’s shoulders as Henry’s arm grips around his waist. A moment later, the other vampires appear—Bea from the library, and Nora, Pez, and June at the top of the stairs, their clothes and hair in various states of disarray.
“What the fucking hell did you do?” Bea gasps at the sight of them.
“It turns out that Hunter was, in fact, a vampire hunter,” Henry says flatly. “We took care of it, but Alex got shot with a crossbow.”
“I’m fine,” Alex protests. He tries to pull away from Henry, but he wobbles a little unsteadily.
“You shouldn’t have exerted yourself,” Henry chides, pulling him close again. “It was completely unnecessary. That human was incompetent at best.”
“But Alex still got himself shot,” Nora points out.
“Only because he lept in front of me like a madman,” Henry says.
Alex scowls at him. “Next time, I’m letting you get staked.”
“Of course you are,” Henry agrees indulgently. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
They slowly continue down the hall, leaving the other vampires all still looking slightly stunned at this turn of events. Eventually Bea, Nora, and June all turn to look at Pez, who throws his hands up in the air.
“How was I to know he was actually a bloody vampire hunter?!”
With a mischievous grin on her face, Nora beckons the camera closer and points significantly into the dining room where low voices can be heard just out of view. The camera creeps slowly around the corner, bringing Alex and Henry into frame. They’ve washed most of the blood off, and Alex isn’t wearing a shirt as they sit beside the table; Henry’s chair is pulled up next to Alex’s injured side so that he can carefully wrap a bandage around Alex’s shoulder.
“You really don’t have to do that,” Alex protests. “It’s already starting to heal.”
“Hush, you,” Henry replies fondly. “I’m not letting you walk around with an open wound. It’s bad enough that you could have been killed. You can’t just leap in front of projectile weapons, Alex. What if he had accidentally hit your heart?”
Alex shrugs his good shoulder. “Dunno. Wasn’t really thinking. Just couldn’t let you get hurt.”
“Did you forget that I was wearing a bloody protection amulet? That you had made for me?”
“First off, I might have,” Alex admits. His eyes narrow. “Secondly, you weren’t supposed to know that it was from me.”
“June gave you up.”
Alex sighs, staring down into his lap, and they sit in silence for a few minutes longer as Henry finishes up his work. He doesn’t pull away when he’s done, though; instead, he reaches up and cups Alex’s cheek with his hand, turning Alex’s face toward him.
“Hey,” he murmurs, “thank you for protecting me.”
One corner of Alex’s mouth tugs upward wryly. “Even if you don’t actually need protecting?”
“Especially then.”
Alex murmurs something so quietly the mic doesn’t clearly pick it up, but it sounds suspiciously like I think I might be in love with you.
Henry’s eyes go wide. “Oh.”
Alex winces. “Sorry, that was dumb—”
His words are cut off when Henry pulls him into a kiss, which Alex immediately melts into. He reaches forward, putting a hand on Henry’s waist as he leans into it, his lips parting to fit their mouths together.
There’s a clatter elsewhere in the house, and Alex jerks back in surprise. Then he looks up directly into the camera and scowls.
“Oh, fuck all the way off,” Alex huffs and, with a flick of his wrist, the dining room door slams shut.