13 of 13 Short Stories Before Halloween
Well, that’s it. 13 stories. I hope you enjoyed this exercise. I may write another tomorrow…we shall see. It has been a busy week.
Have a Happy Halloween!
“What a wonderful thing humanity is: passionate, intelligent, inquisitive, generous, full of hope and joy, noble of spirit, and above all, delicious.”
Delilah paused in the massive doorway of the forest estate, her frame casting an impossibly long shadow across the marble foyer. Behind her, six figures materialized from the darkness, some in elaborate costumes, some decidedly not in costume at all. Some were vampires. Some were simply humans who’d grown to hate their own kind. Thunder rumbled overhead as if on cue, which Delilah found a bit on-the-nose but appreciated nonetheless.
The Halloween party fell silent. A champagne flute shattered against imported tile.
“Please,” Delilah continued, sweeping into the room with the kind of confidence that comes from two centuries of never being told no, “don’t let us interrupt your charming Supernatural Soirée. We’re just here for the refreshments.” She smiled, and her fangs caught the chandelier light like tiny knives. “Well, and perhaps a few valuables. We’re flexible.”
The two hosts (tech bros dressed as werewolves who’d actually struck gold integrating real werewolves into warehouse work and pixies into customer service) stood frozen by the caviar station. One of them had been mid-pitch about Q4 earnings, his fake fur looking suddenly very cheap.
“The thing about hosting a party this deep in the woods on Mischief Night,” Delilah mused, trailing one pale finger along a Grecian column decorated with plastic cobwebs, “is that no one can hear you scream. I mean, statistically speaking. We haven’t tested it yet tonight, but—”
What was supposed to be a simple robbery (snatch some jewelry, drain a tech billionaire or two, leave a memorable Yelp review) quickly spiraled. One of Delilah’s crew, a bitter-looking human with an accountant’s posture dressed as a sad vampire (the irony was not lost on anyone) who kept muttering about “systemic injustice,” got overenthusiastic with a hedge fund manager and accidentally tore a curtain. This started a small fire. The fire set off the sprinklers. The sprinklers ruined a very expensive collection of NFT certificates and melted the elaborate Halloween decorations, which enraged one of the guests, who threw a punch, which tall-and-brooding (dressed as a Victorian vampire, because why not lean in) caught and returned with interest.
Soon it was chaos. Dignified chaos, but chaos. Orange and black streamers hung limply from the sprinklers.
Delilah waded through the mayhem with the boredom of someone who’d seen the French Revolution firsthand and found Halloween festivities disappointingly commercialized. That’s when she spotted her.
A woman stood near the back terrace, shaken by the supernatural home invasion occurring around her. She had dark hair swept up in an elegant twist, wearing what appeared to be a form-fitting white dress with asymmetrical hem and orange accessories—a sexy Wilma Flintstone costume that somehow managed to look both ridiculous and devastating. The kind of bone structure that made Delilah’s fangs ache didn’t hurt either. More importantly, she smelled like jasmine and gunpowder—an intoxicating combination that cut through the party store perfume and cheap costume fabric.
Detective Elara Beaumont was having a terrible night even before the vampires arrived. She’d been in Shadowbrook for exactly four months, transferred from a small precinct upstate where the most supernatural thing she’d encountered was a fortune teller with a suspiciously accurate track record. Here, vampires had rights. Werewolves had union representation. She’d spent three of those four months undercover trying to catch Marcus Delacroix in his money laundering scheme, and now there were actual goddamn vampires crashing the Halloween party she’d finally gotten invited to.
Four months of work, ruined on Mischief Night of all nights.
This was absolutely not in the training manual.
She was reaching for the gun strapped to her thigh when a cold hand wrapped around her wrist.
“I don’t think so, darling,” Delilah purred. “You’re far too lovely to waste on sad accountant’s snack tray. You’re coming with me.”
“Excuse me—what? No. Absolutely not.” Elara tried to jerk her hand back. The grip didn’t budge. “I have—I have people expecting me. Important people. Very important people who will notice I’m gone.”
“I’m sure they will.” Delilah hoisted her over one shoulder with inhuman strength.
“PUT ME DOWN! This is… do you have any idea who I…” Elara pounded on Delilah’s back as they bounded toward the French doors. “This is KIDNAPPING! That’s a FELONY!”
“Technically it’s rescue,” Delilah called over her shoulder. “You’re welcome!”
Behind them, someone was crying about their vintage wine collection. The sad accountant was apologizing profusely while adjusting his plastic fangs. Honestly, Delilah should really learn their names at some point.
Delilah’s townhouse was surprisingly tasteful, all dark wood and leather-bound books, with none of the gothic cliché Elara had expected. Though she did notice a distinct lack of jack-o’-lanterns or any acknowledgment of the holiday. She found herself deposited on a velvet sofa while Delilah poured two glasses of wine.
“I don’t drink with kidnappers,” Elara said, standing immediately and looking for exits. Two windows, one door. The door she came through. The windows probably had—were those bars? Damn. Who has decorative bars?
“Oh, don’t be tedious. I didn’t kidnap you. I rescued you from a very dull party that was about to involve police sirens.” Delilah handed her a glass anyway. “Though I suppose you’d have been safe enough, Detective Beaumont.”
Elara’s blood ran cold. “How… okay, how do you know that? Did you go through my purse? Because that’s…”
“Your badge fell out during transport. Also, you smell like police-issued coffee and righteous indignation. It’s very distinct.” The vampire settled into the chair across from her, crossing her legs with predatory grace. “Marcus Delacroix, embezzling from pension funds. You’ve been building a case for months. Admirable, really.”
“I… you can’t just…” Elara was pacing now. “I’ve been here for four months! FOUR MONTHS of groundwork! Do you know how hard it is to get invited to these things? I had to learn about cryptocurrency! I don’t even understand cryptocurrency! And you just… you just GRABBED me in front of everyone!”
“Better than letting you arrest my crew in front of everyone.”
“YOUR crew just committed armed robbery!”
“Unarmed, actually. The tall one forgot his tire iron.”
“THAT DOESN’T MAKE IT BETTER!” Elara spun to face her. “And what do you mean I smell like righteous indignation?”
“It’s a pheromone thing. Very specific to law enforcement.” The vampire sipped her wine. “You also smell like jasmine and gunpowder, which is frankly intoxicating, but I digress.”
“Are you going to kill me?” The question came out more shrill than Elara intended.
“Don’t be dramatic. I’m going to finish my wine.” The vampire studied her over the rim of her glass. “Though I am terribly hungry, and you do smell extraordinary. Besides, killing someone the night before Halloween? Far too cliché. I have standards.”
“Absolutely not. No. Nope. Not happening.” Elara backed up until she hit a bookshelf. “I have a—a thing. A medical thing. Probably very poisonous to vampires.”
“What medical thing?”
“A blood thing! My blood is… bad. Very bad blood. Toxic, even.”
“You’re a terrible liar for a detective.”
“I’m an EXCELLENT liar! I convinced a millionaire I understood blockchain!”
The vampire laughed, a genuine sound that seemed to surprise even her. “You’re panicking.”
“I’m NOT panicking, I’m strategically assessing…” Elara grabbed a book off the shelf and held it up like a weapon. “Stay back! I know how to use this!”
“It’s a first edition Hemingway.”
“I’ll throw it!”
“Please don’t.”
“Then tell me what you want!” Elara was breathing hard, the book shaking in her hands. “You want ransom? Information? Because I’m not giving you anything. I’ve been trained for hostage situations. I know all the techniques. I won’t break.”
“I don’t want information, darling. I want…” Delilah set down her wine glass and stood slowly, “…to bite you. Just a little.”
“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”
“Not even a little bite?”
“NO.”
“A nibble?”
“How is that different from a bite?”
“Less blood.”
“Still NO!”
“You’re very stubborn for someone holding a book hostage.”
“I’m trained to be stubborn! It’s literally in the manual!” Despite herself, Elara felt a hysterical laugh bubble up. This was insane. She was having an argument about nibbling with an actual vampire. “This isn’t—this isn’t how this is supposed to go. When I transferred here, they said supernaturals were ‘integrated’ and ‘law-abiding’ and—”
“And you believed that?” Delilah tilted her head, amused. “How refreshingly naive.”
“I’m not NAIVE! I’m from upstate! The most supernatural thing we had was a psychic who predicted rain! Which is NOT impressive when you live somewhere with WEATHER!”
“You’re panicking again.”
“I’M PROCESSING!” Elara lowered the book slightly. “How does this usually work? You drink, I die, you leave my body in a dumpster?”
“Good lord, no. A dumpster? I have standards.” The vampire took a step closer. “A bite doesn’t kill. It just takes a bit. And if I’m being honest, most people find it rather… pleasant.”
“That’s the venom talking.”
“There’s no venom. Just endorphins. Biology is romantic that way.”
“Nothing about this is romantic! You KIDNAPPED me!”
“I rescued you from blowing your cover at a supernatural crime scene. You’re welcome.”
“THAT’S NOT…” Elara stopped, taking a breath. The book was still raised. “You can’t just reframe kidnapping as a favor.”
“I can if it’s true.” The vampire moved closer, her eyes catching the firelight. “I’ve been alive for centuries, Detective. I’ve watched humanity at its worst and its best. And right now, sitting across from you, I’m finding it very difficult to remember why I usually maintain such a cynical distance.”
“Oh my god, are you trying to seduce me?”
“Is it working?”
“NO! You’re a CRIMINAL and I’m LAW ENFORCEMENT and this is…” Elara’s voice cracked slightly. “This is my first major case and you’ve completely destroyed it!”
The vampire’s expression softened. “Your first?”
“Don’t… don’t do that. Don’t look at me like that.” Elara’s grip on the book loosened. “I worked really hard to get here. To prove I could handle a city with supernaturals. And now I’m going to have to explain to my captain why I was kidnapped by a vampire at my own crime scene.”
“You could say I glamoured you.”
“Can you actually do that?”
“No. But your captain doesn’t know that.”
Despite everything, Elara felt her lips twitch. “That’s… actually not terrible advice.”
“I’m occasionally helpful.” The vampire was standing directly in front of her now. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
“Stop what?”
“Getting closer.”
Elara looked down at the book in her hands, then back up at the vampire’s ancient, amused eyes. She should have said stop. Should have reached for her backup gun. Should have done anything except whisper, “I… I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
“Neither do I,” the vampire admitted quietly. “But it’s been too long since I’ve felt this uncertain about anything, so that’s rather exciting.”
“This is wildly inappropriate.”
“Yes.”
“I should arrest you.”
“You probably should.”
“I’m still holding a first edition Hemingway.”
“I noticed.”
Elara slowly set the book down on the shelf. “Just… be gentle?”
The vampire’s fingers traced along Elara’s jawline, tilting her face up. “Always.”
She leaned in slowly, giving Elara every chance to pull away. When their lips were barely a breath apart, she shifted, pressing her mouth to the curve of Elara’s neck instead. Her hand cradled the back of Elara’s head, fingers threading through her hair with unexpected tenderness.
The bite was nothing like Elara had expected. A sharp pressure, then warmth (no, heat) spreading from the point of contact through her entire body like whiskey on an empty stomach. Her hands found the vampire’s shoulders, whether to push her away or pull her closer, she couldn’t say. A soft sound escaped her throat that she’d definitely deny making later.
It lasted only seconds before the vampire pulled back, her pupils blown wide, a drop of blood on her lower lip. They were still so close, Elara could feel her unnecessary breath against her skin.
“See?” The vampire’s voice was rougher than before. “Still alive.”
Elara opened her mouth to respond, but the room tilted sideways. “Oh. Oh no.”
“I’ve got you.” The vampire caught her as her knees buckled, guiding her to the couch with surprising gentleness. “Just the endorphins. Give it a minute.”
“That was…” Elara touched her neck, feeling only the faintest mark. The world was pleasantly fuzzy around the edges. “Oh my god.”
“Yes?”
“That was really nice and I’m very angry about it.” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “I’m going to arrest you. Eventually. When I remember how legs work.”
“Take your time.”
“This doesn’t change anything. You’re still a criminal.”
“I’m a vampire. The criminal thing is more of a hobby.” The vampire sat beside her, close enough that Elara could feel the unnatural coolness of her skin. “Though for what it’s worth, those tech bros were exploiting supernaturals for profit. Sad accountant may be annoying, but he has a point about wealth inequality.”
“That doesn’t justify robbing people.” Elara’s voice was weaker than she wanted it to be.
“Doesn’t it? I’ve lived through never-ending years of human cruelty and greed. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands.” The vampire tilted her head. “Though I suppose you’d say that’s what the justice system is for.”
“I would, yes. Because it IS.” Elara forced herself to sit up straighter. “I’ve been here four months and I’m already compromised. This is a disaster.”
“Or an opportunity.”
“How is this an OPPORTUNITY?”
“You could arrest me,” Delilah mused, “or you could acknowledge that sometimes justice comes in many forms. We could negotiate terms. I return some jewelry, you conveniently forget my address…”
“That’s called being an accessory after the fact!”
“Such unpleasant terminology.”
“Because it’s a CRIME!”
“And I’d say the justice system moves too slowly for those suffering now.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the fire crackling between them. Elara should have been terrified, or at least deeply uncomfortable. Instead, she felt oddly at ease, as if she’d known this strange woman for years rather than hours.
“You need to let me go,” she said finally.
“I will. Soon. I’ll even drop you at home.” The vampire turned to face her fully. “But may I ask you something first?”
“Depends on the question.”
“Do you always feel alone?” The vampire’s voice had lost its playful edge. “Because I’ve felt that way for too long, and something about you makes it feel… less isolating.”
Elara should have deflected. Should have maintained professional distance. Instead, she found herself nodding. “Every single day.”
“How utterly tragic for both of us.”
“Wildly inappropriate,” Elara echoed, her lips quirking into a smile.
“I’m beginning to think that’s your favorite phrase.”
“It’s getting a workout tonight.”
The vampire laughed again, and this time when she leaned closer, Elara didn’t pull away. The kiss was soft, almost questioning, as if the vampire was somehow nervous. Elara tasted copper and wine and something indefinably ancient, and when they finally broke apart, she found herself breathless.
“That was…”
“I know,” Delilah whispered.
“I still have to do my job.”
“Do you though?” The vampire’s thumb traced Elara’s lower lip. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re having a crisis of conscience.”
“That’s not… I’m not…” Elara caught the vampire’s wrist, but didn’t push her hand away. “You’re a bad influence.”
“The worst.” The vampire grinned. “And yet here you are, kissing me instead of handcuffing me.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Darling, I’ve been tempting you since the moment I picked you up.”
Elara groaned. “This is a disaster. My captain is going to kill me.”
“Not if I do it first.”
“That’s not funny!”
“It’s a little funny.” The vampire kissed her again, softer this time. “Tell you what. I’ll take you home. We’ll pretend this never happened. You’ll go back to being a dedicated detective, I’ll go back to being a morally ambiguous vampire, and we’ll both try very hard to forget tonight.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do.”
“No,” the vampire admitted. “But I thought I’d offer you an out. You know, in case you came to your senses.”
Elara laughed, surprising herself. “I think my senses left the building around the time you bit me.”
“Excellent. Then let’s get you home.”
The motorcycle was a gorgeous vintage Triumph that Delilah pulled from a garage Elara hadn’t noticed before. She handed Elara a helmet and swung her leg over the seat with practiced ease.
“You have a motorcycle,” Elara said stupidly, staring at it.
“I have a few.” Delilah patted the seat behind her. “Come on, Detective. Unless you’d rather walk?”
“But you—” Elara frowned, trying to piece together the timeline through the lingering endorphin haze. “How did you get to the party? I didn’t see any vehicles.”
“Carpooled with tall-and-brooding. Very environmentally conscious, vampires. We have centuries to see the consequences of climate change, so we take it seriously.”
“That’s…” Elara climbed on behind her, wrapping her arms around Delilah’s waist. “Actually kind of responsible.”
“I contain multitudes.”
The ride to Elara’s apartment was shorter than she wanted it to be. The city blurred past them, streetlights casting everything in orange and gold. They passed groups of early trick-or-treaters (parents letting their kids get a head start on Mischief Night) and elaborate yard decorations with fog machines and animatronic skeletons. Jack-o’-lanterns grinned from every porch. On any other night, Elara might have found it charming. Tonight, pressed against a vampire’s back as they wove through the streets, it felt surreal.
Elara pressed closer, partly for safety, partly because she didn’t want to let go. The wind whipped her hair, and for the first time in four months, she felt like she could breathe.
Too soon, they pulled up in front of her building. Delilah killed the engine, and the sudden silence felt heavy with possibility.
Elara climbed off reluctantly, pulling off the helmet. “So. That happened.”
“It did.” The vampire remained seated, looking up at her with an unreadable expression.
“I should still arrest you.”
“You probably should.”
“But I’m not going to. Not tonight, anyway.”
“Smart.” The vampire smiled. “I’m sure you can find me if you change your mind.”
“Wait…” Elara grabbed the vampire’s arm as she started to turn the bike back on. “You flew earlier, didn’t you? When you grabbed me from the party. There’s no way you ran that fast with me over your shoulder.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The vampire’s expression was perfectly innocent. “I’m just very athletic.”
“You flew. Vampires can fly.”
“Can we?” The vampire tilted her head. “That seems unfair. We’re already immortal and devastatingly attractive. Flight seems excessive.”
Elara was thinking too hard.
“Go inside, Detective.” The vampire reached up, cupping Elara’s face in her still warm hand. “Before I decide to kidnap you again.”
“That’s not… mmph…”
The kiss cut off Elara’s protest. It was deeper this time, less uncertain, with two centuries of experience behind it that made Elara’s head spin worse than the bite had. When the vampire finally pulled away, she was smirking.
“Goodnight, Detective. Happy Halloween.”
“It’s not Halloween yet,” Elara protested weakly.
“Close enough.” The vampire winked. “Though tomorrow night, I’ll be absolutely insufferable. All those humans dressed as vampires? The cultural appropriation of it all.”
“You didn’t answer my question about flying!”
But Delilah had already kick-started the engine, drowning out any further protest. She threw Elara one last grin over her shoulder, then peeled away from the curb with a roar of exhaust that was probably illegal.
Elara stood in her doorway, touching her lips, watching the taillight disappear around the corner. A plastic skeleton dangled from her neighbor’s balcony, swaying in the autumn breeze. Her neck still tingled where the vampire had bitten her. Her case was in shambles. She’d kissed a criminal. Multiple times. She’d let said criminal take her home like they’d just been on a date instead of… what even was that? A kidnapping? A rescue? A supernatural disaster on the night before Halloween?
Tomorrow, she’d figure out what to tell her captain. Tomorrow, she’d try to salvage her investigation. Tomorrow, she’d remember she was a cop and that she never even got the criminal’s name. She laughed and rolled her eyes. She just stood there grinning like an idiot, feeling more alive than she had in months.
Tomorrow was Halloween, and somehow that felt appropriate.
Vampires could definitely fly. She was sure of it.
And she was absolutely going to prove it.
Something tells me this isn’t the last we’ll see of Detective Elara Beaumont and her criminally charming vampire problem. Stay tuned…
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