“Who are you really?” Maggie crossed her arms, feeling disgust. “A spy? From another district?”
“Spy?” Ryder waved his hands around like it was both absurd and like he had no clue what the heck she was talking about. He then placed his arms on either side of her, leaning his hands against the wall. “You want to know who I really am?”
“That’s what I’ve said twice now. Spill the beans. Your charm no longer holds power over me.”
He leaned down and kissed her neck a couple times, as if testing the truth of the matter. When he looked up, Maggie shot him a hard stare. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll do this the hard way. I enjoy the sexual thrill of women desiring me while I do what I do, so this is a bit disappointing. It will be the first time someone has refused me. I’ll just have to get on with it, then. I won’t waste any more of your time.” He opened his mouth, showing a set of fangs descending.
“A vampire?” Maggie cocked an eyebrow. “You goons actually exist?”
He pulled his neck back, narrowing his eyes in surprise. “Goons? Honey, we are the sexiest creatures in existence.”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes.
“What? You don’t believe me? You wanted me like a frantic school girl moments ago.”
“That was then. This is now.”
“Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, Antonio Banderas. Do you really think they were just acting in Interview With The Vampire? That’s who they really are. They go to our underground Hollywood mixers all the time.”
“I’m more of a Taylor Lautner girl. You’re boring me.”
“Boring you? Ha!” Now he stepped back and crossed his arms.
“How many of you are really left in the entire world, anyway? I never hear news reports about vampire holes in the necks of young, unsuspecting women.”
Ryder rubbed his hands together and smiled wide, looking at the floor before saying, “We have our ways of covering that stuff up. Different vampires have different methods.”
The news story at the deli flashed through Maggie’s thoughts. Cut-Throat, the serial killer, slashing women’s necks. Women met through personal ads. So Alex had indeed been right. “So your method is slashing the neck afterward?”
“Very discerning,” he said, again moving in close.
Maggie surprised him by tilting her chin up for him. “Go ahead. Have a bite,” she said.
Ryder’s eyes went wide with arousal. He leaned in ever-so-slowly, his fangs pressing gently against her skin, before she felt them penetrate. It didn’t hurt much, actually. It felt like little pin pricks.
“Do you like it?” Maggie asked.
The next second, he recoiled in disgust, wiping his mouth with a sleeve. “Foul!”
“I know, right? I warned you. I’m not like other girls.”
He wiped some more before gaining a bit of composure. “It was like I put a straw into the dirt and slurped up moldy worms. I wish I could vomit! I wish I could get the (cough) taste (cough) out of my mouth (cough).” He then took off to the kitchen, whipped open the refrigerator, and downed half a liter of Pepsi.
Maggie was ticked. That bottle was supposed to be her after-dinner nightcap. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re not supposed to go into a stranger’s fridge and start taking stuff for yourself.”
Ryder slumped to the ground, and guzzled some more. He paused to say, “I’m in your apartment, I just revealed I’m a vampire who wanted to suck your blood, and you have an issue with me opening your refrigerator?”
Maggie took off her shoes that were pinching her toes a little too much, and threw them in the corner of the dining room. “You are pathetic, you know. I thought you people aren’t supposed to eat or drink anything other than blood anyway.”
Ryder set the liter down, finally, and looked absolutely spent. “That’s true. I’m drinking it through my incisors. I’ll be in a world of pain, but it won’t harm me this way. Anyway, Foul Girl, what are you supposed to be, if you are neither human nor a vamp?”
Now it was time for her to have fun. She crouched down as best she could in her tight dress, and said, “A zombie.”
His eyes went wide. “Well, if I cannot have the delight of your blood, I will take pleasure in tearing you into shredded card board.” He rose, his feet no longer touching the floor. There was mania in his eyes as he floated toward her, his countenance revealing the inner dimensions of a demon . . .
*
Maggie’s cell phone rang. Before answering, she finished topping her treat off with plenty of whip cream from a can. “Hello?”
“Hi, Maggie,” Alex’s concerned voice came through. “I couldn’t wait. I was too worried. Tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.”
She heard him breathe out in relief. “Good. It’s after midnight—is your date over?”
“He is done with.” She smiled and added a cherry on top of the whip cream.
“How was it?”
“It sucked.”
“What are you doing now?”
She looked down at the odd-shaped brain of a serial killer sitting in her bowl, loaded with toppings. Oops, she almost forgot the hot fudge. She sniffed the sweet and pungent aroma of her delicacy, before grabbing the hot jar of chocolate, and poured the stuff all over. It had been so long since she last had a brain. “I’m eating… some ice cream.”
“A little midnight snack.”
She chuckled to herself. “More like a monster midnight snack, if you ask me.”
“Okay, then have a good night.”
“I will. Nighty night.”
*
Midnight Snack is a modified chapter from Molly Snow’s To Kiss a Werewolf spin-off novel, To Date a Werewolf.
*