by Heidi Lowe
Dallas didn't seem at all fazed. Her smile was as big as ever, as she strutted toward me, clutching her helmet under her arm. She really was a sight for sore eyes. Her taut body looked fantastic in tight, black leather; the fabric accentuated the best parts of her figure.
The growling and barking continued. Teeth were bared, while some of the smaller dogs and the cats cowered in the corners of their cages. Even the one parakeet we had was squawking.
"I've never seen them react like this before," Raymond said. He fetched a handful of treats from the cupboard and pushed them through the flaps. Gradually the animals started to calm down.
"Were you Cruella de Vil in your past life?" I said to her, perplexed.
She laughed coolly. "Animals don't like me. And, what can I say, I don't like them much either. Maybe they can sense that."
"They do say animals are good judges of character... Just saying."
"The question is, are you?" She raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"Probably not. How did you find me?"
"I have my ways."
This shouldn't have fascinated me, but it did. There was something romantic about someone launching a search to find a woman.
"Well, what are you doing here, seeing as you just admitted to not liking animals? You're not here to adopt."
"I wanted to take you to dinner."
Raymond spun around, the dirtiest smile on his lips, then turned back to take care of the animals.
I felt my cheeks heat up. "You do know I'm at work, don't you?"
"So? We've all gotta eat, right?"
"Yes, but..." What? What was there to say but yes or no? I'd thought I would never see her again, and here she was, at my place of work, asking me out. Bitchy biker babe wanted to go on a date with me.
"Why should I go out with you?"
"Because I'm fun, and your life is lacking that at the moment."
"You don't know anything about my life."
She leaned in closer, I saw her eyes hover on my lips. "Well, have dinner with me and tell me all about it."
There were so many reasons to say no, but in that moment I couldn't think of any. After all, it was just an innocent dinner, and she, merely an acquaintance I wasn't even sure I liked or not.
"All right, I'll go out with you. But I get to pick the restaurant." And then I said something wholly unexpected, something for which I had no explanation beyond that I was my own worst enemy, and must have still hated my girlfriend deep down. "Do you like Caribbean food? I know a great place not too far from here. I know the owner."
Yep, perhaps the stupidest thing I'd ever done. And I couldn't stop myself.
Fixing my hair into a loose bun was the last step in preparing for my non-date. Yet despite the simplicity of the style, I'd been trying to get it right for the last ten minutes. Trying to make it look as though you didn't give a damn, that you hadn't made an effort, was actually really hard work!
Finally finished, I checked myself out in the mirror. I couldn't help feeling like a walking reminder of my failed relationships. The diamonds in my ear, from Hilarie. The dark blue dinner jacket and cowboy boots, bought with Jean's money. Hell, even the perfume had been a gift from her. And the hairstyle itself, well, an ex when I was seventeen, who'd gone on to become a successful makeup artist on film sets, was the first person to tell me the style suited my face to a T. The jeans had been in my collection for years, and I was surprised they still fit.
I grabbed my purse, checked that I had my keys, my credit card, and my cell, then I headed downstairs.
"Hi." Jean appeared at the bottom of the stairs, just as I suspected she would. I'd been silently praying that I could sneak out unnoticed, and not have to answer any awkward questions.
"Hey."
"You look lovely, as always. Going anywhere special?"
"Just out with friends," I said, aiming for casual.
"Oh, that sounds like fun. To a club, or..."
"Actually, I was, erm, I thought I would take them to Island Spice. I mentioned it to them. They wanted to check it out."
"I'll let Nadine know, and she can put it on my tab."
"No, you don't have to do that." It was bad enough I was lying through my teeth, going there with another woman. I couldn't possibly have her foot the bill for the dinner too.
"Really, it's not a problem."
"We can pay our own bill, Jean," I said, a little agitated. "Hey, erm, you're not going up there tonight, are you?" You see, in the few hours since Dallas and I had arranged the non-date, I'd had time to freak out, have a total meltdown of nerves. Now regret weighed heavily on me. I didn't want Jean to see us. It was a terrible idea. But if I could get her to stay home tonight...
She didn't answer straight away, just gave me a curious look, as though she was trying to decipher me and my strange question. I sounded as suspicious as a vegetarian in a butcher's!
"I wasn't planning to," she said eventually, still scrutinizing me. She knew I was lying to her. She would have been foolish if she didn't. What the fuck was wrong with me?
"Okay, well, I'll see you tonight. I won't be back late." I started for the door. She seized me by the wrist, stopped me, then planted a very slow, lingering kiss on my cheek. If her intention was to make me go weak at the knees, to make my lips water for a real kiss, or make my panties wet with thoughts of those lips traversing my body, she'd succeeded. She still had that power over me. If she'd asked me to stay home with her, there was a good chance that I would have.
"Enjoy your night, honey. I hope your friends like the place."
There was something in her words that unsettled me. Like they had a knowing tone to them. She couldn't read minds, I had to keep reminding myself of that. But she was intuitive beyond that of any mere mortal. And she knew me better than I knew myself.
I worried my dishonest butt all the way to the restaurant.
I could still feel her kiss on my cheek; her scent still lingered in the air on the cab ride to the restaurant. I found myself wondering why I was on my way to meet another woman, when someone so divine was waiting for me at home. Just for me. Happy and ready to lavish upon me the love I'd always craved.
There was no kiss like hers, no touch, no smell. Everything that I loved about her was unique to her, and no amount of time spent with edgy biker chicks would ever change that.
It would always be Jean. Maybe that was why I was here, trying to battle against my addiction to her, in a vain bid to appear independent. Sleeping in separate beds, me moving out, and now these clandestine rendezvouses with another woman... Clearly I had something to prove.
Dallas was already waiting for me in the parking lot, seeing to her bike. Although she wasn't wearing the full biker getup, her pants were leather, and she sported her usual jacket. Boy, did this girl like leather. And leather certainly agreed with her.
It should have been a turn on for me, and under normal circumstances it would have been. But not tonight. Not in this setting. Not with Jean's lips still imprinted on my cheek, like a scar.
"Hey," Dallas greeted me. "I could have picked you up."
"I think my days on motorbikes are behind me," I said with a little laugh. "Hey, listen, I was thinking we should try another restaurant. There's a Thai place just down the road–"
She shook her head, rubbed her stomach. "No way, dude. I'm in the mood for Caribbean now."
"But–" I started, but was silenced by a swift and unexpected kiss.
"Maybe we'll do Thai another night, if you play your cards right." She winked, grabbed my hand and led me to the entrance.
This is such a bad idea, my inner voice chorused. What if someone saw that kiss? The staff know who I am – it's only a matter of time before it gets back to Jean.
"Lissa, hi." Nadine's big, blinding smile greeted us the moment we stepped in. Her eyes drifted down briefly, saw us holding hands, and came back up to meet mine, still wearing her smile, but altered now, brimming with confusion.
I snatched my
hand away from Dallas. My heart was thumping so hard I thought the whole restaurant could hear it.
"Table for two, please," Dallas said.
"Of course. Right this way."
I didn't have to explain myself to Nadine, I knew that, but I felt I had to. Only problem was, whatever she thought this was, it was exactly that. I was the girlfriend of her business partner, and I was on a date with someone else. No explanation could make that sound any less despicable.
A wrung my hands once we were seated, glancing around at the staff. The guilty mind thinks everyone is watching them, but in my case several pairs of eyes were on me, however fleeting. Their looks of disgust weren't imaginary.
"We should go someplace else."
"Why? I like it here. Nice atmosphere. And I'm loving the tunes." Dallas did a little dance, and drew even more attention to our table.
By now I knew I was the color of a tomato. What devil had possessed me to go through with this? Only then did it occur to me how embarrassing this would be for Jean. That hadn't been my intention, but just by showing up here with Dallas, it undermined her in every way. I wanted to die.
"You don't understand. My girlfriend is part owner of this place. We shouldn't have come here."
Dallas grinned. "So why did we? Ah, was someone trying to make their old lady jealous? Huh?"
"It's not like that. I don't know why I suggested it. It was stupid. Can we leave?"
"No, we should stay. Is your girlfriend here? I'm totally up for playing that game."
"No, but her partner is, and everyone else here knows me."
My mistake had been in telling the truth. Because my predicament seemed to only excite Dallas. She wasn't going to budge, no matter how much I pleaded. Thankfully, Jean was staying at home tonight, otherwise I, and Dallas too, would have been toast. Vampires by their very nature were bloodthirsty – adding jealousy to the mix was asking for trouble.
I started to relax a little once we'd put in our orders.
"So what's the story with you and the old lady? Is it an open relationship?"
"Not exactly." Not at all! There was nothing open about it. I was the one who'd insisted on exclusivity, yet I was breaking it.
"Wow, so you're a cheat? I knew that whole innocent look was a ruse. You're getting more interesting by the minute, Liz."
"I'm not cheating on her. We're having dinner...as friends."
"Oh, sure, "friends"." She chuckled, broke off a piece of fried dumpling, and threw it into her mouth. "And you stick your tongue down all of your friends' throats?"
I cut her a look. "Keep your voice down."
"Sorry," she said, sounding anything but. "Your girlfriend must be pretty well off to have this place."
"She does all right," I said offhandedly. There was something distasteful about talking about Jean or her money with this girl. And wasn't the whole idea of going out with Dallas to live a life separate from Jean?
We didn't have to wait long for our food. The dishes had barely hit the table before Dallas dived in. She attacked the food like she'd been on a month-long fast! I'd never seen anyone eat so energetically.
"When was the last time you ate?" I laughed while I watched her, thoroughly entertained. The complete opposite of Jean, who never ate anything. Usually I was the one being watched devouring my food, as Jean enjoyed the meal by proxy.
"I have a big appetite. I won't apologize for it."
"I'm not asking you to. But you might get indigestion if you don't slow down."
She wasn't listening. She might as well have been on that date alone, for all the conversation she provided.
Her plate was almost empty, and I hadn't even reached the halfway point on mine. Even Petr was no match for her.
I reached for my glass of wine, then froze. Stopped moving, stopped chewing, stopped breathing. The pounding of my heart was all I could hear in that moment, as my gaze landed on the entrance...and the person standing by it.
She saw me when I saw her.
"Oh my God," I said, panic-stricken. Caught in the act. The glass almost slipped from my shaking hand.
"What? What is it?" Dallas questioned, and turned around to see what had spooked me.
The events that followed, I knew, would haunt me for a long time.
Jean stormed over to our table, eyes fully bloodshot, the jet black pupils dilated. I thought she was coming for me, but Dallas stood up to meet her face to face.
I'd only seen her fangs twice, and both times terrified me. When they sprung out this time, it was no different. The other restaurant guests shrieked, cried out and scattered from their tables, running for their lives. Some left the building altogether, abandoning their belongings, while others watched on from what they must have thought was a safe distance. I wished I could have fled too, but this was my mess to deal with.
I feared for Dallas, feared that any moment now she would be sucked dry all because of my stupid, childish games. This was by far the angriest I had ever seen Jean, and it both terrified and invigorated me to know the depths of her jealousy.
"What the hell are you doing in here...with her?" Jean demanded, her voice deep, dark and sinister.
"What does it look like, bloodsucker?"
"Dallas, stop!" I pleaded. Was this girl insane, or did she have a death wish?
Jean's chest rose and fell violently with every furious breath she took. Any second now she would leap on Dallas, devour her like a piece of meat. I didn't know what to do.
"You think you can come in here and sit in my restaurant as though you were invited?"
Dallas laughed, I panicked. "I don't need an invitation. That's more your style."
"I should tear your head from your disgusting little body." Her fangs seemed to sharpen as she made her threats. The crowd cowered, sank further into the corners of the room. I saw Nadine among them, watching on horrified, no doubt mourning the death of her business. Because who would eat here after this ordeal?
"Jean, please don't," I said, reached out a shaky, hesitant hand to touch her arm, to remind her that I was there. That whatever she did to this girl would not be without consequences.
She ripped her arm away. "Don't!" Now those fiery eyes were on me, and I was ready to crap myself. "You brought this beast to my restaurant. You think this is a game?"
"No, I...I–"
"Get your things. I'm taking you home." There was no room for negotiating in that command. It didn't matter that I hadn't finished my meal. I grabbed my purse.
"Maybe she doesn't want to go with you, you ancient bitch! We're still eating."
"I'm going with her," I jumped in. I prayed that this was enough to avoid the bloodbath. I shoved Dallas aside, for her own good, and stood in front of my girlfriend. I needed her to see me, to see that she was scaring me. "Jean, let's go."
She blinked a couple of times and then her eyes returned to normal. It was as if she had finally seen me. The fangs retracted shortly after. I think the whole restaurant along with me breathed a sigh of relief.
"Please accept my apologies, everyone. Your meal will be on the house," she announced before hurrying out of the restaurant as quickly as she could, while I trailed behind her.
TWELVE
She didn't regret the anger, nor the threats. How could she regret what was second nature to her, almost as natural as drawing breath? She wouldn't even have regretted doing those things she'd threatened to do to the beast who had so brazenly stood before her, in her own establishment.
It was seeing the fear in Lissa's eyes that pained her. She never wanted to see that again, and especially not by her own hand. It, like so many other things, would haunt her dreams forever.
But how could Lissa not have expected such a reaction?
She was too furious to speak to her the whole journey home; and Lissa, too, didn't volunteer to start any type of conversation. They both knew, though, that once they reached their destination, once there was no way of avoiding the confrontation, they would have to face each
other. The journey was their opportunity to think.
"You really want to hurt me, don't you? By any means necessary." At least she'd had the decency to close the front door behind them before she let loose.
Sandra, who had come out to greet them, quickly slunk back whence she'd come, before anyone saw her. This sounded like the type of argument she didn't want to be present for.
"I did at first, but when we got there I realized how much of a bad idea it was."
"Do you sit around thinking up the worst possible ways to destroy me? To crush my soul, Lissa?" This wasn't just the anger talking – she was genuinely interested in knowing what sort of person she was dealing with.
"No!" Lissa yelled, and without warning, burst into tears. "Why are you so mad? I was having dinner with her, that's all."
Her heart ached like crazy, seeing those tears. She'd caused so many of them for this girl over the years. Foolishly she'd imagined that moving here would have quelled them. But instead they'd become more frequent. For both of them.
"How can you ask me that? You bring that...that animal into my restaurant, you flaunt her in front of my staff. How did you expect me to react?"
"I don't know. And she's not an animal, she's my friend."
"They don't have friends who aren't from their own pack. She was using you to get to me."
Jean wasn't prepared for the expression of utter bewilderment that appeared on Lissa's face. It was too raw to be fake. Could it have been that she didn't know? But...how?
"What are you talking about?"
"You really don't know what she is?" Jean said, watching her carefully. But Lissa's frown only deepened. At least the tears had ceased, temporarily. "Your new friend is a common dog. Or, if we want to be politically correct, a werewolf."
She watched the usually colorful face of her girlfriend turn a sickly white as the blood drained from her face. No, there was no faking a reaction like that. This was definitely news to her.
"Oh my God. So that's what those scratches on her neck were..."
"When did you get to see her neck?" She hated that the question had come from her own mouth, and had come out before she could contain it. Jealousy played by its own rules. Immortal or not. And those rules stipulated that she was allowed to be furious that her girlfriend, the person she would have moved mountains for, done anything she asked her to, was seeing another woman behind her back. Even if that woman did take the form of a filthy, flea-ridden wolf a few times a month.