If the clock on the wall was anything to go by, it was the middle of the day, and as she watched David's head sway slightly above her, her eyes trying to avoid staring at his desperately-in-need-of-a-pedicure feet clinging to the basement rafters, Mattie knew that she wasn't going to be able to sleep. She was heartbroken, drained, and a whole host of other emotions and by all rights should've been exhausted, but for whatever reason, she just wasn't ready to sleep.
She gently pushed Thorn off of her legs. He gave a half-hearted grunt of disapproval but shifted down further onto the sofa where Mattie was reclining. With her legs free, Mattie stood and stretched, her eyes taking in her surroundings again.
It wasn't the typical scary basement or even your typical kids play area; it resembled an indoor, mushroom-laden greenhouse. There were herbs, in varying stages of drying, hanging from the ceiling, swaying around David, glass jars, and various types of tools, some that Mattie recognized but many more that she didn't, neatly rested on the workbenches. David had explained that Sylvia was a witch. Not in a popular culture kind of way, but an actual, real power having witch who came from a long line of witches. Mattie didn't know much about real witches, and David had been too tired to expand on what exactly a real witch was. But whatever her expectations, Mattie had to admit that Sylvia seemed like an ordinary older woman.
A framed certificate on the wall by the staircase caught Mattie's eyes and she walked over to examine it more closely.
"That's my certificate of completion from the Davia Farr Secretary School." Mattie glanced up at Sylvia, who stood at the top of the stairs. "Class of 1967."
"They have schools for secretaries?"
"Of course. New York had some of the best."
"Huh." Mattie turned back to the certificate. "I've never been to New York. Or the east coast."
"Oh, you'll come to know it." Mattie frowned but didn't get a chance to ask what Sylvia meant because she continued talking. "I've made some hot chocolate. Would you like to join me?"
"Hot chocolate?" Mattie repeated. "Can vampires even drink hot chocolate?"
"As long as it isn't made with holy water." Sylvia laughed. "Which I promise, it isn't. Just almond milk. I find that almond milk makes a creamier hot chocolate. Come on."
Mattie took one last glance at David before climbing the stairs, comforted by Thorn following behind her. When she reached the landing, she squinted, a soft hiss escaping her lips as the muted sunlight hit her eyes. There were blackout curtains up on the windows, but the room was still borderline unpleasant for the vampire.
"You'll get used to it," Sylvia called from the kitchen. "Come on. I promise you're safe."
Mattie and Thorn walked into the kitchen where Sylvia was already seated, two mugs resting on the wooden table. She gestured at one of the empty chairs. Mattie sat silently, automatically pulling her right leg up underneath her. Silence reigned for a full minute before Mattie broke it.
"I wanted to thank you again." She stammered. "For letting us crash here and shower and all that. I may not know much, but I know enough to know that you could've just slammed the door on David and me."
Sylvia smiled. "Honestly, I'm doing it for you."
"For me?! Why?"
"You are far more important than you give yourself credit for. I had a dream about you, maybe a month ago. I didn't know it was you at the time, but when you spoke for the first time on the porch, I recognized your voice."
Mattie wasn't sure what to say. Before Santa Carla, she would've laughed at the idea of prophetic dreams and real witches, but she was a full-fledged vampire now so clearly there was more to life than what she had assumed before. Paranormal was her new normal.
"Can I ask you a question? If you don't want to answer, I totally understand."
"I've always hated the pressure of 'can I ask you a question?', but I appreciate it's necessity. What's the question?"
"How'd you meet David?"
"Ah." Sylvia took a sip of her hot chocolate. "Now that is a long story and a rather unpleasant one at times."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried."
Sylvia waved her hand dismissively. "No, it's alright. I've been trying to find a way to tell my son the story anyway, so I suppose practicing on you might be a good way to start."
"You have a son?"
Sylvia nodded. "Yes. His name is Darien. He's a couple years older than you."
"Does he live here with you?"
"No. He lives in Mexico. He met a great young woman named Ula in Tlaxcala while he was studying, and he decided that he wanted to stay there with her. I see them from time to time, though."
"I know I'm being nosey again, but why do you need to practice telling your story about meeting David?"
Sylvia fixed Mattie with a pointed look. "Because if it wasn't for David, I never would've met Dwayne and Dwayne is Darien's father."