Poison Fruit

“It’s not like it’s a big deal,” Jen said dismissively. “I’m just helping out because of his mom’s arthritis.”

“First Sinclair, now you,” I said. “Okay, tell me this. Are you going as Lee’s date or as his mom’s helper?”

“I don’t know.” Jen made a face. “A little of both, maybe. His mom’s weird about having people over, but she’s comfortable with me since I helped take care of her when Lee’s arm was broken. And it’s a good excuse to get out of dinner with my family.”

“Let me put it this way,” I said. “Are you getting paid for being there?”

“No.”

“Then it’s a date.” We were sprawled at opposite ends of the couch in Sinclair’s living room while he was working at the nursery. I nudged her with one foot. “Talk about weird—why are you being so weird about this?”

“Oh, God.” Heaving a sigh, Jen let her head flop back on the armrest. “Because it is weird, Daise. There’s a part of me that thinks, am I really doing this? Am I really dating Skeletor?”

“You can’t—”

“I know, I know.” She propped herself on her elbows and lifted her head. “High school was a long time ago. But the thing is, there’s another part of me that wonders if I’m good enough for Lee.” Jen’s gaze was uncertain and vulnerable. “I mean, Lee’s a big deal in the gaming industry. He’s a fucking genius, Daisy. And I clean houses for a living.”

“Jen—”

“He’s only here in Pemkowet to take care of his mom,” she continued. “While I was living with my parents, he built a whole life out in Seattle. Hell, maybe he knows Cody’s werewolf girlfriend! Lee’s been to gaming expos all over the world. Do you know the farthest place I’ve ever been from home?”

“Chicago,” I murmured.

“Chicago!” Jen echoed me. “I don’t even have a passport. I don’t even know how you get a passport. Do you know what I do know? How to get rid of stubborn toilet bowl stains! And I just—”

“Jennifer Mary Cassopolis!” I pointed at her. “Stop it. Stop it right now. Do you like Lee?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “I think I do.”

“Okay,” I said. “Then that’s really all that matters, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Jen asked.

I shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s easy. But hell, at least you’re both the same species.” I softened my voice. “Lee likes you, Jen. He likes you a lot. And okay, maybe he’s overcompensating a little with the gym and the protein shakes, but you know what? You guys have a lot in common. Whatever life he built for himself in Seattle, he gave it up to take care of his mom, just like you put your life on hold to stay at home and make sure Brandon was safe.”

For the record, Brandon was Jen’s little brother; only twelve years old, a change-of-life baby. Until recently, Jen had continued living at home to protect him from their abusive father. If you’re wondering what changed, that would be the miraculous transformation of Bethany Cassopolis from a whiny, clingy blood-slut to a badass vampire bitch who threatened to drink her father dry if he ever laid a hand on his wife or children again. So far, it had proved an effective threat.

“That’s true,” Jen agreed.

“You’re a good friend,” I said firmly. “You’re my best friend, Jen. You’re smart, funny, gorgeous, and loyal as hell. I’m glad you like Lee. I like him, too. But do not for one instant even begin to think that you’re not good enough for him. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good.” I rearranged myself on my end of the couch. “So that’s settled. Let’s get to the juicy stuff. Any fooling around? Have you at least kissed?”

“We’ve only had one official date, Daise,” Jen reminded me. “And that was to get me out of the house while Sinclair worked up his nightmare whammy for you.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “And?”

Jen sighed. “Okay, Lee kissed me good night at the front door. And, um, it may have turned into a minor make-out session. I’ll say one thing—he knows what he’s doing,” she added. “Those girls out in Seattle must have taught him a thing or two.”

I winced. “Not exactly what I needed to hear right now, girlfriend.”

“Sorry!” Jen grimaced. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Eh, it’s not your fault.” I waved one hand. “It’s nobody’s fault. It just sucks, that’s all.”

“Yeah, it does.” She gave me a shrewd look. “Which is why I’m glad you’re willing to give the hot ghoul a chance. You are going to see him when he gets back, right?”

“Right.”

I hadn’t told Jen about the part where Stefan forewarned me about asking for an ominously grave favor. I’m not sure why, other than the fact that since he’d made it clear he’d be asking me in my capacity as Hel’s liaison, it probably wasn’t appropriate fodder for girl talk, which meant . . . oh, gah.

I was totally complicit in this whole cryptic-eldritch-crap scenario.

I hadn’t told her about the nightmare, either. It was inside me, eating at me like a cancer. For a moment, I thought about spilling my guts about the whole thing . . . but after our talk, Jen looked happier and more relaxed than I’d seen her in a long time.