My throat goes dry. She's leaning in, and my entire world is those plump pink lips, her sweet smell, and those big hazel eyes. Then the announcer calls out Fulton Street, and a sad weight settles on my shoulders.
Isabeau must notice the look of disappointment on my face, because her fingertips, with those bright pink nails, just brush the edge of my knee, so light it might have been an accident.
"See you tomorrow, Riley," she says, and then she stands and disappears through the doors before I do.
I'm all the way at Wall Street before I realize I've missed my own stop too.
***
"You know what you have to do now, right?" Colin asks me later that day. We're waiting in line at the deli next to our office, him nudging my arm excitedly, me with my hands in my pockets. "You have to ask her out! She gave you the biggest opening of all time."
"But ask her out where?" It's the same question I've been mulling over all morning. That 'see you tomorrow' has me certain I'm sniffing up the right tree but figuring out how I'm gonna do it is harder. In small towns, everybody knows everybody else’s business, but Isabeau’s a total stranger.
Colin gives me an exasperated look. "Does it matter? Ask her to your place for a nightcap."
As good as he is with women, I'm not so sure about that suggestion. "In the morning? Before work?"
"She's a vampire," he insists. "Her morning is your evening anyway."
My shoulders slump. Sealfolk might be able to get away with asking strangers up to their apartments without seeming sketchy, but werewolves? Not so much. We're not considered prime dating material by most other species, unless they like it rough and don't mind extra hair in unusual places. We've even got a name for those folks: tail-chasers. I’ve been a few human girls’ sexual experiment before, and it’s not an experience I want to repeat.
I've pondered whether Isabeau might be one of them, but I doubt it. First of all, she’s a vampire, so I’m sure she’s got her own dating problems to deal with. More importantly, with the way she talks, the way she looks, the way she smiles like I'm the only person in her universe in that moment, I just can’t feel bad about myself.
Colin is still staring at me, like he's waiting for me to promise something, but we reach the front of the line and he has to stop pestering me. The faerie behind the counter giggles when she sees him, and Colin forgets about my problem for a moment as he leans closer to smile at her and tell her his order.
I don't mind. My thoughts are still on the train, with Isabeau in that polka dot dress. Just remembering sets the fine hairs on my skin to prickling, and my fingertips start to itch. That's the other reason people sometimes exclude us from their dating pool. We only turn into wolves under a full moon, but we do have a tendency to sprout claws and get a little fuzzier when we're emotional or turned on. It was the glowing eyes that did my first human girlfriend in, back when I was sixteen. She tried to play it off, but I knew what was going on. I'd always held onto the hope my prospects might be better in a big city like New York, but it hadn't worked out that way so far. Not until Isabeau had strutted onto my train.
"Excuse me?"
I blink. The faerie behind the counter and Colin are both waiting expectantly. "Huh?"
"Excuse me, may I take your order?" the faerie asks. Her pretty face looks annoyed now instead of flirtatious.
"Meat. Raw. Anything you got."
She gives me an odd look, but she starts shoveling something into a bag.
"You need to work on your game, Riley," Colin tells me, sighing and shaking his head.
I sigh too. "Don't I know it.”
***
The next time I see Isabeau, she's wearing a lime green dress that sets off her skin, and her lips are a deeper, juicier pink than the day before. She sits right down beside me again, and my nose is in heaven. The smell of suntan lotion is starting to become an aphrodisiac.
"Hey, Riley," she says, and her voice has me floating on clouds. "Don't you look all dressed up?"
"Thanks." I had taken a bit more care with my appearance, and I was flattered she'd noticed. Gel never tames my hair for long, but I figured it only had to hold 'til Fulton Street—and 'til I figured out how to ask Isabeau on a date without seeming creepy. "So, um, where you headed?"
Isabeau tips her sunglasses down, and I'm drowning in hazel again. "I haven't decided yet. What about you? Where do you go every morning?"
"Uh..." Working for a financial company isn't the most glamorous job, and I'm not sure how to dress it up without sounding like a jerk or giving the wrong impression.
"Let me guess," Isabeau says, leaning in closer until our knees brush. For once, she isn't wearing leggings, and I gulp, trying not to stare at her thighs. "You work in an office. A boring nine to five that makes you wear collared shirts."
"You got me pegged. Can't claim anything more interesting than that, I'm afraid."
"Me neither," Isabeau says. "At least, most people wouldn't find it interesting... but I love what I do."
"And what's that?" I'm eager to know more about her, hungry for any scrap of information.
"I'm a tutor," she says. "I only Turned recently, about twenty years ago, so I'm still connected to this day and age. But lots of other vampires, wizards, and other long-lived creatures were born centuries ago. They have no idea how to adjust to living in a world that moves so fast, or how to make a steady paycheck in a city like New York. I teach them basic things, like how to use a computer."
"Teaching centenarians all about the wonders of the internet. Now that's gotta be fun."
"One of the witches in my class figured out how to shop online the other day,” Isabeau confides in me. “We ended up with seventeen boxes of newt eyes and frog toes delivered to my classroom. And yes, before you ask, we’ve had ‘incidents’ with porn.”
I laugh along with her, but then the two of us drift off into silence, simply staring at each other. It isn’t awkward—it’s electric, and I inhale softly. I can’t look away. Those hazel eyes have a hypnotic pull.
“Can I ask you a question, Riley?”
I decide to try teasing her a little. “You can ask me another one, sure.”
She has the decency to laugh at my bad joke before saying, “So, why did you decide to say hello to me the other day?”
I decide to go with the truth. “Because I noticed you the day before. You have a beautiful smile. I wanted to see it again.”
Isabeau seems surprised by that answer but pleased too. She smiles, and my stomach does a somersault. “Hmm. People don’t usually compliment a vampire’s smile.”
I suddenly realize I might have done the exact same thing to Isabeau that I hate human girls doing to me. “Not because of the fangs,” I tell her, trying desperately to recover. “You just looked so happy. People on the subway usually ai…aren’t. You walked in with that yellow dress and that smile, and you were like this beam of sunlight. I couldn’t help wanting to talk to you.”
“A beam of sunlight?” she repeats, shaking her head in disbelief. “You really are something else, Riley.”
“Shit.” I pinch my forehead in embarrassment. “I didn’t think about that one either.”
“No, it’s sweet. I love the sun, even if too much of it can kill me.” She touches my arm with her fingertips, pulling my hand away. I can barely feel it through my sleeve, but it sends a jolt through me. “You get off work at five, right?”
I answer automatically. “Yup.”
“So, I’ll meet you then, if that’s okay?”
In my haze, it takes me several seconds to realize what she means. The beautiful creature before me has just asked me out on a date. Me. On a date. At least, I think it’s a date? It’s definitely a something. Maybe I’m not so rusty after all.
“Absolutely,” I say, still half convinced she’s joking and going to take it back.
But she doesn’t take it back. She just smirks as the train hisses to a halt and the doors open. “You’d better get off,” she says.
Isabeau winks. “For sure. Now you’d better run along, or you’ll be late.”
I stagger off the train more befuddled than the group of zombies next to me, my head swirling and my nose still full of suntan lotion and coconut.
***
My concentration is shot for the rest of the day. If it weren't for Colin keeping an eye out for Mr. Mrglsptz, I probably would have ended up with a spit-polished oxford shoe up my butt before he could even say the words 'You're fired'. All my projects remain unfinished as the minutes tick by, and the little work I do get done is full of mistakes.
By two in the afternoon, Colin's fed up with me too. He corners me in the unisex restroom next to the supply closet, and I almost burn my hands under the faucet.
"Calm down," he says, noting my look of surprise. "Mrglsptz is busy chewing out Aelwen, that banshee in accounting. But what the hell is going on with you?"
I bite my lip, and my eyes dart nervously toward the door—which he happens to be standing in front of, blocking my escape. There's nothing else for it. I'm awful at keeping secrets.
"Well, Isabeau said she'd meet me after work."
"Isabeau?" Colin's silvery eyebrows lift all the way to his hairline. "So that's the vampire hottie's name? Is she French or something?"
"Or something," I mumble.
Colin's grin only grows. "And she's meeting you after work? You dog, you."
I nod, weakly.
"This is awesome! You're finally getting laid. I thought I'd have to resort to desperate measures."
“Hey, I got plenty back home,” I protest, but it’s weak. Instead of excitement, my stomach churns with something much more unpleasant. It's not that I'm not attracted to Isabeau. My daydreams lately have featured peeling her out of every one of those colorful dresses. But when it comes to sex, my experiences haven't always been great in the past.
"You really think so?"
"No doubt about it," Colin says, but then he notices my shoulders sink. He folds an arm around them, giving me a gentle shake. "Hey, what's wrong? I thought you liked this girl?"
"I do. A lot. That's the problem."
Suddenly, Colin understands. "You worried about going feral?"
Coming from someone else's mouth, the term 'going feral' might have been offensive, but there's no malice in Colin's tone when he says it.
I sigh. "Yup. Kind of."
"So? She's a vampire. She knows what she's getting into, mixing it up with a werewolf, right? Besides, she's got super strength. I'm sure she can handle anything you dish out. Between the two of you, I bet you could destroy an apartment."
I hadn't thought of it that way. My previous relationships had been with human girls, ones who always seemed to realize they didn't want to bother being with someone so different after a few dates and a roll between the sheets they could whisper to their friends about later. Isabeau's different. At the very least, she isn't stepping into it blind. Besides, she's a bonafide city girl. She's probably seen weirder things than claws and glowing eyes.
"I guess she can't think I'm weird when she's got a fridge stocked with blood smoothies.”
"Exactly." Colin lets me go, clapping me between the shoulders. "Now go get your girl, Tiger."
I look at him strangely.
"Uh, wolf?"
I give him a cheerful howl before stepping out the door... and right into the path of Mr. Mrglsptz.
"Evans, where have you been? Why are you howling in the bathroom?"
"Uh..." I glance back over my shoulder, but Colin has ducked into one of the stalls. I'm on my own.
"Never mind. Just get those reports done before five. I need them by the end of the day.”
"Yes sir. I'm on it." I scurry past him and head back to my cubicle. Five o'clock can't come soon enough.
***
By the time five does roll around, my pulse is through the roof. I can barely keep my breathing steady, and my legs definitely aren't as I dart into the bathroom for one last peek in the mirror. Not too bad. My hair's getting shaggy at the fringes, but the extra gel has kept it somewhat presentable. I straighten my tie, smoothing it down beneath my sweater vest. Isabeau's hinted that she likes sharp-dressed gals, and while I can't quite claim that, I think I look decent.
As I stare at my reflection, my mind keeps galloping on ahead. What if Colin's right? What if Isabeau does have something sexual in mind? I could be walking into anything from a coffee date to a grand slam.
I close my eyes. Either way, you'll be fine, I tell myself. This ain’t your first rodeo. But I'm not very convincing. It has been over a year since last time, and I care way more. I check my watch. I've only got a few minutes to hit the train station—and today of all days, I can't be late.
On my dash for the front door, I nearly bowl Colin over. He calls something after me, 'Good luck' or 'Go get her!', but I can't really tell which because my heart is pounding in my ears. Everything's white noise. I don't even wrinkle my nose at the smell of gasoline and rubber as I hurry down the sidewalk and into the subway station.
I catch sight of Isabeau immediately. She's waiting past the turnstiles, but instead of the lime green dress she'd worn that morning, she's wrapped in blood red with lipstick and nails to match. She's absolutely eye popping against the sea of black, white, and grey, and I can't tear my eyes away. Lucky for me, my feet carry me in her direction all on their own. I'm so focused that I run gut-first into the turnstile, and I end up fumbling for my card.
Isabeau swipes her own through, saving me further embarrassment. "Why the rush?"
I tug at my collar, desperate for a bit of cool breeze, but the entire world around me feels like it's burning. I do manage to make a decent recovery, though. "To make sure I didn't miss you, of course."
"You're right, that would have been a tragedy," Isabeau says. She takes my hand, and oh sweet Jesus why didn't I wipe it on my pants first to get off at least some of the sweat? If she notices that my fingers are dripping, she doesn't let on that she minds. I’m not even sure how much she can feel, because her hand is strangely cold, almost like touching a statue. It makes me wonder what the rest of her skin is like, if she has any trace of warmth. I want to find out.
"Where we headed to?" I ask.
In that same practiced, seductive motion, Isabeau slides the tops of her glasses down to look at me. "Nowhere special yet. I was thinking we’d keep it casual and grab some food from one of the carts by my place."
Her place? I grin. “I like the sound of that.”
***
Our quick train ride is silent, but it doesn't feel that way, because our bodies sure do a lot of talking. Isabeau's cold hand stays in mine, and she brings them to rest on her thigh. I think I feel a hint of warmness there, but through her dress, I can't be sure.
We only make it to Fulton Street before Isabeau leaves her seat, pulling me along with her. The crowd of people parts for her, and she strides up the steps and out into the dying sunlight like a queen. The glare reflected from the skyscrapers doesn't seem to bother her, although I notice her sunglasses are firmly in place.
"So, what you said earlier, about the sun killing you..."
She seems to sense my question. "Special lotion. Lots of it. If you're lucky, I'll let you lotion me up tomorrow morning."
Tomorrow morning? Does that mean she's already decided I'm staying the night?
We end up stopping by a cart, one that has specialty hotdogs with all the fixings. I prefer my meat raw, but I’ll eat it any way I can get it. Isabeau passes on the hotdogs, but a block down we find a gelato stand, and blood is one of the flavors.
“Is it hard to find food you can eat in the city?” I ask as we walk and munch.
“Not really,” Isabeau says, licking her spoon clean. My heart lurches. I hadn’t known it was possible to be jealous of a piece of plastic. “
This is just artificial flavoring. To get the right nutrients, I have to go to the blood bank and pick up the real stuff. Human’s expensive, so I only get it when I want to splurge.”
“What else is there?”
“Animals—cow, mostly—and your various humanoids except for demons. Werewolf’s on the menu too, actually,” she drawls, giving me a sidelong look. “But that’s even pricier, because of the extra iron.”
I blush. It’s hard not to think about what she’s implying.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Isabeau says, noticing my wide eyes. “I don’t bite unless I’m asked really nicely. And I’ve got a stocked fridge. I even keep regular food for guests.”
I finish my hotdog and throw the container in a nearby trash can. Unsure what to do with my hands, I shove them in my pockets and I’m relieved to find an open pack of gum there. Thanking future Riley, I pop a piece in my mouth so I won’t taste like onions if…when…something happens.
I almost drop the rest of the pack when Isabeau reaches out and brushes my arm with her fingertips. I gasp. It’s like tiny electric shocks.
“Are you okay, Riley? You still seem a little nervous.”
“Don’t pay me no mind. I get this way around beautiful girls.”
It must be a good recovery, because Isabeau smirks. “Do I still count as a girl even if I’m fifty-two?”
“Sure do.”
Isabeau finishes her gelato and tosses it, sliding her hand into the crook of my elbow. “I’m still getting the hang of this whole vampire thing. You’d think twenty years would be enough time to adjust, but sometimes, it feels like it happened yesterday.”
“How’d it happen? I mean, what made you decide?”
Isabeau sighs. “Love. You know the story. Young, beautiful ingénue dates a mysterious stranger…only we broke up two years later. It doesn’t always work out like in the movies.”
“Whoever dumped you was an idiot,” I tell her, more vehemently than I’d intended.
Fur and Fangs Box Set Page 2