You Can’t Teach an Old Dog New Tricks—But You Can Give Her a Makeover
by Sarina Dorie
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A knock came at the door.
The community was supposed to be gated, meaning that only my people would be the sort who would knock on the door after dark. But I didn’t know anyone in the new neighborhood yet, nor could I guess who would pay me a visit. I hated not having a door with a peephole. A tremor of anxiety coursed through me, but I ignored the sensation. After all, I hadn’t done anything in my new neighborhood to warrant any neighbor’s wrath. Not yet, anyway.
When I opened the door to the insistent rapping, dread settled in my core, heavier than rancid roadkill.
From the midnight hair styled into a Victorian coiffure and black, lace dress to the alabaster of her flawless skin, this woman screamed vamp. The fact that it was 6pm, already dark, but she still wore thick sunglasses–another clue. The brochure hadn’t said anything about the undead being permitted in my shifter community.
I fought the urge to slam the door in her face. The only thing stopping me was my grandmother’s tale of what happened when one unlucky dog was rude to a vampire.
It didn’t end well.
“Avon calling!” the woman said with an overly toothy grin that made me even more suspicious. “Greetings, sir or… madam! I am Evaline Sorrowcast from across the street.” She held a zebra-striped briefcase. “Is your… partner home?”
It always irked me that my buff arms and the excessive hair on my face that grew faster than I could shave it meant my gender was ambiguous—despite my love of pink dresses, Hallmark movies, and my ample cleavage—the latter being hard to see under my hairy chest.
“You are speaking with Rose, the lady of the house.” I glowered at her, my natural snark coming through. Despite the dangerousness of letting my attitude loose around a potentially mercurial creature, I could not tolerate certain insinuations. “However, just because I’m female, doesn’t mean I am interested in makeup.” I had come to accept my athletic, furry body for being beautiful the way it was—without the need for the enhancements society pushed on women. “I hope you aren’t implying I need makeup.”
“No one with an hourglass figure or hair as lustrous as yours needs makeup. But it doesn’t necessarily mean a modern woman who is confident with her appearance can’t indulge in it sometimes.” She was a smooth talker.
A sinking sensation in my gut told me this exchange was going to end poorly for one of us. The only thing worse than guarding my new territory from a vampire was trying to resist hypnotism that would force me to sign over everything I owned for cosmetics I didn’t need.
Or the real killer—hosting an Avon party in my home.
I stood my ground, blocking the entrance—not that I expected she could enter without an invitation anyway. But she certainly could use her powers to make me invite her in. I was careful to avoid eye contact—a tip I had read for avoiding mesmerism.
“I’m sorry. I’m very busy at the moment.” I put my hand on the door, noticing she had set her zebra-striped suitcase past the door jamb.
She hadn’t entered my home, but her weapons of destruction had. I would have to kick that suitcase out of the way—which would be considered rude. And the vampire might become so insulted she would attack me later when I was out on my midnight run.
Damn.
“I can always come back at a better time,” Evaline started, “but before I do, let me leave a housewarming present—”
A shrill, screeching bird interrupted her rehearsed monologue from the house of the witch next door. It had to be coming from the witch’s familiar, a noisy harpy. Evaline’s smile stretched tightly over flawless, smooth cheeks that no mortal could ever achieve. I tried to ignore the inhuman decibels of the pet harpy’s screeches. I had hoped that shifters would have less annoying pets than humans, but I had been wrong.
The harpy cries abruptly cut out, someone cursing in German in the sudden silence. I couldn’t tell if that was the witch swearing at the harpy familiar, or she was putting a pox on her enemy—which might not have been mutually exclusive. Harpies had toxic personalities.
I really hated birds. Passionately. But I wasn’t going to let that interfere with my new life. I was working hard to turn over a new leaf.
Before I could get a word in to tell Evaline she was barking up the wrong tree, she pounced. Figuratively.
Evaline waved a coupon at me. “As a housewarming present for my new neighbor, I would like to present a coupon for ten dollars off your first purchase.”
I crossed my slightly hairier than average arms, cynicism leaking into my tone. “Really? And how much do I need to spend in order to use this coupon?” I knew this scheme.
“You can spend as little or as much as you would like. By the way, we’re having a holiday sale of Devil’s Kiss Lipstick—which is just your color. Would you like to try a sample? I also have a sample of Risen From the Grave Moisturizer.”
A sample? My ears twitched.
She turned her zebra-print suitcase so that it lay flat, and she pressed a button. Four zebra-shaped legs snapped into place below it, turning the case into a table that she set on the doormat outside my door. Evaline popped the top of the suitcase open, extracting samples before I could refuse.
I didn’t need a moisturizer for mummified flesh like a ghoul or vampire would—nor did I have the desire to purchase something I didn’t need. So far, I didn’t feel any mesmerism at work. At least I didn’t think I did. I accepted the lipstick sample. Evaline shifted the suitcase-turned-vanity table so that I could see into a mirror as I applied the lipstick to my perfectly pouty lips. She was correct. It was my color. The red made my mouth look positively ferocious.
Evaline shifted the table so that it was partially turned toward her. Her reflection was absent from the mirror. “Would you like to try the moisturizer next?”
Did I really want to do this to myself? “I’ll try a sample.”
Immediately, I saw that the moisturizer wasn’t just for the undead. It made my skin feel as silky as a selkie’s untouched human flesh.
One raven eyebrow lifted above the frame of her glasses, a smirk to her blood-red lips. “If you buy twenty-five dollars’ worth of makeup, you get a free jar of our specialty waxing kit.”
It was probably meant as a dig at my werewolf lineage, but a free sample of wax was a good deal.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bite. How much is the lipstick and moisturizer?”
Evaline handed me a list of inventory and highlighted the prices of the items I’d sampled. I was careful to avoid contact with her skin, not wanting her to feel my warmth and pulse and become frenzied into bloodlust.
I scanned the prices of the non-sale items. They were outside of my budget. I was sticking to the sale items.
The annoying harpy next door began squawking loud enough to wake the dead. The witch began cursing. Hair on the back of my neck rose. My eyebrow twitched as I resisted the impulse to shove past Evaline, hunt that pampered birdbrain down, and end the noise pollution I had to put up with every single night.
But I understood there were consequences for such actions.
In my old neighborhood, my neighbor had taken pleasure in allowing his deranged cockatoo to drop bombs of excrement on my head enough times that I had lost control. One morning as I’d been leaving for ultimate frisbee, I launched into the air and caught the feathered pest midflight, tearing it in half… in front of an entire family of five who had witnessed the inhuman skills I usually saved for sports with fellow were-friends.
That neighborhood had realized I wasn’t just hirsute, but a werewolf. The graffiti on my door and constant harassment stating I was a danger to children had been the reason I’d moved to a more accepting community.
But life had constants no matter where one lived. Death, taxes, and annoying pets.
The grating screech of that harpy was more than I could tolerate. Evaline twitched. I could see she wasn’t a fan either.
“Invite me in, won’t you?” Evaline purred. “So that we don’t have to listen to that squawking.”
I stepped back and gestured for her to enter. She carried her case/table, setting it inside the threshold. The moment I closed the door and muffled the sound, I realized my mistake.
I had just invited a vampire into my home. What was I thinking? But that was the problem. I hadn’t been thinking. I’d been distracted by that damned harpy.
I shifted my stance into a defensive posture, waiting for Evaline to pounce. The saleswoman tallied my transaction, not seeming to notice. She twitched each time the harpy erupted into shrieks, though the present level of torture was an improvement from being outside.
The status of supernatural being came with preternatural abilities, such as enhanced hearing. It was a blessing except on occasions like this one, when it was a profound curse.
“So… I understand you just moved in.” She grinned, showing off immaculate teeth that looked ordinary on first glance, but as the edges caught the light, I could see they were sharp enough to cut through aluminum. Or werewolf bones. “Have you met your other neighbors? There’s a nice pack of werecats two houses over, though I do recommend staying away from their pet hell hound—he’s quite the biter. I suppose you’ll have no trouble picking out the family of mermaids with their blonde hair and fishy smell. They have a pet boa constrictor. It escaped last month and ate a little old swamp witch’s pet succubus. Such a tragedy.” Her tone sounded anything but sad.
The mer-family had to be in the house behind me with the saltwater swimming pool. I wasn’t super broken up about their pet eating someone’s succubus. Unlike vampires, succubae could enter houses at night without an invitation. They might not drink blood, but they wreaked havoc on quality sleep. As if the annoying harpy wasn’t enough of a problem.
“How did you know I was new to the neighborhood?” Since I had moved in during the day, Evaline would have been sleeping in her coffin when the moving truck had unloaded. I suppose news travelled fast in a shifter community.
“Well….” She cleared her throat. “I saw the lights on. It was obvious someone new had to be living here after I… sucked the blood of the last resident of this home.”
“You hunt in your neighborhood?” A lump of dread settled in my stomach. I edged back a few inches to get farther from her reach.
Being hunted by humans who treated me like a monster was bad enough. Now I had moved into a neighborhood where I had assumed I would be safe—only to find a monster worse than me.
I really wished I hadn’t invited her into my home.
“Not typically. Especially not my loyal customers.”
I read the threat there. She didn’t eat people who paid her. That meant I was only safe if I bought her products.
I told myself I had intended to do that anyway. I was safe, even if it cost me the price of a new lipstick every couple months. Still, I didn’t like being manipulated.
Evaline pouted, her bloodred lips resembling a cupid’s. “Unfortunately, that necromancer really left me no other choice. He would not muzzle his little, yappy undead mutt, and it always kept me up during the day.” She ran a hand over a porcelain cheek. “I have to get my beauty rest. My career depends on it.”
I could actually sympathize with that. I couldn’t count how many neighbors’ pets kept me up at night. Plus, I had no great love of necromancers. They were always resurrecting the dead—and corpse flesh attracted rats. I hated rats as much as yappy dogs and cockatoos that used my head as a target.
Evaline opened her mouth, about to say more, but the screeching harpy erupted again. That gave me time to think.
The moment the interruption subsided, I asked, “So all those jars of dogfood left in the cupboard that I found when I moved in, and the diamond studded collar—no one is coming back for it?” A little thrill of eager delight flushed through me.
“The previous owner’s family are dead—or undead. I expect you’ll find their corpses buried in the backyard, not that I’m suggesting you’re the sort who’s into digging up bones.” She was well-mannered enough not to suggest I fit that stereotype, but she definitely was walking that line.
She lowered her sunglasses. “I trust you don’t have any pets.” She inhaled as if trying to scent an animal on me. She leaned dangerously forward, close enough to bite if she wanted to.
I fought the urge to flinch away. I would not show fear. If she made a move, I would snap her skinny little neck.
If I was fast enough….
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m allergic.” Plus, I shed enough for two dogs. I could barely keep up with the vacuuming as it was.
She nodded in approval.
“And you?” I subtly sniffed back at her, only detecting the scent of earth and a hint of decay under the perfume in her cosmetics.
Her lips quirked upward. “A fish. She’s very quiet.”
“A merrow?” I imagined a vampire would at least have a flesh-eating mermaid as a pet.
“A goldfish. So vanilla, I know.” She closed her zebra-print case. “It might be worth mentioning that I turn into a wolf when I hunt. And I know all the good hunting spots—inside and outside this community.”
She turned into a wolf like Dracula. I was impressed. She wasn’t just a vampire, she was a shifter. That was why she was in this community. Her presence made more sense.
A shrill screeching erupted from the neighbor’s house, followed by an obnoxious mewling that set my nerves on edge. Evaline’s lips curled back in disdain. She must have realized her expression was less than friendly for a sales rep. She smoothed her face back into politeness and laughed daintily, though she wasn’t able to hide her feelings toward the witch with the harpy.
“Pet owners are the worst, aren’t they?” I chuckled.
“I agree.” She quirked an eyebrow upward. “She-wolves like us have to stick together.”
I nodded slowly, thinking it over. “It might be nice to have a hunting buddy someday.”
“I could sink my teeth into that idea. Assuming we have the same taste in prey.” Her eyes cut over toward the neighbor’s house.
I was fairly certain we did. Harpy was lean, low-fat meat. I heard that they tasted a lot like chicken. It wouldn’t matter if they had been drained of blood first—that would make it less messy.
“The full moon is soon.” She gazed at me over her sunglasses. “I would love for you to pencil me into your calendar for a girl’s night out.”
“I’d like that. Excuse me while I get my checkbook. And my calendar.”
Obviously, I didn’t completely trust her. I didn’t know her. But I could use a hunting partner.
And I would indulge in that moisturizer and lipstick. They would look ravishing with my new diamond collar, especially while on all fours during a girl’s night out.
Want more gripping stories by Sarina Dorie? Read “The Virtues and Vices of Vegan Vampires” In Horrific Scribes, May 2025 and “Dragon Pox” in Horrific Scribes, October 2025.