4: why is my neighbor's apartment full of laughing Buddhas?

It takes a few hours for me to finally escape Midge's house. Her mom sat me down and basically interrogated me for a while. She wanted to know who my father was and where I grew up and how I was raised and all this. The woman clearly has no experience with demons, and I guess I don't blame her. We stick to the shadows most of the time.

It was something my dad used to tell me when I was little: "You never have to feel lost, Grey. The shadows will always be a home for you."

I realize that if you're not a demon that sounds really strange and really depressing. But it's just true.

Lucky for me, Midge's place isn't that far from mine, so when I finally get back to the street, I'm not entirely lost. It only takes me about fifteen minutes to get back to my apartment complex, and when I do, I'm honestly not surprised that there's droplets of blood all over the hallway.

I reach my floor, and of course, my neighbor Safiya's door is open.

I catch a glimpse of her with her fangs sunken into some girl's neck. She's certainly enjoying it. Her smile's a bloody mess.

"Safi," I mutter, "what have I told you about closing your door?"

Safiya looks up at me over her meal, rolls her eyes at me, and lets the girl slump to the floor. She's not dead—or at least, she shouldn't be. A vampire bite's just like a narcotic if you haven't built up a tolerance to it. Makes you sleepy as hell.

"And look who finally decided to come back," Safiya taunts, standing up, dragging her hand across her mouth. She pauses on the way to the door to get a napkin, dabbing her chin with it. "No offense, but I'm kind of disappointed."

"You always are. You hate me."

"That's not true. That would be a waste of energy, Mr. Meesang."

"You're undead. You have an infinite amount of energy."

She rolls her eyes again. Safiya rolls her eyes about a million times a day. I think it's in the place of breathing for her. "You look troubled, Grey. Did something happen?"

Ah. So I do look as exhausted as I feel.

I consider just saying no and going to my own apartment to get in my own bed like I've been planning to this whole time, but I realize I actually could use some information from her. If anyone would know what those vampires were up to at The Steam Room, it would be Safiya, one of their own. "Why don't you clean up your...uh, mess, and then we can talk."

Safiya blinks her huge eyes at me, and surprise crosses her face, if only for a moment. Then she shrugs, twisting her sable hair into a ponytail and saying, "Gimme a sec," before slamming the door in my face.

I stand out there for a hot minute, it feels like, awkwardly whistling a tune through my teeth. It is also while I'm waiting here that I realize I'm starving. I haven't eaten anything in the past day except for that apple, and I spilled that tea everywhere but in my mouth. I'm lingering outside Safiya's door, thinking about how nice a huge bowl of Rice Krisipies would be, when she opens it again.

I'm not surprised that she's redone all her makeup and even changed outfits. She's now in a crop top and a pair of sweatpants, her necklace—formerly bloody—scrubbed clean. She inclines her head and tells me, "Come in."

"And your friend?"

"She's sleeping in my bedroom," Safiya explains, retracting her fangs. I'm admittedly jealous of that, and that's probably the only thing I'm jealous of about vampires. Not only do I have twice the amount of fangs the vampires do, I also cannot retract them, so they hang there in my mouth like enameled icicles. "Not an issue anymore."

I grunt and brush past her into the apartment, collapsing on her futon with a heavy sigh. She certainly has more design skill than I do. The whole apartment gives off sort of an Eastern vibe, what with the wall tapestries and laughing Buddhas all over the place. She's not even Buddhist, I don't think. In fact, I don't really know jack about Safiya.

A moment later, she joins with me with a beer bottle in her hand. "Alright, demonboy. Fire away."

Promptly, I present my bitten arm for her to see. So the bite's already mostly faded, but the two holes are still pronounced enough to be visible. Safiya takes a long swig of her beer. "That doesn't look too nice," she observes.

"Understatement of the year, Safiya," I mutter. "Your fellas almost ate me today. And they did eat at least five other people."

"You lived," Safiya comments, folding her legs underneath her. "So why are you so upset?"

"You're telling me you're fine with this? That it doesn't bug you that, like, half a dozen vampires broke their own rules?" I press, folding my arms across my chest. I'm aware Safiya's looking at me like I'm insane, but that just gets me more flustered. I want to believe this is an isolated incident, but what if it happens again? And what if I can't save my favorite tea maker this time? My matcha would never taste the same. "I mean, you guys have decided since practically forever that if we're going to do this—live among humans, I mean—there has to be some ground rules. And if all of a sudden these rules are being broken, it's just going to—"

"Calm yourself, Grey," says Safiya over the mouth of her beer bottle. "Your tail's wagging."

"It is not—" I cut off, because it is. Blushing, I grab it up sharply and tuck it in again. I swear. The thing has a mind of its own. With a sigh, I start again, calmer this time. "You get what I'm saying, don't you? This shouldn't have happened."

"Yes, I get all that," Safiya agrees, "but what I don't get is why you're telling me. Yes, I am a member of the vampire race. That is true. But I don't possibly have control or connections to every single vampire ever in existence. It's a few bad ones, I'm sure. There's nothing I can do about it, Grey."

I groan, thudding back against the cushions and pressing a pillow into my face. My voice comes out all muffled. "But—"

"Like I said, you lived, obviously. So it's not a big deal."

"Yet, Safi."

"I don't have space for this negativity in my life right now, Grey. Please remove yourself," Safiya demands, and then she's got me by the arm, propelling me up and back to the door.

She shoves me out into the hallway, and I look back at her, hopeful. Somehow she already knows what I'm asking for, because she rolls her eyes—what a surprise—and says, "Fine. I'll check on it for you. But that's if I feel like it."

"Thanks, Safiya."

She doesn't smile, just flips me off. "Go home, demonboy."

The door slams shut in my face.