You never knew me. She didn't say it out loud. Be nice, he's giving you a ride. Plus, he knows what you are and he didn't pull the curtains open at two o'clock in the afternoon.
"We can get going now," she said helpfully.
"Forget it. I need to shower and change." He rubbed his cheek, which rasped. "And shave. Well, maybe not shave. D'you want to shower first?"
"I don't need to."
He stopped in mid-yawn. "How come?"
"I don't sweat, pee, or even shed hair. Why would I shower?"
"Um… so you're not skanky and nasty?"
"Takes one to know one," she said, stung. Great. Half a day with him and she was regenerating to grade school. "Look, just go take your shower, all right?"
"All right, all right. You're definitely not an early morning vampire. Early evening, I mean." He stood and began unbuckling his belt, then stopped and stared at her. "Oh. I's'pose I should do this in the bathroom. I mean… I didn't think you'd care, but—"
"I'm dead, not asexual," she said dryly.
"Ah-ha!" he cried, startling her. He bounded (awkwardly; his pants were falling down) across the room and fumbled for the Barnes and Noble bag on the small table. He pulled out a small, red-bound book. American Heritage Dictionary, it read. "Now I can understand you and we can actually talk and stuff."
She burst out laughing; she couldn't help it. The effect on him was startling; his grin lit up his whole face, made his blue eyes twinkle. "There! I knew you'd do that sooner or later."
"Oh, come on. I'm not that much of a grump."
"Sweetie, you were grumpy before you died. Now… well, never mind. Asexual…" He started flipping pages. "Asbestos… ascend… ascetic…"
"You don't need that," she said, exasperated. "I can tell you what it means."
"And have you lording it over me all night? Forget it. Ah-ha! Asexual. According to this, it's an adjective and it means—"
"I know what it means."
"So if you're not asexual it means the opposite, which is sexual."
"This is an enthralling topic," she said, suddenly nervous, "but we have places to go."
He looked up from the dictionary and squinted at her. "So, do vampires have sex, or what?"
"Uh…"
"Holy cow, you're blushing! As much as you can."
"I am not."
"Oh, you absolutely are! Jeez, you're acting like you've never had sex as a vam—oh."
"Can you please," she asked desperately, "go take your shower?"
"Uh, sure. Won't be a minute." He was looking at her in a very curious way.
And he was right; she was blushing. Her face actually felt warm.
"Huh. That's kind of interesting."
"Interesting," she said thinly. "Exactly the word I was thinking."
"Well, you don't have to get all weird about it. It's just sex."
"And you're just an idiot," she snapped. "Go shower."
"Okay, okay."
He kicked the rest of the way out of his jeans and went into the bathroom without another word. She struggled not to stare at his ass, and almost succeeded.
Chapter 6
« ^ »
" WELL!" he said cheerfully, toweling his hair ten minutes later.
Annoyingly, he hadn't put his shirt back on. At least he was wearing jeans. Tight, faded jeans that clung to his—
"That was super awkward. Oh, well. Saddle up, Andy, let's hit the trail."
"It's Andrea, and we have to… urn… stop first."
"Huh? How come?"
"I have to eat."
"What?"
"I said, I have to eat." She was, in fact, starting to feel a little desperate. Not to mention horribly embarrassed. "And soon."
"Oh. Oh! Right. Eat. Except you don't mean eat, do you?"
"Soon," she repeated.
"What's the rush?"
"Haven't you been listening?" she cried. "I'm thirsty all the time. And the longer I go without, the more… desperate… I become. It's—"
"You get stupid," he said bluntly. "That's what you don't like. You get totally obsessed with chomping and you can't think about anything else. And you fucking hate it, don't you?"
"How analytic of you," she said, calming… the worst was over. She had dreaded the telling of it more than anything else. And he was finding out all her secrets. It was alarming… but kind of comforting, too. "And you're right. I fucking hate it. And… it's been a while since my last… I mean, there was you, but I managed to stop myself, and…"
"Well, how much do you need?"
"I never measured," she snapped.
"Like, a pint? A half-pint? A gallon? What?"
"Daniel, what difference does it make?"
"Well." He cleared his throat. "The reason I was asking was, you could chomp on me again."
"Oh, no!" She couldn't recall ever being so shocked. And gratified. He was so kind. He had always been kind. "No, I couldn't do that to you."
"Don't get me wrong, I'm not volunteering to be the horse led to slaughter—"
"Sheep."
"Not that, either. And I don't want you to, like, drain me. But you could have a little. Holy shit, what the hell happened to your mouth?"
She clapped her hands over her lips. His words had brought out her fangs; she was very much afraid she had started to drool. "Nothing," she mumbled. "Let's talk about something else."
He came closer, trying to get a better look; she backed away. "That is so cool! And scary. It's like all of a sudden you sprouted about twenty more teeth."
"Let's change the subject."
"Okay, but don't say I never gave you anything." But he sounded relieved, and she knew at once he had been secretly hoping she wouldn't take him up on it.
He wasn't afraid of her, exactly, but he was cautious. She thought it was a very healthy reaction.
"Let's get out of here," she said, still muttering around her fingers, "before I change my mind. Don't forget your dictionary."
"YOU know, if you'd told me last week that I'd be in a bar trying to help a vampire suck some poor guy's blood, I'd have said you were on drugs."
"The night is young," she said, staring into her wine.
"So, uh, how do you usually do this?"
"I usually skulk in a dark alley until someone tries to rob or rape me. Then I assault them. Then I sulk. Then—"
"I think I get it," he said.
"But with you hovering over me like an overprotective linebacker, I'm not sure at all how this is going to work. Can't you just… wait for me in the car, or something?"
"And leave you alone? In here?" He looked around, clearly appalled. It really was a dive, with dirty floors and the pervasive odors of beer, sweat, and urine.
But she could also smell blood under the rest of it, which told her this was the right place to go trolling. Violence was no stranger here.
"It's perfect."
"No way, Andy."
"Andrea," she growled, and drained the rest of her wine. "Well, then, I don't know how we—oof!"
"Shorry, little lady," the hulk behind her slurred. She craned her neck, and craned it some more… he was big. Easily six foot four, possibly a hair over. And broad. And smelly. He was wearing a filthy t-shirt, filthier jeans that might have once been blue, and Doc Martens. "Gut stampers," her dad used to call them. "Buy m'drink?"
"I think you're supposed to buy her a drink," Daniel said.
"You lookin' f'r a fight?"
"You lookin' for a shower?"
"I would love to buy you a drink," Andrea said, glaring at Daniel. "Possibly five. Have a seat."
"Oh, Andrea, come on!"
"Andeuh? S'pretty name."
"Daniel, will you stay out of this?"
"Bet y' got a pretty l'il pussy, too."
Daniel stood so quickly his chair tipped. "Okay, that's it."
"He's perfect!" she cried rapturously. The perfect bar, and now the perfect entree. Drunk, obnoxious, and all the knuckles on his left hand were sc
raped—he'd already been in a bar fight. It was doubtful he'd picked on someone his own size. A glance around the bar confirmed there was no one his own size.
She stood also, fumbled in her jeans, remembered she had no money, then fumbled in Daniel's jeans.
"Hey, quit! That tickles!" She pulled a couple of fives out, dropped them on the bar, then turned to her O-negative in shining armor.
"Why don't we go for a walk? Get some fresh air?"
His brow wrinkled as he tried to decipher her request. "Nnnnn… walk? Don' wanna walk… wanna stay here n' talk t' you."
"You can bring your beer," she suggested, and that was good enough.
Annoyingly, Daniel stomped behind them as they left the bar. Smelly slung an arm over her shoulders as she half-led, half-carried him around the back of the building.
"Daniel… if you could just wait in the car, I'll be right with—"
"No way. I'm not leaving you alone with this—this—ugh!"
"Don't get too cocky," she muttered. She was glad Daniel couldn't see Smelly was using the opportunity to grab and paw at her left breast, the only one he could reach. "You're about as articulate as he is."
"I can't believe this is how you spend your nights," he whined, trudging after them. "It's so bogus."
"As opposed to the fun-filled nights I could spend with Dictionary Boy," she snapped. "Don't judge me. I'm doing the whole neighborhood a community service. Instead of picking another fight or indulging in a little felony rape, he'll sleep the rest of the night and stagger home in the morning, hungover, violently ill, and remembering nothing."
"So, getting bitten by a vampire is the same as having six tequila shots?"
"Hilarious. I have laughed. My point—ow!"
"What?"
"Nothing." She glared at her boozy meal, who was leering at her with bleary satisfaction. What he doubtless considered "being playful" was painful as hell. Did he not understand nipples were attached? "My point is, he won't be picking any more fights tonight, bullying women, committing date rape… none of it."
"Can't we just hit him over the head? We'll get the same result. Right down to the headache!"
"Daniel, I have to eat." She said it as simply as she could, because to her, it was simple. She was too much a coward to end herself, and too hungry to starve herself. She had chosen to live… after a fashion. This was her means.
She seized her knight in shining platelets, bent him back…
"Whu?"
… and sank her teeth into his jugular. Took her a second to find it; he had an extremely thick neck.
"Jesus! You're doing it now? Right this second?" Daniel jumped in front of her—them—arms spread wide, shielding her from passersby. Not that there were any at this hour, this location. "Andy, we're not even all the way out of the ally yet!"
"Grgle," she said, or something like it.
"Purrrrrrteeeeeeeeee…" her knight in shining plasma slurred, slipping into unconsciousness as easily as a child slid down a slide. "Mmmmm… purrrrrrrr… gaaaaahhh."
Daniel had a hand over his eyes. "They're never going to believe this at the reunion."
Chapter 7
« ^ »
"HEE! That was a piece of cake." She stumbled and Daniel steadied her. "Course, it usually is… piece of cake I mean… hee… I miss cake…"
"Are you all right? You look kind of… uh… flushed, actually."
"Rush of blood," she said giddily. "Straight to the head! Zoom! Do not pass go, do not collect any wooden stakes."
Daniel was peering worriedly down at her. He was so big, he was so strong. She snuggled into his manlike—manful? manly?—arms, so gorilla-like in their soothing strength. Ahhhh.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again. "You really don't seem like yourself. At all."
"You wanta see something super supercool? Like comicbook cool? I used to watch Wonder Woman alia time when I was a kid."
"Uh…"
"Watch this!" She straightened out of his embrace and lurched toward the streetlight. It was one of the old-fashioned wooden ones, with a halo of moths and mosquitoes circling the globe at the top. She threw her fist and hit the wooden pole dead-on (a good trick, since at the moment, the pole was revolving lazily, as was the street, and Daniel's head). It shuddered and splinters jumped away from it, pattering to the street. She, of course, didn't feel a thing.
She hit it again, and it sloooooowly tipped over with a groan, hitting the street and bouncing up about a foot, then settling back and rolling over the curb.
"Holy shit!" Daniel just about screamed.
"I told you it was cool," she said. "Could you stop spinning around like that? It's annoying."
"I'm standing still. Uh, don't knock over any more light poles, okay? Are you sure—wait a minute!"
"Okay, but only a minute."
"That guy was three sheets to the wind, and you drank his blood—you're drunk!"
"I know you are," she said cleverly, "but what am I?"
"Great. A drunk, insanely strong vampire wandering the streets of—of whatever town we're in. With me."
"Drunken," she corrected muzzily. "And I am not."
"You totally are! Does this happen a lot?"
"I thought I was high on life," she said, and giggled. "Guess I was high on O-neg and Jack Daniel's." She laughed again, harder. It was all so stupid! And funny! And stupid! "He was so silly! And smelly! He thought he was gonna get a little, but instead I got a little. Ha!"
"Look, let's just—go back to the car, okay? This giddy, happy side of you is kind of freaking me out. We'll get to the car and we can make it all the way to the Cities before the sun comes up."
"No," she said.
"Uh… what?"
"No. You shouldn't be with me. You should leave me here and drive away as fast as you can. Put that big smelly foot to the metal."
"It's not smelly," he said, "and you're talking crazy." He reached for her arm but she shook him off like a fly.
"Go away!" she shouted.
He didn't go away. Instead, he hurried after her. "What the hell's gotten into you now? What's the problem?"
"Just… leave me alone." She weaved unsteadily down the street. The mood she was in, if those damned streetlights didn't stop wobbling, she was knocking them all over. So there!
"C'mon, Andy, will you come to the car already? You're totally screwing up our plan." She felt his fingers brush her elbow and whirled on him like a cat. She could tell from the way the color fell out of his face that all her teeth were showing.
"Leave. Me. Alone."
He rallied quickly, she noticed grudgingly; she'd give him that much. Too dumb to stay scared. It was endearing, yet irritating. "What's the matter with you?" he demanded. "Well… I mean… what else is bothering you?"
"I'm no good, Daniel," she said, her anger abruptly shifting to racking sobs. "I have to drink blood to survive, get it?" He reached for her again and this time she let him. "I'm the worst thing there is to be… a vampire! Pull over at lunchtime," she begged, "and open the trunk."
He winced away from her, horrified. "I couldn't do that, Andy—"
"And! Reel Uh!" she screamed into his face.
"Okay," he said, rubbing his ear. "Now, come on. You're not bad, Andy, you're just—in a bad situation. Yeah. And it's so totally not your fault, it should be a crime. In fact," he said, warming to his subject, "it was a crime! Like, murder, anyone? You're just doing the best you can. And you said yourself you only go after scumballs. You're—you're doing a community service! Yeah, that's it, they oughta give you a friggin' medal. Now—now quit crying, all right?"
"Sorry," she muttered.
"Come on. Let's get to the car. You'll feel better when we get closer to St. Paul."
"I doubt it." Did vampires get hangovers? She was afraid she was about to find out. "Thanks for listening to my hysterical ravings."
"Aw, that's okay. It's kind of nice to hear you raise your voice once in a while. You're a pretty cool custom
er, y'know?"
"I used to think so." She sighed, fell into step beside him, and made a conscious effort not to rest her head on his shoulder.
They found his Intrepid and climbed into it. When she refused to buckle her seat belt ("Honestly, Daniel, what could possibly happen to me?") he leaned across her and belted her in. His chest pressed briefly against her shoulder, and his breath, redolent of spearmint gum, tickled her ear.
"So!" he said cheerfully, starting the car and playfully racing the engine. "We're off to see the Wizard! I figure we got about seven hours of darkness left. Plenty of time."
"That's true," she said, cheering up. "I'll see the new vampire queen soon, so I probably won't have to worry about anything much longer."
"What are you talking about?" He pulled into traffic after checking blind spots she didn't know existed. For a happy-go-lucky laid-back type, he was fanatically careful behind the wheel. "Won't worry about what?"
"Well, the new queen probably won't want any baby vampires around."
"Baby vam—what does that mean?"
She was momentarily surprised, then remembered he really didn't know anything at all. "Sorry, I thought you knew. She'll kill me, of course. All the young ones. I mean, we're not much use to her, and it's a great way to get her point across. So I'm dead meat. Again," she added cheerfully.
He nearly drove into the stoplight. "What?"
"It's not like killing a real person," she said, trying to soothe him. She should have guessed he'd take power-killing entirely the wrong way. "I've already got a death certificate, remember." She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "Yep, she'll take one look at me and know I'm useless to her and—glllllkkkkkk!" She drew her finger across her throat. "Sayonara, sweetheart."
"Jesus Christ!" Daniel yelled, which nearly made her throw up. "Are you insane? You're taking a trip to see a vampire who you're pretty sure is gonna kill you?" He slammed on the brakes. In fact, he stood on them. The car shrieked like a cat and the cords stood out on his neck as he wrestled with the wheel. Her breath was cut off (big deal) as the seat belt locked. Hmm. Maybe it was a good thing he'd belted her in… otherwise she'd probably be skimming the road like a tiddledywink about now.
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