The Halloween Haunting

1. FOMO of the Worst Kind

1

FOMO of the Worst Kind

My ex-Berserker and all-vampire roommate had FOMO almost as badly as I did.

Surviving a fire? All in a day’s work. Smoke inhalation? No big deal. At least, that was what I’d decided when I weighed the day I’d had against missing out. I absolutely wanted to meet Bradley’s hacker grandma, and Wembley was equally intrigued. Granted, his day hadn’t been quite so bad as mine, but I suspected he’d be on board even if it had been.

That’s what FOMO—fear of missing out—did to otherwise rational people. It’s an affliction, one I was happy to share with my buddy. Alex, my sometimes partner, was a different story. He didn’t have FOMO. He had KMPA—keep my partner alive. Except that’s not really a thing. He just always has my back, so he wasn’t about to miss this outing.

None us wanted to miss our buddy Bradley’s scheduled appointment with his shady hacker contact, even if we were coming off a grand adventure involving flames, a few near-death experiences, and other dramatic events.

Dot preferred to work locally, lived in a retirement community, and had invited Bradley to bingo night for the info handoff. All intriguing choices in the context of shadowy information freelancing.

Alex, Wembley, and I took just enough time to shower off the stink of smoke that had permeated our hair and clothes and were ready to roll again. Not that Bradley appreciated our sacrifice.

It was possible he’d relented because I looked so pitiful that he couldn’t say no. Having big adventures was hard on a lady, especially if they included a near-death by immolation experience and losing a few cups of blood to a zombie girl.

Yeah, that also just happened. Fire, smoke, blood loss. It had been a big day, even by my very skewed vampy standards. I hadn’t even slept. Contrary to popular opinion—primarily Alex and Wembley’s—sleep was a requirement for me, not a luxury, and if it was eight hours, all the better.

But sleep or no sleep, I was ready to go. Ready to tackle the next big adventure. Ready for exciting—

“Slow down with the coffee, Mallory.” Alex retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to me. “Just because caffeine doesn’t make you want to leap tall buildings, doesn’t mean you should drink an entire pot.”

“Hey, that happened one time,” Wembley grumbled. “A guy thinks he can fly one time, and some people never let him forget it. Besides, she sees ghosts and hears colors when she over-imbibes. Like that’s normal.”

“Traitor.” I stuck my tongue out at him. That was what happened when I spent too much time with my sentient sword Tangwystl. I started to pick up some of her more juvenile behaviors. Because I wasn’t immature all on my own…nope. At least I didn’t blow a raspberry. Tangwystl loved blowing raspberries.

Bradley watched the interplay between us with some concern. “Do you all have to go?” he asked with a skeptical look. “One person is backup. Three people is babysitting.”

When had Bradley gotten so smart? People smart, anyway. He’d been a brain as long as I’d known him. Because it wasn’t just the grandma hacker we wanted to meet. I think we all wanted to keep a bit of an eye on Bradley. Who was I kidding? Mostly we wanted to meet hacker grandma.

“No way I’m missing this,” Wembley said.

“If she’s going, I’m going,” Alex said, indicating me with a nod. Maybe he was turning more into my partner-partner than my sometimes-partner.

Boone, the hundred-pound bloodhound who also shared my house, nudged my hand with his cold nose. I absently rubbed his silky red ears. “Boone’s staying home. So we’re not all going.”

A quick examination of Boone’s eyes showed them to be less bloodshot than just an hour ago. He had more than a touch of magic, left over from a magical bond he’d had with his Djinn handler. Boone still mourned her loss. In his houndy head, her absence wasn’t improved by the fact that her killers had been brought to justice.

I’d been worried that without the bond, his magic would fade. But he still healed faster than a normal dog and still understood human speech, at least when he was around me.

Alex knelt next to Boone and examined his eyes. Then checked his gums. “He seems just about back to normal.”

Boone’s tail thumped vigorously in agreement. Apparently, smoke inhalation wasn’t enough to slow him down more than a few hours. Thank goodness. I thought at one point he wasn’t going to make it.

Boone sighed and wandered off to sleep—and drool—on either the guest bed or mine.

“Your dog is smarter than you,” Bradley said. He looked at us, in all our ragtag glory, and said, “You should take the night off.”

“But then you wouldn’t have any backup for your big bingo adventure.” Wembley waggled his full eyebrows. I almost missed the bushy version. He’d taken up with my mother recently and had assumed a more groomed appearance.

He’d also lost almost all of his paunch due to regular sword training sessions with Alex, something they’d done in the past but that Wembley had let slide in recent years.

I glanced at Alex, who was just finishing the last of an orange. I was pretty sure Alex could kick Wembley’s butt. Ex-Berserker Viking or not, Wembley didn’t have Alex’s dedication to training.

“Wembley, do you have a secret passion for bingo?” At his sheepish look, I added, “My mother would not approve.”

But he just shrugged. “Maybe you don’t know your mom as well as you think you do.”

Bradley sighed. “It’s time to go.”

While Alex washed his hands in the sink, he said, “Any chance I can convince you to reschedule, Bradley? We’re all beat, but we don’t want you to go alone.”

Bradley gave Alex a look that on anyone else would be “mildly displeased,” but in Bradley terms was “appalled.”

“Right. Silly question,” Alex said. Turning his attention to Wembley and me, he added, “And you guys can’t be convinced to let Bradley handle this one alone.”

Wembley and I shared a glance. I said, “You’re kidding, right?” And Wembley just shook his head at Alex’s silliness.

First, Bradley without backup just seemed wrong, even if he was meeting at a retirement center…and this was a regular contact…and he’d used this source before… Hm.

Okay, fine. Maybe Bradley didn’t really need backup, but Wembley and I refused to miss our chance to meet a dark-web cruising, retirement-home-living hacker grandma.

We were only human. Humanish. Enhanced people with human foibles.

Whatever. We had serious FOMO, and that was just the way we rolled.