“I will stop by after sunset on Monday,” he confirmed.
I nodded and took his coat off, handing it back to him. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“It is not safe for a human to walk the streets alone at night,” he said. “You should always remember this.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes at him as I turned toward my door. “No walking home alone, no getting between vampires and stakes. For someone who’s supposed to be part of what goes bump in the night, you’re pretty tightly laced, Warin.”
The vampire’s chuckle followed me as I walked into my apartment building.
I saw him through the window in my living room before I turned the light on, waiting.
My front slammed shut behind me, the noise making me jolt—I hadn’t meant to kick it closed with as much force my drunken for had apparently managed—and when I looked back out on the street, Warin was gone.
Such a gentleman.
7
“Raven says your hot friend is a vampire. Is that true?”
I blinked at Skye’s excited face as I paused mid-unwrapping my wooly scarf from around my neck. If was eight thirty on a Monday morning, and my brain had yet to wake up. That’s why I only managed an unconvincing, “Uh, what?” at my colleague’s unexpected question.
“Oh, my stars!” she gasped, mouth dropping open even as her eyes sparkled with elation. “He is!” She pulled the scarf from my frozen hands, spinning me half a round before lifting my hair out of the way to scan my neck. “Did he bite you? Did it feel good?”
“What? No, of course he didn’t! And he isn’t a…” My denial died on my lips at Skye’s raised eyebrow. Sighing, I shrugged out of my coat. “Fine. How did Raven know?”
“He had cold hands and is pale as a ghost. And she said she tried to feel for his pulse and couldn’t find one. She was a bit worried about you, but he seemed so nice.”
I rolled my eyes as we walked out of the staff room to the front of Dark Dreams to set up the till. That explained the many text messages I’d woken up to Saturday, about ‘checking in’ on me. “She checked his pulse?”
“Well, you know…” Skye made a flapping motion with one hand. “It’s one of her things, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh,” I agreed, because anything else would have been rude. Raven did tarot cards and palm readings for customers every Thursday, and claimed she had prophetic dreams. And it wasn’t necessarily that I didn’t believe her—I did have a stack of spiritual books at home, after all—it was just that her abilities always happened to pop up whenever they would get her the most attention. And she did dye her hair black and insist on being called Raven.
Of course, this time she’d been pretty spot on.
“Did you sleep with him?”
I shot Skye an exasperated look. “No! It’s not like that.”
“So you’re not seeing him again?”
“Well…”
“Oh, you are!” Skye leaned over the counter, shoving a couple of crystal skulls aside to level me with her blue eyes. “Tell me everything.”
I’d never really had proper girlfriends. School had been difficult, and I’d been branded the odd one out early on. And since I’d left Denver, I’d never stuck around anywhere long enough to make real friendships. As a result, gossiping about a man was kinda unfamiliar territory for me. Especially when that man was a vampire with completely platonic interests in me.
“I just find him really interesting. It’s a friendship—I’ve never really seen blood donation as a sexy thing, if you know what I mean.”
“Uh-huh. Nothing sexy about a hot man sucking on your neck.” Skye’s voice was dry as tinder. “How did you meet him? And don’t tell me that book club story again, I ain’t buying what you’re selling, girl.” She wagged a finger at me.
I sighed. “Fine. We both got kidnapped by some crazy fanatics. They tried to feed me to him, but he politely refrained. And then proceeded to save my ass. And before you ask—all I was doing was reading a vampire romance.”
Skye gaped at me, some of the excitement replaced by horror. “You were kidnapped? And you didn’t think to tell us? Fuck, Liv, did you go to the police?”
I grimaced. “Of course I didn’t. Best-case scenario, they would have hounded me for information about Warin, and I didn’t particularly want to sell him down the river after he saved my life. Not to mention that worst-case scenario, they’d have taken me as a vampire sympathizer and held me for the more unpleasant kind of questioning. Which, by the way, is why I’d really appreciate if this whole vampire discussion doesn’t get any further, okay?”
“But what about the people who kidnapped you? What if they find you again?” Bless her, she really did look genuinely worried for me. A small twang of warmth in the pit of my stomach made me reach out and pat her hand—I’d enjoyed working for Dennis more than I’d enjoyed any of my other retail jobs before, and it was in large part thanks to how sweet everyone was. The thought that if I stayed around this time, perhaps they’d turn into friends one day flitted through my mind as I took in Skye’s worried frown.
“You don’t have to worry. They won’t find me. It’s… been taken care of.”
“But—“ Skye’s protest died at my grim look. “Oh.”
I forced my lips into a smile. Time to change the subject. As much as I understood her interest in learning more about Warin—hell, I’d bombarded him with questions about his kind myself the moment I realized he wasn’t going to eat me—no one would benefit from dwelling on what exactly had happened to our kidnappers. The less you know, and such. “So how about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
* * *
It wasn’t until I was standing in the supermarket on my way home from work that same afternoon that I realized I had no idea what to serve a vampire guest.
The thought of not putting up at least a small spread for a visitor just seemed all kinds of wrong, but as I frantically spun around myself in the aisles hosting corn chips and salsa dips, it dawned on me that Warin would be pretty fucking difficult to cater for.
I couldn’t even open a bottle of wine. Or, well, I could, but it’d be entirely for my benefit.
It was only when I’d spun around myself for the third time that I spotted the sign for the butcher’s at the far end of the aisle—and an idea finally took form. Clutching my chips-and-dip filled basket, I hurried to the counter.
“Hi, can I have…” How much did a vampire even eat? “Four pints of pigs’ blood, please?” I shot the older man behind the counter a beaming smile, hoping I wasn’t giving off any “creepy cultist” vibes.
“Oh, how refreshing. It’s so rare to see the younger generations make some of the good old-fashioned dishes from scratch. Blood sausage, is it, dear?” he asked.