Free It Never Rhines but It Pours by Erin Evans

in.
    “I know what they are,” I snarled. “Do you have any idea how many calories are in pancakes ?” My voice was reaching its upper register.
    Cecily rubbed a tired hand over red-rimmed eyes. “Never mind, I need to get some food,” she said.
    I stopped. She sounded awful. “Okay,” I said slowly. “Where do you want to go?”
    She looked embarrassed. “Umm. You guys go get some breakfast and I’ll meet up with you.”
    I narrowed my eyes. “Where are you going?”
    She played with the fabric of her skirt. “I told you,” she didn’t explain, “I need some food.”
    “Oh my goodness!” I breathed. “You’re going to feed off someone!”
    She glared at me. “No. I’m not,” she said shortly.
    “Then where are you going?” Sarah wanted to know.
    Cecily stopped looking embarrassed and started looking exasperated. “Do you really need to know?”
    Sarah and I looked at each other. “Yes,” we both said.
    Cecily rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go visit a vampire contact in the city and get some blood.” As our eyes widened in horror, she added, “from a blood bank . Good grief you two. I’m not Dracula.”
    “But you are, kind of,” Sarah said. “I mean, for us, you’re the closest thing to Dracula I’ve ever met.”
    “But I don’t kill people,” Cecily sighed
    “I know.” It was my turn to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry. We’re just all out of sorts this morning.” We quickly agreed on a meeting place and Cecily did her disappearing act while Sarah and I drove down the road to an IHOP.
    Breakfast was torture. I adore pancakes. And waffles. And donuts. And bacon. And all those other fatty, high calorie breakfast foods that are so delicious. Sarah got giant, blueberry pancakes, with peanut butter and syrup, a side of bacon, hash browns, scrambled eggs and toast. I had oatmeal.
    I nursed my coffee and thought murderous thoughts. Sarah was digging in like a plow hand. If she made another “mmmmm” sound I was going to stab her with my fork. As it was, my oatmeal was probably loaded with quadruple the number of calories that my high-fiber, instant oatmeal had at home. I felt my butt growing larger as I thought about it.
    How in the world did my sister do it? She must have hollow legs. She also looked fresh and alert, like she’d gotten a good night’s sleep. Humph. Apparently she hadn’t had someone poking her in the back every time she turned over. Or snoring in her ear. She’d had time to apply heavy eye make-up, and her silver earrings matched the bracelet on her wrist.
    “I like your bracelet,” I said, to make conversation. What I really meant was “You’re overeating is making me sick with jealousy.”
    “Yeah?” she spread more peanut butter on her pancakes.
    “Yeah,” I tried not to snarl. “It’s pretty.” Translation: “I hope that pancake gives you thunder-thighs.”
    “Thanks,” she crunched on some bacon. I might have ground my teeth.
    Fortunately, Cecily chose that moment to appear. I slowly released my death grip on my fork and leaned back in the booth. She looked much better. There were still dark circles under her eyes, but they had lost the blood-shot, hungry look. On the one hand, I was glad. Hanging out with a hungry vampire is not a good idea. On the other hand, Eww! She had been drinking blood!
    The waitress brought the check and I gave her my credit card before Cecily could order anything to eat. I’d had about all I could take of watching people eat things that would make me fat if I dreamed about eating them.
    Our only agenda for the day was to go back to Pravus’ house and question him. Then we could go home. I was getting pretty homesick. I missed my privacy, and my kids, and Mark. I missed Mark a lot.
    We found our way back to the witch’s house and knocked on the front door. It was still early enough in the morning that if you had tried to cook an egg on the sidewalk it might have taken at least ten minutes to fry. In a couple of