CHAPTER FOUR
"So you don't like the new wife?"
Jane stirred her coffee. It was after midnight, and they were the only couple in the shop. "It's not that I have a personal problem with her, she's just...not our kind, is all. And yeah, before you say anything, I know how that sounds."
"She's Polish?"
She snorted a laugh through her nose. "Nothing like that...I'm not that big a bitch. I’m pretty sure. It's hard to explain. And you wouldn't believe me anyway."
He grinned, flashing his fangs. "Try me."
"No way, José.”
“It’s Will. Richard Will.”
“Heard you the first time, Will-Richard-Will. I want to hear about you. I didn't know there were such things as vampires. Assuming you're not some pathetic schmuck who filed his teeth to get the girls."
He considered lifting her in her chair, over his head, but decided against it. First, Public place. Second, he had no idea how she would react (and wasn’t that thrilling?). Third, and most relevant, it was unnecessary. She knew what he was, oh yes. She had felt his heart. And he had felt hers.
"I didn't know there were such things either, until I woke up dead."
She leaned forward, which gave him an excellent view of creamy cleavage in her wine-colored dress, but he was a gentleman and his gaze stayed on her face. "How old are you?"
"What a rude question.”
“Hey, you’ve known me for five minutes. You knew what you were getting into.”
“Fair. I’m not so old, for a vampire. Not even a hundred yet. And as it's not polite to ask a lady her—"
"Thirty-four."
Perfect. Giggling girlhood was left behind, she was closing in on her sexual peak, and the best was still ahead. He tried very hard not to drool.
"I'm the old maid of the family," she was saying. "Most of my friends mated young and have teenagers now."
"You have plenty of time."
She brightened and those gold-brown eyes fairly glowed. "See, that's what I always say! Just because we're trapped in a youth-obsessed society doesn't mean we have to do everything in our twenties. What's the damned rush?"
"Exactly. That's what I—"
"Except my family doesn’t agree," she said, her shoulders bowing in a manner he was sure was unconscious. "At all. They're very in-the-now, if you know what I mean. Sometimes there's...there are fights, bad ones, and you never know if today's your last day on earth.”
“Isn’t that true of all of us, all the time?”
“Yeah, in the abstract. It’s a lot more literal where I come from. There's lots of pressure to use every day to the maximum, to cram everything you can, as often as you can, and to make more of us, all the time. Nobody really stops and smells the fuckin' roses where I come from, you know?"
"That's fairly typical of...of people." He'd almost said 'of mortals', but no need to push things. As it was, he had a hard time believing this conversation was taking place. She'd insulted him, pounded him, knew what he was, and was now having coffee with him. Amazing! "If your life span is so brief—what? Seventy years or so? Well, of course you want to make every minute count."
"My family's lifespan is even shorter," she said moodily.
"Ah. Dangerous neighborhood?"
"To put it mildly. Although it's better since...well, it's better now, and I just hope it lasts."
"Which is why you can take care of yourself so well."
She cracked her knuckles, which made the lone counterman cringe. "Bet your ass."
"Indeed I would not." He stirred his coffee. He could drink it, though all it would do was make him thirstier. Instead he played with it; he enjoyed the ritual of cream and sugar. "I must say, you’re taking the existence of vampires with admirable equanimity.”
A shrug was his only answer. This has to be a dream, he thought, nearly dizzy with the thrill of it.
“How long are you in town?"
She shrugged. "Long as I want. The wedding's over, so we'll probably hang out for a couple days, then head back to our homes."
"And home for you is...?"
"None of your fucking business. Don't get me wrong, Dick, you seem pleasant enough for a walking talking parasite..."
"Thank you." Absurdly, he was pleased.
"...but I'm not opening up to you with all my vitals, no matter how good- looking and charming you are."
"So my powers of attraction aren't completely lost on you," he teased.
She ignored the observation. "And if you don't like it, you can stop pretending to drink your coffee and get the hell gone."
"I cannot decide," he said after a long pause, during which he guiltily put his spoon down, "if you're the most refreshing person I've ever met, or the most irritating."
"Go with irritating," she suggested. "That's what my family does." She glanced at her watch, which was wonderful. "I gotta go.”
“Say it isn’t so. And apropos of nothing, I love that you haven’t whipped out a hand-sized super computer even once.”
“Huh? Oh. I hate cell phones.”
“Be my wife.”
She laughed. “Moving pretty fast, doncha think? Anyway, I’ve gotta go. It's really late, even for me."
He leaned forward and picked up her warm little hand. The palm was chubby, with a strong life line. Her nails were brutally short and unpolished. "I must see you again. Actually, I would prefer to spirit you away to my—"
"Creaky, musty, damp castle?"
"—brownstone on Beacon Hill, but you're quite a strong young lady and I seriously doubt I could do so without attracting attention. So I must persuade you."
"Damned right, chum." She pulled her hand out of his grasp. "Try anything, and—"
"I'll vomit my teeth, or be split down the middle, or my head will be twisted around so far I'll be able to see my own backside—" She giggled. "Yes, yes, I understand. Have dinner with me tomorrow night."
"Don't you mean 'let me watch you eat while I play with my drink so people don’t catch on to me being a bloodsucker'?"
"Something like that, yes."
"Why?"
"Because," he said simply, "I've decided. You're refreshing because you're irritating. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a pleasant and stimulating conversation with a lady?"
She stared at him. "You think this has been pleasant?"
"I think it’s been enchanting!”
“Weirdo. Dinner, huh? On you?"
"Of course." Possibly on you, he thought, suddenly dizzy with a vision of licking red wine off her stomach.
“I was kidding,” she said. “You paid for all this.” Gesturing at the empty cups and plates, the crumbs. “I’ll get dinner.”
“Do I have your word?”
“You bet. And one thing about my family, we always keep our word. Besides, I gotta say it's nice to be myself with a guy and not have him clutch pearls whenever I say something the least bit—"
"Fucking obscene?"
She giggled again. "But you gotta tell me all about waking up dead, and what it's like to be on a liquid diet. And how come my family didn't know about you and your kind?"
"Why would your family know about my kind?"
"Because we’re competitive as shit and we like to think we know when there’s a predator in our litter box. So you'll feed me, and we'll talk about, y’know. Families and shit. Deal, Dick?"
"Deal...Jane."
"I find out you've got a dog named Spot, dinner's off," she warned, then crammed the last cookie into her mouth as she glided off into the night.