High Stakes by Helen Harper

her.’ I look away. ‘There were stakes, Michael. They impaled her hands with wooden stakes.’
    He blanches. ‘Sweet Jesus.’
    Kimchi whines and licks my hand. As he does, I feel the odd prickle across the back of my neck alerting me to the sun’s impending approach.
    ‘I have to go.’ I hop off the stool.
    ‘I can walk you back if you wish.’
    ‘It’s okay. I have Kimchi to protect me.’
    He gives me a funny look. ‘The dog’s name is Kimchi? Isn’t that…’
    I bob my head. ‘Believe me, I’ve already gone through this.’ I twist my hands nervously. ‘Well, see you.’
    ‘Bo,’ he calls softly, when I’m already halfway out the door. ‘Let’s do this again. It wasn’t so bad, was it?’
    ‘I guess not.’ I smile at him while my stomach somersaults. Maybe next time I’ll ask him about the photo.

 
     
    Chapter Five: Puppy Love
     
    When I open my eyes eight hours later, my small flat is a scene of utter devastation. I spring to my feet, eyes wide as I take in clouds of white stuffing, some unidentifiable beige material, and my clothes strewn about. I’d been tired, sure, but the thought that someone could wander while I was fast asleep and trash the place sends my heart racing. I don’t own anything of value so a thief would get little joy from rifling through my belongings. Then it occurs to me what the intruder may have been after. I sprint to the tiny kitchen and fling open the fridge door, scrabbling towards the back. Relief floods through me: X’s little vial of dark red blood – and the theoretical cure for vampirism – is still there. I close my eyes and rock back on my heels until something cold nudges my back.
    Twisting round, I’m greeted by Kimchi. He thumps his tail on the floor. I frown at him. ‘Did you do this?’ I scoop up the nearest ball of fluff and hold it out while he looks away, suddenly unable to meet my eyes. ‘You’re in the doghouse, buster,’ I tell him sternly.
    There’s a scrawled note on the kitchen table from Connor, informing me that he took the dog to the vet but it would be a day or two before we received the blood tests back. I wonder what the vet’s face was like when Connor told him he wanted the mutt checked for vampirism. I’m also tempted to ask him to return my key. Dropping in unannounced is one thing; dropping in and leaving the Drool Master is something entirely different.
    Sighing, I fill a bowl with water and place it on the floor, before opening various cupboards to find something doggy friendly for Kimchi to eat. Given how many of my belongings he’s managed to chew through, he’ll probably eat just about anything. I find a tin of tuna hiding behind some teabags and gaze at it. I must have bought it during one of my ‘I’m going to eat normal food like a human’ shopping expeditions. I don’t have to eat anything – vampires can survive on blood alone, but most still enjoy eating real food sometimes. Ria, in one of her more benevolent moods, gave me a specially created vampire cookbook not long after I moved in here. Most of the recipes seem to incorporate blood and, quite frankly, turn my stomach. It was a nice thought though.
    I open the tin and tip out the tuna onto a plate. Kimchi scarfs it down in five seconds flat and doesn’t seem to suffer from any immediate ill effects. I’ll have to buy some real dog food pronto, though. He licks the plate shiny clean then sneaks a look up at me. There’s a faint whine.
    ‘Are you saying that because you want more to eat?’ I ask. ‘Or is that an apology for destroying my soft furnishings?’
    He barks once and leaps up, placing his paws on my legs. His saliva-dripping tongue veers perilously close to my bare skin so I extricate myself carefully.
    ‘Sit,’ I tell him in as commanding a tone as I can manage.
    He looks delighted and jumps again. I’m about to try again when his ears prick up. He bounds to the front door, tail wagging so fervently I’m amazed it’s still