Bitten & Smitten ib-1

by Мишель Роуэн

  Still didn’t excuse him for almost killing me twice. But it was a nice start. We took a cab to the CN Tower, then gave Amy’s name at the reservation desk and were ushered past the tourist crowds to the elevator reserved especially for restaurant patrons. I’d been there a few times before, so it was all no big deal, but Quinn looked amazed as the elevator rose high into the sky. The hostess showed us through the busy restaurant to Amy’s table, which was against the curved window that looked down at the city lights below. She sat there all alone, napkin in lap, sipping a glass of white wine. When she saw us, she got to her feet and gave me a hug. She wore a sea green sparkly dress and the earrings she’d bought the other day at the mall. Her light blond hair was pinned back from her face with matching sparkly green clips.

  “You look amazing,” she said. “And, Quinn, it’s good to see you again.”

  Quinn smiled back at her. “You too.” I’d told him to be on his best behavior since Amy didn’t exactly know about my secret identity as one of Toronto’s best-dressed monsters.

  “Peter’s still at work. But he said he’d get here as soon as possible.”

  “Overtime?” I glanced down at my watch. “Dedicated guy. What does he do for a living, anyhow?”

  “Um.” Amy frowned. “Not totally sure about that. I think it has something to do with pest control.”

  I nodded. “That sounds sexy.”

  We sat down at the table.

  “So, what do you do for a living, Quinn?” Amy asked.

  “Coincidentally enough,” Quinn said, “I used to do a little pest control myself.”

  “Really?”

  I kicked him under the table.

  “What is it about that business that makes you work such long hours?” Amy asked.

  Quinn ignored my dirty look. “Dedication to a job done right, mostly.”

  “Did you find it dangerous?”

  “Dangerous?”

  “It’s just that Peter keeps getting hurt. I’m worried about him. Every time I see him, he has a new bump or bruise.”

  “Accident-prone,” I said. “Or a really badass cockroach. Hey, let’s change the subject, shall we? Talking about work is depressing for an unemployed slob like myself.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Amy said. “Quinn, have you lived in Toronto long?”

  The waiter arrived to take our drink orders and brought a basket of various breads for us to pick at. I ordered a tequila sunrise and ignored the bread. Quinn asked for a beer.

  “Not long,” Quinn said when the waiter left. “Only a few weeks so far. Actually, I was planning on leaving soon, but things change. I may end up staying here permanently.”

  “Well, I hope for Sarah’s sake that you do.” Amy grinned and grabbed a sesame-seed bread stick. She crunched on it thoughtfully. “Peter’s new in town, too. You guys sure have a lot in common.”

  And that was about the point I began to feel an odd sense of dread concerning Peter, the mysterious pest controller. I started putting two and two together, but instead of adding up to four, they added up to a gnawing, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  Amy glanced up. “Finally! Here he is.” She leaned over the table toward me and grabbed my hand. “Try not to look at the eye patch too much,” she whispered. “He’s very sensitive about it.”

  I swallowed the huge lump of dismay that was forming in my throat and slowly turned around in my seat. Amy was right. Peter was very attractive. He wore a dark suit with a T-shirt underneath that, along with his blond hair, gave him a vaguely Miami Vice look. He wore a black eye patch over his injured eye. He gave Amy a wide smile of sparkling white teeth as he approached the table. The smile drained from his face as he noticed I was sitting across from his new girlfriend. My last memory of White-teeth had been feeling my big toe making squishy contact with his left eye. Just before Thierry and I had jumped off the bridge nearly a week ago.

  Now he was walking toward me at least a thousand feet above street level. I wasn’t planning on jumping from that height, but the night was still young. He hesitated. I could practically see his brain churning out different scenarios, different reactions to seeing me. His eyes flicked to Quinn, and he immediately seemed to relax at the sight of a fellow vampire hunter. He approached the table and leaned over to give Amy a quick kiss. His good eye never left me.

  “Hey, darlin‘,” he said to Amy. “Sorry I’m late.”

  He sat down directly across the table from me. I felt like I might melt into a puddle of goo right there on the floor of the 360 Restaurant with the intensity of hate in his single eye. Amy, perhaps blissfully, remained unaware of the bad vibes shooting over the top of the bread basket.

  “Peter,” she said and took hold of the sleeve of his jacket, “this is Sarah. I’ve told you so much about her that you probably feel like you already know her, right?”

  “Yeah.” Peter’s voice was low and gravelly. Barely restrained. “Feels like I already know you… Sarah.”

  “And,” Amy continued, “this is Sarah’s boyfriend, Quinn.”

  Quinn glanced at me after hearing Amy’s choice of introduction. Then he looked back at Peter and smiled. “Small world, man.”

  Peter grinned at that and clasped Quinn’s outstretched hand. “You can say that again.”

  “You two know each other?” Amy asked with surprise.

  “We do,” Peter said.

  “See?” Amy smiled at both of them. “I knew you had a lot in common with the whole pest-control thing, but it never occurred to me that you might already know each other.”

  I sat there as quietly as I could. Maybe I could just slide under the table, crawl through the crowded restaurant, past the bustling waiters, toward the elevator. No one would even notice. Then again, what was I so worried about, anyhow? We were in the middle of a restaurant full of well-dressed, potential witnesses. Also, he wouldn’t dare murder me in front of Amy. It would be doubtful she’d date him after that, or at least I’d like to think so.

  “Pest control, huh?” Peter said to Quinn as he raked his eye over me. “Looks like you have some work ahead of you tonight.”

  Quinn’s closed-mouth grin held. I noticed he wasn’t taking a chance of showing his fangs.

  “You can say that again.”

  An uncomfortable hush fell at the table, and I felt everyone staring at me. I grabbed a piece of bread for lack of anything else to do and buttered it violently.

  “So, Peter”—I felt the sudden and overwhelming urge to break the silence—“what the hell happened to your eye?”

  All five eyes at the table shot to me.

  “Sarah!” Amy said, appalled.

  “Sorry.” I shrugged. “I’m just curious. So sue me. I simply want to know if my best friend is dating someone with a real injury or if it’s just some weird pirate fetish.”

  The seething rage came off Peter in hot waves. I cocked my head to one side and tried to give him a friendly smile. It would have worked better if I hadn’t felt as if I’d just had my lips Botoxed.

  He stroked the patch tenderly. “An unfortunate workplace accident. But you know what they say, don’t you, darlin‘? ’An eye for an eye‘?”

  Amy frowned. “I thought you only called me ‘darlin’. I thought that was our thing, like when I call you ‘pooky.’ ”

  “Pooky?” Quinn asked.

  Peter gritted his teeth. I was honestly surprised that he hadn’t reached across the table and attempted to kill me with my butter knife yet.

  “What are you going to order?” Amy asked me as she glanced down at her menu. She had drawn a little away from Peter, her annoyance about the pet-name faux pas obvious.

  “I’m fine with the drink,” I said.

  Amy closed her menu. “Don’t be silly. Order whatever you like. Peter said he’d pick up the tab this time, didn’t you?” She nudged him.

  Peter clenched his jaw.

  I gave him a closed-mouth smile. “Gee, that’s so nice of you, Peter. In that case”—I scanne
d the menu for the most expensive item—“I think I’ll have the prime rib. And maybe we should order another bottle of wine.”

  “That sounds great,” Amy said. “I’ll have the same thing.”

  I turned to Quinn. “Okay, why don’t you tell me all about how you two know each other?”

  “It’s not a very interesting story.”

  “No, come on, Quinn,” Peter prompted. “Let’s tell your new girlfriend all about it.”

  Did he think I was completely oblivious to the fact that Quinn was a vampire hunter?

  Well, ex-vampire hunter. He said it as if it would come as a complete shock to me when the truth finally came out. What a moron.

  “We’ve worked together on occasion,” Quinn said after a long swig from his bottle of Heineken. “We’re more acquaintances than close friends, actually.”

  “Come on, Quinn,” Peter said with an unpleasant grin. “We’ve done a whole lot of pest control together over the years. Long days, even longer nights. The search, the hunt, and then the incredible kill. The satisfaction of knowing you’ve snuffed out an evil creature with your bare hands.”

  Amy made a squeamish face as she probably imagined her handsome new boyfriend killing cockroaches and spiders in the palm of his hand.

  “That’s true,” Quinn said with a glance toward me. “But I’m thinking it may be time for a change in careers.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Peter said. “Even after what happened last night? Taking down that”—he looked at Amy—“uh, that nest of disgusting insects? Come on, that was a rush.

  Best time we’ve had in months.”

  My eyes widened at that. Last night? I stared at Quinn, wanting him to deny it, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze. My heart was jumping inside my chest. Quinn was going about business as usual, even though he was now a vampire himself? Even though he had acknowledged to me that he no longer believed vamps were all evil? The thought of him joining the other hunters on a raid made me feel sick. I wanted to hit him, slap him so hard that his ears rang. I wanted him to say it wasn’t true, even if it meant he had to lie to me. How could I keep on being such a bad judge of character? Was I honestly that stupid? Don’t answer that. Peter was still grinning at the memory of whatever had gone down last night. The waiter came to take our order, but Amy told him we needed a few more minutes. He brought us more ice water instead.

  Quinn finally looked at me. He didn’t share Thierry’s ability to have an expressionless face. Every emotion he was feeling, every thought he was thinking, was etched into his features. Unless he was just an amazing actor. Maybe that would be easier for me to stomach.

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” he told me quietly.

  “Don’t be so modest,” Peter said. “You know, Quinn, I think your father’s all wrong about you. I think you’ll make a great leader one day. You’re not afraid to make the hard decisions, go after the difficult kill.” His gaze slid over to me. “No matter how good she is in the sack.”

  Amy poked Peter in the arm with the rest of her bread stick. “I honestly don’t know what you’re babbling about, pooky, but did you just insult my friend? I don’t think I like that very much.”

  “Amy…” I rose from the table. Quinn was staring out the window again. Either feeling major guilt or major denial. He could sort that out on his own. I was through. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

  “Okay.” Amy stood up and grabbed her bag.

  I’d slipped the butter knife into my small beaded purse just in case I needed a weapon later. I know, my choice of weapons did lean toward the nonlethal culinary variety, but it was better than nothing. I made a mental note to invest in another can of pepper spray. I swung the ladies’ room door open and we went inside. I did a quick stall check to make sure we were all alone.

  “I don’t really need to pee,” Amy said. “I just wanted to apologize for Peter. I don’t think he’s going to be the one, after all. I don’t know why he’s acting so weird.”

  “I know why.” I felt tense and watched Amy inspect her makeup in the mirror while I stood with my shoulder against the door to prevent anyone from entering.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. I need to tell you something, Amy. Something I should have told you already.”

  “What?”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m a vampire.”

  Amy stared at me for a moment. “Huh?”

  “A vampire. A creature of the night.”

  She continued to stare at me blankly.

  I sighed heavily. “Dracula, Lestat, Angel, you know? Blood drinking, no other food, live forever and still look good… slightly pasty, pointy-toothed… vampire.”

  After a moment of silence she nodded and smiled patiently at me. “I told you to lay off the Anne Rice books for a while. And buying every season of Buffy on DVD? It was only a matter of time before you’d start thinking this way.”

  “No”—I shook my head—“this has nothing to do with any of that. Besides, those DVDs were on sale. But forget all that. I really am a vampire.”

  She smiled and nodded at me. “Whatever you say, Sarah.”

  Amy tended to be frustrating at the best of times, but this was just annoying.

  “Okay, I’ll prove it to you.” I bared my teeth. “Look. I have fangs.”

  She leaned closer to inspect them. “Cute. But Halloween was over a month ago. We shouldn’t leave the boys at the table much longer. They’ll end up eating all the bread.”

  I thought I was going to have to bite her to prove it. No, wait, there was a better way right in front of me. I grabbed her upper arms and moved her around to look in the mirror. When she stared at her reflection, that’s all she saw. Just her. Not me. She looked at herself, then turned to me. Then she looked at the mirror again. Then turned to me again. This went on for a while. Finally her eyes bugged out in shock.

  “See?” I said, feeling slightly triumphant that I’d finally gotten through to her. “What did I tell you?”

  Amy opened her mouth and started to scream.

  Chapter 17

  I clamped my hand over Amy’s mouth before she’d let out more than a second of the bloodcurdling sound. The door swung open and a gray-haired older woman entered the bathroom holding the hand of a little girl, about six years old, probably her granddaughter. She took one look at me, clutching Amy tightly from behind, and her eyes widened. A look of disapproval came across her features and she shook her head gravely at us.

  “Honestly,” she said. “I’ll never understand you lesbians.”

  She covered her granddaughter’s eyes and turned to leave.

  Amy strained to move and face me, my hand still firmly across her mouth. She said something, but it was too muffled for me to hear.

  “What?” I asked and removed my hand.

  “You’re a vampire.” Her eyes were wider than the bread plates at our table.

  I nodded. “Good to see you’re finally catching on. Now please don’t scream again. I’m not going to hurt you or anybody else.”

  She looked at me for a long moment, then ran into the closest toilet stall and locked it behind her.

  “Amy—”

  “Go away! Leave me alone!” Her voice trembled.

  I crossed my arms and paced around the small bathroom nervously. “There’s no reason to be scared. Seriously. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Why did this happen? I don’t understand! Does this have anything to do with why you got fired? Did you try to bite Ms. Saunders?”

  I thought about that for a moment. “No.”

  Finger sucking and neck biting were two entirely different things. Finger sucking being the less disgusting of the two. Marginally.

  “Then what happened to you?”

  “Come out of there and I’ll tell you.”

  “No! Tell me first and then I’ll come out.”

  I let out a long sigh. “It’s all your fault, you know. You should be feeling bad instead of freaking out.”

 
“My fault?” I saw her look through the narrow space at the side of the stall door.

  “Yeah. This whole thing is because you set me up on a date with Gordon Richards. He was a vampire and he bit me.”

  “You’re kidding! He seemed so normal.”

  I let the fact sink in for her without saying anything else.

  “That asshole,” Amy said, louder now, a bit of the fear and shock leaving her voice. “I’m going to kill him the next time I see him.”

  “Yeah. You do that.” I decided not to tell her that the deed was already done, and by her date, too. It might put her right over the edge.

  There was a long pause, and then…

  “So, are you trying to say that you’re a good vampire?”

  “Yeah. I’m a good vampire.” I paused. “Like Angel. With a soul and everything.”

  “But Angel wasn’t always good. Do you turn all evil when you have sex?”

  I rolled my eyes. In the name of all that was holy, I shouldn’t have lent her those Buffy DVDs. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this one. I’m good Angel. All the time.”

  I waited for another minute in silence.

  “Amy,” I finally said. “Are you okay in there?”

  I heard the toilet flush. Then the latch clicked and the door opened slowly. Amy peered out at me nervously. Her bottom lip quivered. “I’m so sorry I set you up with that jerk!” She staggered out and hugged me tightly.

  I patted her back. “Me too.”

  She sniffed, then backed away from me. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! That’s not very nice.”

  “I’ve been hoping I could get back to life as usual before anyone noticed anything different about me. Unfortunately, it’s not turning out to be that simple.”

  “Why would you want that?” Her voice was getting stronger, and her wide smile was making another appearance. “My best friend is a vampire. I am so completely jealous.”

  “Don’t be. Trust me on that.”

  “So, what about Quinn?”

  “What do you mean, ‘What about Quinn?’ ”

  “Does he know?”

  I took a deep breath. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to bring you in here to tell you. Quinn’s a vampire, too.”