Miricles and Murder (Kurloz X reader)

Part 7

You are currently sitting at the dining room table with Vanessa and the cook—another human who tells everyone to call him Chad, and who likes to pretend he's a dangerous die-hard when he can't help but feed the stray cats in the backyard with scraps from the table. He wears his dyed blue hair in a Mohawk and is always in his apron, wearing the garment like a badge earned in honor. He is also one of the few humans who isn't easily influenced by the views of society and had calmly held a conference with an angry dragon (though in human form) without breaking a sweat. After that little episode you hired him on the spot.

Right now you are just doing a rundown on the status of the house's supplies; making lists of whatever might be getting low and seeing if there are any complaints that you might be able to rectify. Vanessa's twins are playing under the table with their toys, acting for all intents and purposes as if they are normal human children...albeit, children with supernatural strength and energy, no natural defenses against the sun, and the occasional need to bite. Luckily their need for blood won't actually kick in until they transition, which you guess might be around age twenty or so—information which has proved to greatly relieve their nervous mother.

"Well, for the moment I can't think of anything we'll need that badly. It can all wait until tomorrow, when the sun is up and there are people around." Chad scratches his throat, looking worriedly out the window at the setting sun.

"Don't be ridiculous. I can get whatever we need tonight, and avoid the midday rush. Besides, you know how I hate shopping with all those unfamiliar people around."

"Which I never could understand, considering how once you're here you're willing to be all helpful and kind to whoever walks through your doors."

"The people who come here need me. The people out there are just assholes."

Chad laughs in that throaty way he has and kicks his head back. "Be that as it may, I'd still rather you didn't go out alone at night. They still haven't found the ones doing all the killing, and everyone here'd miss you if you went missing. It's safer to go during the day. Either that, or you could send someone else to shop." He shrugs.

"Are you offering?" He grimaces. "I thought so. And it would be safer for me than Vanessa, Kurloz can't leave the property without being subjected to the threat of the local authorities, Lukas is as hopeless as you when it comes to getting food because he becomes sidetracked by the meats and forgets everything else, and Fia, as antisocial as she is, would likely hyperventilate from the crowds. I'm the only current and viable option we have."

"I know, I know. I'm just worried about you, girl. Last time you met a possible killer you pulled him right into your home." He holds his hands up defensively when you glare at him. "I'm not saying it was a bad thing, ____. That troll is actually a helpful addition to the little family here as much as some of us hate to admit it—and it's actually rather fun to watch him and Lukas get on each other's nerves. But oftentimes those killers play that kind of helpless card and you're likely to be drawn in like a fly to a lantern." You sigh, knowing he's right.

"Alright, then. I'll go during the day sometime—and you're coming with me, since you want me to be so safe. I doubt there are very many serial killers who would find you an easy target." He groans, but you ignore him and head off outside. The sun is only a few moments from setting, and you feel a wave of excitement hit you. It has become routine for you and Kurloz to spend time together each night, meeting in the early evenings. Yet despite the excitement you rub your eyes tiredly. After the emergency report this morning of a house nearby burning to the ground, following the murder of the only occupant inside, you have been unable to sleep more than a few hours. The homicide had been horrendous, the body mutilated by the killer stealing its hand. Some instinct told you that it was important, but you hadn't known the man personally. Still, the unsettled feeling refused to leave.