Confessions of a Vampire's Girlfriend by Katie Maxwell Read Free Book Online Page B

succulent-looking patch of grass.
    I had a horse. An old horse. In the middle of Europe, where I had no home but a trailer, I bought a horse. I tried to think of a reason Mom shouldn’t throw the hissy fit to end all hissy fits when she saw Tesla, but knew it was a lost cause. I had only one thing I could use as bargaining power. I sighed. Tesla, drowsing as we strolled along in the morning heat, bobbed his head and rolled an eye over to look at me. “You’re going to cost me a whole lot more than money, horse. A whole lot more.”
    We walked the rest of the way to the Faire in silence, Tesla thinking horsey-type thoughts and paying no attention to the cars as they zoomed by us, me dreading the deal I was going to have to cut. I’d have to do what Mom wanted me to do.
    I’d have to find out who the thief was.

CHAPTER FOUR

    â€œ H ey,” Soren said, and set a bucket of water down beside me before plopping to the ground.
    â€œHey,” I said back. “Thanks for the water. I’m sure Tesla will appreciate it when he’s done stuffing his face.”
    We were sitting on a bank at the far edge of the meadow, beyond the area the cars used to park. Tesla was grazing happily away in the long shadows cast by the sun as it started to dip below the trees. I had spent most of the day just sitting there, watching him. He moved stiffly and slowly, but l didn’t see any signs that he was deathly ill or ready to keel over any second, both of which Mom had suggested once she got over the shock of my arriving back at the trailer with a horse in tow.
    â€œHow did your mother take it?’
    I shrugged and plucked a piece of rail grass from the bank. “She threw a hissy.”
    Soren’s freckled nose scrunched up. “A hissy?”
    â€œA hissy fit. She had kittens. A cow. You know—she ranted.”
    â€œOh, ranted, yes, I’m familiar with ranted. My father rants always.”
    â€œYeah, well, when your father rants, I bet flowers don’t wilt and milk doesn’t turn sour.” That wasn’t the worst of it. Once, when she got really mad at me because I went out to a club after she said I couldn’t, every mirror in the house shattered. I was grounded for a month after that. Talk about your seven years’ bad luck.
    â€œNo,” Soren said thoughtfully. “Although once the doves all died.”
    Peter was one of the three magicians who practiced magic. He was the only one of the three who could do real magic, the kind you almost never see. His grand finale was turning a box of doves into Bruno, their horse, only that was an illusion, not real magic. The real magic . . . well, it gave you goose bumps to watch it.
    â€œI suppose sour milk is better than dead birds.”
    Soren selected a big piece of grass, splitting it down the middle to make a reed out of it. He blew. It sounded wet and slobbery. I folded my blade of grass carefully, put it to my lips, and sent a stream of air through the narrow gap. A high, sharp squeal silenced the nearby bird chatter for a moment. Tesla lifted his head and looked at me. I tapped the water bucket with my toes. He wandered over and plunged his gray-black muzzle into it, drinking and snorting to himself.
    â€œMiranda said you could keep him?”
    I thought back to the hour-long argument we’d had once I returned. “Well . . . she said I’d have to get a job in the Faire to pay for his food and vet bills. And she said your dad had to okay him traveling with Bruno when we’re on the road, and that a vet would have to look at him to make sure he didn’t have a horrible horse disease. And I have to find him a home when it’s time for us to go back to Oregon. But yes, she said I could keep him.”
    There was, of course, one other condition, the most important condition, the one that clinched the deal for me. I agreed to become Miss Touchy-Feely in an effort to figure out which one of the