The Vampire of Tinkerfall (Elysium #3)

Bonus Short: The Inspection

EMERGENCY.

Trinket froze when the text came in, just steps away from the convenience store. Her eyes went wide, and she shoved the phone back into her pocket, hightailing it home. An emergency from Booker Larkin more than likely meant something was on fire. Or loose in the apartment. Or possibly dead.

In record time, she reached the apartment building and hurried up the stairs. She was hardly able to catch her breath as she ignored what she hoped were imaginary rats on the railing and stumbled through the door.

There was no smoke. That was a good sign. Closing the door, she tugged off her mittens and glanced about the living room, searching for signs of distress. She hadn't gotten a chance to clean up after the all-nighter she and Booker had pulled. Books were piled high on the coffee table and couch, some having toppled over onto the floor. There were stacks of dirty plates sprinkled with Pop-Tart crumbs and teacups stained brown by Booker's obnoxiously strong black tea mixed with Red Bull.

"I need to get him to start eating better," she mumbled to herself as she unwound her scarf and unbuttoned her coat. Although, admittedly, she was the one who'd gotten him hooked on the Pop Tarts.

"Trinket!"

Speak of the devil. There was a loud crash, followed by frantic cursing. The door to Booker's room flew open, and he came rushing out, his arms filled with jars containing organs and deformed animals.

"Booker, what on earth is happening?" she asked, catching a jar that held a two-headed snake before it fell to the floor.

"Apartment inspection," he wheezed before running to the couch.

Furrowing her brow, she followed after him. "Apartment inspection? What is that?"

Setting the jars down on the coffee table, he threw the books off the couch and then removed the cushions. "You don't know what an apartment inspection is?" he asked as he stuffed jars into the nooks and crannies.

"I'm only eighteen, Booker. I lived in a suburban development with my family my whole life before I got sent away to the hospital. I really don't have that much worldly knowledge aside from how many pills an orderly can stuff down your throat without putting you into a coma."

Replacing the cushions, he attempted to conceal the jars. The couch now looked rather lumpy and uncomfortable, and more than a little suspicious. "An apartment inspection is when the landlord comes through and checks to be sure we aren't destroying the place."

He turned to her and let out a frustrated groan when he saw the jar still in her hand. "They can just pop in out of nowhere?" she asked as he took the jar and tucked it as far under the couch as he could. "Without any notice?"

"No, they give you at least a day or two's notice. I kind of forgot."

Of course he did. If she didn't keep track of the bills, they'd be shivering in a dark, cold apartment. His genius was undeniable, but his attention to adult responsibilities was rather lacking for a twenty-one-year-old.

"All right, when are they coming?" she asked as she followed him into his room.

As he frantically scooped up the mechanical arms and legs lying on his work table and stuffed them into various drawers, she collected the empty Red Bull cans. "I got a call a few minutes ago. They'll be here within the hour," he replied, tucking a metal finger into one of his sneakers.

"All right, not ideal, but I'll do what I can to tidy up. I mean, you did hire me as your live-in assistant. It is part of my job."

"Cleaning is not exactly what I'm worried about."