Fur and Fangs Box Set

by Rae D. Magdon

  "I'm sorry," I say, ignoring the pictures that have popped up on the screen, "but you need to look for that material on your own time. This isn't an appropriate use of the learning center's computers."

  Eolande sighs. "But this is so much easier than finding real Leprechauns! You type it in, and they just appear in the magic box..."

  Now I know she's fucking with me. Eolande isn't nearly as bad with computers as she pretends.

  "Let's reactivate your safe-search features. They shouldn't have been turned off to begin with."

  I close out of the browser and fix Eolande's settings while she pouts.

  Next up is Francis, the grumpy vampire. "Since you're so interested, why don't I show you how to search for information on President Roosevelt?"

  "What do I need information about him for?" Francis grumbles. "I've lived through thirty-two presidents, girl. I was there. I remember what happened—"

  "Of course, you do," I tell him, "but just in case..."

  I type 'President Theodore Roosevelt' into the search bar and leave Francis to his own devices. Free for a brief moment, I glance at the clock on the wall. Still another half hour to go. I love my job, and I love helping people, but I have to admit, it can get a little tiring. When I look away, Elyse catches my eye. ‘Text her,’ she mouths, jerking her head toward the bathroom.

  I smile. This is exactly why I love her. Before another student can ask me a question, I slip away from the computers and head for the bathroom.

  Once I'm alone, I pull my phone out of my dress pocket. Dresses with pockets are hard to find, but so, so worth it. I'm a little disappointed to see that I don't have any missed texts, but I remember what Riley wrote on the card. Maybe it's like Elyse said and she's waiting for me to make the next move.

  Twenty years on the market, and I still feel so clueless, like I've never done this before. Finding company has never been a problem for me. I've had several dalliances, for lack of a better term, since Natasha, but those were one-night stands. I enjoy the thrill of meeting people and falling in love for a couple of hours. It feels like magic, like destiny.

  Something about Riley is different, though. No one else has looked at me the way she does. No one else has sent me flowers the morning after. No one else has sounded so sincere about wanting to see me again. I want to keep her around for a little while, assuming I haven't forgotten everything I know about dating in the past two decades.

  During the night Riley spent in my apartment, I had felt so powerful, so in control of everything that was happening. Now, I feel the exact opposite, but it’s kind of a nice change. I’m at the top of a rollercoaster, about to go hurtling down.

  I pull up her name on my phone. Just because I have an eternity ahead of me doesn’t mean I’m the type to waste time.

  ‘Thank you for the flowers! They’re beautiful.’

  Dots appear at the bottom of the screen almost immediately. I wait impatiently.

  Riley: You liked them? I hope I picked a good color.

  ‘I loved them. They’re perfect.’

  Somehow, that doesn’t seem like enough. I hesitate, then add: ‘Perfect enough for a second date.’

  My stomach flutters nervously as Riley types back.

  Riley: Just name the time and place.

  I sigh with relief. Spending time with strangers was fun while it lasted, but maybe it’s time for something different. I’ve got a whole lot to gain, and nothing to lose but a heart that’s already been broken or maybe just dented a bit around the edges. I’ll have to wait and find out.

  And I already know exactly where I’m going to take her.

  ***

  By the time sunrise hits and my shift ends, I'm still awake and full of energy. I set Riley's sunflowers in the window so they'll last as long as possible, but before I slip out the door, I pull one out of the vase. Using the screen of my phone—since the bathroom mirror doesn't show anything but my dress, my sunglasses, some eyeshadow and a lipstick print—I secure the stem behind my ear and tuck my hair over it.

  "Going somewhere special?"

  I turn to see Elyse staring at me. "Just breakfast," I tell her, pulling a small bottle out of my purse and slathering extra sunscreen on my bare forearms. The cat's out of the bag, but I want to try and keep Riley to myself for just a little while longer.

  "Hmm." It's clear from Elyse's tone she doesn't believe me, but she doesn't push the issue. "Go ahead and lock up. I'm going to crash in my office for a while."

  I move onto my face, painting a stripe across the bridge of my forehead and down along my nose. "Don't you want to go home and sleep?"

  "Sleep is for the weak and coffee is the most powerful potion of all."

  I sigh and recap the bottle. "If I find you asleep on your desk when I come back to work tonight..."

  "You aren't coming back to work tonight," Elyse says, matter-of-factly. "It's Saturday. Take the evening off."

  It's a surprising offer, and way too generous. "I'm not letting you do them on your own," I protest, but Elyse holds up her hand.

  "We've only got two classes, and they're small ones. I can handle them solo." She gives me a knowing smirk. "Spend the evening with your new squeeze. After two decades, you deserve a date."

  “You’re meddling,” I tell her, but she just clicks her tongue.

  “Sometimes, meddling is a good deed.”

  Normally I'd argue harder, but Elyse has a point. It has been a while...and if I don't hurry, I'm going to be late. I don’t have time to pout until she takes back her favor. "You're the best," I say, leaning in for a hug.

  Elyse stays a little stiff, but she allows it. "Yeah, yeah. Now, go, and tell me all about it later." She slips out of my arms and pushes me toward the door. “And text me where she lives if she invites you over! I promise not to stalk her…offline, anyway. I will be Googling her address, just to be honest.”

  After waving goodbye, I practically skip out onto the sidewalk. It's a beautiful sunny day, and even though the morning glare makes my skin tingle and ache a bit, I'm happy for the clear weather. It's the perfect morning for a breakfast date, and I'll be sitting across from the perfect person.

  ***

  "Crossbones?" Riley says, reading the sign above the wooden double doors.

  While she studies the entrance to the restaurant, I continue studying her. I’m still lingering several seconds in the past, when I’d first spotted her waiting for me in front of the building. Her collar is a bit crooked, her hair a little messy, but on her, the slightly disheveled look is too cute. We’d hugged warmly for a few seconds, and I’d caught a whiff of something delicious near her throat—not any particular body spray or scent, but just her.

  “It’s got the best grits in the city,” I declare. “At least, that’s what my family says when they come up to visit.”

  “Really?” Riley’s eyebrows lift skeptically, but her grin broadens. “That’s quite a claim. I’ve had some mighty fine grits, and that’s not even countin’ the ones my daddy makes.”

  I take her hand, enjoying how warm her fingers are as they lace with mine. One benefit to having cold hands—I get to soak up all the heat when I hold someone else’s. “Just trust me. But you have to promise me to get them cajun style.”

  Riley wrinkles her nose. “Shrimp? I’m usually more the red meat type…”

  “It’s good, I promise.” I begin taking her toward the door. “If you want, we can split them.”

  “Fair enough.”

  The two of us head into the diner, which is packed at this time of day. There are all sorts of interesting people around, and I notice Riley staring wide-eyed at a two-headed cyclops laughing in one of the corners.

  “Sorry,” she says when she realizes I’ve caught her. “I… um, like to people watch.”

  Riley is saved from embarrassment by the arrival of the hostess, a succubus with an overly cheery smile. When she notices me, however, she breathes a sigh of relief and puts on a more neutral, and more pleasant face.
I’m enough of a regular that she knows I never complain and tip well. “Two today,” I tell her, and she leads us over to one of the nice tables by the window.

  “So, people watching,” I say to Riley once the hostess leaves. “Is that what you were doing on the subway the day we met?”

  Riley laughs. “Yup. Well, sorta. After seeing you, I couldn’t recall anyone else who was on that train if I tried.”

  Her accent is inconsistent, I notice. She drops her ‘g’s only occasionally, as if she’s trying to downplay her drawl.

  “Sweet talker.” I lean forward, resting my elbow on the table and my chin in my hand. “I’ll tell you a secret, though. I like to people watch, too. I don’t think there’s any harm, as long as you’re looking for the positive.”

  “I’m still getting used to it,” Riley confesses. “It’s just so crowded.”

  “Compared to where?”

  “Talbot. It’s small, maybe ‘bout five hundred people in the city proper.” She shrugged. “Mostly just humans and wolves back home, and we never did mix too well. Not like here.”

  “New York isn’t without its problems…” I trail off and murmur a ‘thank you’ as the waitress arrives with the grits and a glass of sheep’s blood. “But at the very least, there’s always someone else just as strange as you are.”

  Riley nods, but her eyes have locked onto the plate. She takes a big sniff, and I can practically see her tongue lolling. “These are for you,” I say, pushing them her way.

  “I can order my own,” she protests, but she’s already unwrapping her fork from her napkin.

  “Vampires don’t eat much food anyway.” At her look of confusion, I explain. “We can if we want to, but mostly for the nostalgia. We can’t taste much, and it goes right through us.”

  “Not blood, though?” Riley mumbles around a mouthful of cheese and shrimp. From the glaze in her eyes, I can tell it’s an effort to concentrate on the conversation. Her mouth is in heaven.

  My own mouth starts to water. I’m getting hungry, and I’m all too aware of the way her pulse is beating in her neck. The sheep’s blood next to me isn’t doing much to sate my thirst. “We don’t need as much as you think, although the more we have, the easier it is to keep warm. Unfortunately, if you’re single and want anything fancier than cow or sheep or pig, you have to pay extra.”

  Riley pauses in the middle of shoveling grits into her mouth. “Mmh, these grits are amazing…wait, single?”

  “Well, yes. Most of us don’t go around asking our friends for a snack, because of the side effects.”

  Riley’s expression grows even more concerned. “Side effects?”

  “Not those kinds of side effects. They’re actually, ah, pleasant, if you know what I mean.”

  Riley’s eyes grow very large, and from her blush, I can tell she knows exactly what I mean.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” I say before she can make the usual leap. “I’m not here with you right now for a free meal. I just want to spend a little more time with you. No teeth necessary.”

  “I didn’t think that at all,” Riley says with a soft smile.

  “You didn’t?”

  “Naw. You’re way too nice.”

  I arch an eyebrow at her. “Nice? How do you know?”

  “Wolf sense,” Riley says, with complete sincerity.

  I can’t help it. I giggle. “Wolf sense?”

  “Yup. Wolves can sense when someone’s bein’ dishonest.” I must look skeptical, because she adds, “Swear!” much more insistently.

  “I believe you,” I say, still with a slight laugh. “So, is that what you do at your job? Use your wolf sense to figure out which bankers are on the up-and-up?”

  “Duller than that, I’m afraid. I’m just a numbers gal, living in a cube. Took the first job I could find up here that would cover rent. Now, your job…” She looks at me with clear admiration. “That sounds interesting.”

  “I’d say it’s rewarding more than interesting. Certain parts of the job are predictable. Like when you teach older people from different centuries how to use computers, there’s always porn. So much porn.”

  “Can’t blame ‘em. If I was from the sixteenth century and learned I could see sex on a magic box...”

  The atmosphere changes. We lock eyes, and Riley’s are so, so blue I want to fall into them. “I prefer a little more realism,” I murmur, and something in me can sense the spike of Riley’s heartbeat across the narrow gap of the table.

  With a rapid blink, the moment is broken. Riley seems to come back to herself. “I’ll be honest,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck. “I have no idea how this works. Or if ‘this’ is even anything.”

  “It’s something.” What that something is, I’m not ready to say yet, but I’m hopeful, nonetheless.

  Riley sets her hand back on the table. “So…”

  “So…” I place my hand over hers. “We ride this something until we figure out what it is, and have fun doing it. No rules, no expectations.”

  Riley grins. “That easy?”

  “That easy.”

  “So, uh…” Her face turns pink again, and she ducks her head, letting her bangs fall over her eyes. “Any interest in going back to mine? After I pay.”

  “After I pay,” I insist.

  “But I ate all the grits!”

  I roll my tongue across my lower lip. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll get plenty to eat.”

  ***

  Things stay heated rather than awkward on the ride to Riley’s place, but we hit a small road bump when we arrive at her modest building. She holds open the front door, obviously waiting for me to go first, but I can only linger on the doorstep. “Um, Riley,” I say, with an apologetic shrug, “I’m a vampire, remember? You need to ask me in.”

  “Oh!” Riley rubs the back of her neck. “I didn’t know it had to be, uh, that official and all. Sorry. Izzy, would you like to come in?”

  I give her my biggest smile. “I’d love to.”

  She takes my hand as we head up the stairs, squeezing it just a little too tight.

  Riley’s apartment isn’t much to speak of. It’s a studio, with a kitchenette in one corner, a bed in the other, and a couch and television in the middle of the room. It’s clean, though, aside from the rumpled comforter that she hasn’t bothered to straighten over the mattress.

  When I look closer, I can see little touches of her around the room: framed photos of her family on the shelves, landscape prints on the walls that remind me of something I’d find on the aesthetic blogs I follow, and a potted spider plant hanging from the ceiling above the kitchen table.

  “It ain’t…it’s not much yet,” Riley says sheepishly, correcting herself mid-sentence. “Only moved in a couple months ago.”

  I smile, not at the apartment, but at her. “I think it has potential.”

  “Huh?”

  I turn to face her, wrapping my arms loosely around her neck. The signals from Riley’s body are all positive. Her pupils get bigger, and she sucks in a little gasp while smiling. “A few more plants would brighten the place up even more. Maybe a window box? I know you like flowers.”

  Her face flushes. “Yup.”

  “Me too.”

  Riley surprises me by leaning in first. She pauses a centimeter away from my mouth, obviously waiting for permission, and I close the rest of the distance. Our kiss is soft, cautious, but very, very sweet. She tastes warm more than anything, and I slip my fingers beneath the neckline of her sweater vest for something to grip.

  As the kiss deepens, Riley’s hands find my hips. Her grip starts out light, but it tightens when I suck on her lower lip, and I feel her low groan vibrate against my tongue. She pulls back, and I let her go, just a bit reluctantly.

  “What’s wrong?” I whisper.

  “Nothin’. It’s just, did your fangs get longer?”

  I run my tongue over them and realize she’s right. The tips of my fangs have started to protrude a little more.
“Oh. Yes, they do that.” I smile, trying to put her at ease. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite unless I’m asked nicely.”

  “I don’t mind,” Riley murmurs. The breathless way she says it, I start to wonder if that’s an understatement.

  But I can’t get ahead of myself. Biting requires trust, and I haven’t drunk from a living person in a couple of years. People who go looking for the high the bite gives them leave me uneasy, so I don’t go home with them. The others simply don’t ask.

  “The teeth,” Riley says, as if she feels the need to clarify. “I mean, I don’t mind your teeth. When we kiss. They don’t hurt.”

  “Good.”

  I kiss her again, deeper, with less restraint. Riley seems to approve, because she clutches at the material of my dress near the waist. The rasp of fabric shifting lights my skin up, but I know her hands will feel even better.

  “Your bed would be more comfortable,” I say, stroking the fine hairs at the back of her neck.

  I don’t have to tell her twice. She backs me toward it, her mouth dipping forward again and again to steal short kisses from mine. I let her guide me until my legs hit the edge of the mattress.

  “You sure?” she asks, pulling back to check in one more time.

  “Definitely sure.” I take Riley’s hands in mine, removing them from my waist and turning in her arms. “Unzip me.”

  Even facing away, I can feel her grin. She pulls down the zipper of my dress, placing a kiss against my shoulder from behind. “You look so pretty in yellow,” she mutters, and a shudder races down my spine as her hot breath skates over me.

  I know I do, but hearing Riley say it is extra special. My heart flutters, but despite that, I think of something to say: “I’d probably look better in nothing at all.”

  “You do.” She pulls my zipper down to the small of my back, peeling the dress open, and I can’t quite stifle a whimper. Her fingertips are so gentle against me, like little licks of flame.