A Vampire Named Otto

“Keep off my lawn!”

Zephan ground to a halt. On the doorstep was a huge man, tall and broad, and fangs dented his lower lip. Holy shit, was he a vampire? Zephan had never met one. They were rare, myths almost.

“I need help.”

The door was open behind the man, but it didn’t look as if he would step aside to invite Zephan inside.

“Get off the grass!”

Zephan looked at his feet. He was on the gravel walkway, not on any grass, and this time of year, there wasn’t much grass to speak of anyway. It was coming, the spring green was about to take over.

“Please. I was kidnapped, and then I—”

“Get off my property!”

A branch snapped behind him, and Zephan cursed. He erected his invisibility shield and waited. When the man on the doorstep didn’t say anything and didn’t move, he carefully stepped to the side, and swung his leg over the picket fence, praying he wouldn’t impale himself as he tried to find traction on the bottom rail. He was too short to reach the lawn without castrating himself, and it wasn’t something he wanted to try when he had to be quiet—or any time, if he was being honest.

His damp sneaker slipped a few times, and he winced at the dirty smear he left on the white fence, but finally he managed to get over it. Walking a few steps, he grimaced as his feet left indents on the muddy grass.

He stopped and did his best not to breathe as he waited.

It didn’t take many seconds before three massive men scrambled out of the woods. Claws adorned their fingers, and there was a wild look in their amber eyes. Zephan shuddered.

“Get off my lawn!”

He looked back at the vampire. Was he talking to him?

“We’re looking for a guy—” One of the wolves held out a hand indicating a small person, and Zephan almost snorted. He might not be related to giants as the shifters appeared to be, but he wasn’t small. He was average. Average all over. “—lean, dark hair, flamethrower.”

The last bit had Zephan widen his eyes. He had no fire skills, none.

“Leave my property!” The vampire was glaring at them.

“Have you seen him?”

The vampire didn’t answer.

“Have you? We won’t bother you if you tell us where he went.”

Shit. Zephan took a step closer to the house. He didn’t think the vampire would protect him, but he believed he was safer near him. Or not. What did vampires eat? Did they eat psychics?

Most likely.

A low growl making the hairs stand on end sounded from behind Zephan, and he whirled around. Another huge man neared the picket fence from a different direction. It wasn’t someone Zephan had seen before, but he had no idea how many individuals there were in a pack, so maybe he was part of the gang that chased him.

There was an air of dominance around him, and he dipped his head in a short greeting to the vampire on the doorstep. “Sorry for the disturbance, Otto.”

Otto? A vampire named Otto.

“They’re trespassing.” Otto’s fangs were on full display, and Zephan shivered. They looked sharp.

“They sure are.” The new wolf flashed teeth at the three lingering by the gate. “What are you doing here?”

The one who’d spoken to Otto sneered. “None of your business.”

“You’re on my land, so it’s my business.”

“It’s my land.” Otto walked down the two steps and stood on the walkway. Zephan’s gaze jumped between him and the open door. Could he? Would Otto kill him if he tried?

“True, but surrounding your land is our land, and they’ve entered it without permission.”

Zephan ignored what they were saying—though a part of him realized he’d run across shifter country without permission too—and crept closer to the house. He took one slow step after the other, making sure his invisibility shield stayed in place. When he neared Otto, he held his breath.

Could he do this?

“Have them removed.” Otto’s voice made him jump. Fuck. Zephan chanced a glance over his shoulder. The man was grinning.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of them.”

“It doesn’t make us even, Averett.”

The man, presumably Averett, sighed loudly. “It was years ago!”

“You wrecked my zinnias.”

Averett threw his hands in the air. “Fine. I’ll get you new zinnias.”

“I have zinnias.”

Motion caught Zephan’s attention. One of the wolves who’d chased him was slowly edging away from the fence and toward the forest. If Zephan’s life hadn’t depended on being invisible, he’d have dropped his shield to point it out to the idiots fighting over zinnias, but he stepped forward instead.

If the wolf could take advantage of Otto and Averett being caught up in some old grievance, then so could he.

He slipped past Otto and walked up the two steps to the landing.

“Remove your shoes.”

Zephan jumped.

“What? You want me to remove my shoes?” Averett sounded confused.

“No. I want the ghost to remove his shoes. I don’t want footprints on my floors.”

Shit. Zephan sighed as low as he could, hoping the wolves wouldn’t be able to hear him.

Silence followed for a second or two, then Averett made a sound of disbelief. “Whatever, dude. I’ll take these clowns with me now.”

“Good.” Otto went up one step, and Zephan hurried forward. He toed off his wet sneakers, but since his socks were wet too, he feared he’d leave footprints anyway.

He scurried into the house and leaned against the wall, hoping Otto wouldn’t walk into him.