"Um...I guess that could be fun. Where do they live?" Please don't say a castle...
He nodded vaguely to the right of us. "They manage a ranch about sixty miles from here, near Mount Diablo."
I nodded as I absorbed that. "Wait...your family are ranchers?"
He smiled, like he didn't see anything odd about that. "Yeah."
I pulled away to look at him better. "Your...vampire family...are ranchers?"
He laughed at the expression on my face. "Yeah, it kind of makes sense for us, if you think about it."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
He took my hand and we started walking through the grass, catching up to his hyper collie that was chasing his tail, ten feet up the lawn. "Well, to the outside world, my family comes from a long line of successful ranchers, but to us...," he glanced over at me walking beside him and gave me a wicked grin-he only needed his fangs out to complete the look, "...to us, it's more of an open-air pantry."
I paled a bit as that statement sank into the ridges of my brain. I envisioned the teeth that he had dragged along my neck, plunging deep into some poor Holstein. "Oh...I'm never going to be able to look at a cow the same way again."
Laughing, he squeezed my hand. We watched Spike roll on his back and frolic in the sun, and I thought about meeting his family...his vampire family. Dealing with his weirdness was one thing-I mean, for the most part, he acted completely human. But he was only slightly vampire. The rest of his family would be even more foreign and his great-grandmother was a full-fledged mistress of the night. I had to admit that it intimidated me a little bit. Although, it was nice to hear that they snacked on livestock.
"We've only been dating a few weeks...isn't it a little early to bring me home?"
He smiled down on me as Spike ran up to him and licked his jeans. "You got so irritated by the abstaining you thought we were doing, I don't want to mess up again by making you wait."
I frowned at him and he pulled me tight. "I really do need to go up there...it's been too long. And I'd love for you to join me. I'd love for you to meet them, and for them to meet you." He looked down as we walked, seeming almost shy. "You're kind of important to me."
"Oh," I said quietly.
Before I could respond further, he added, "It's not every girl who would stick around after hearing what I really am." He nudged my shoulder playfully. "And you're really pretty."
I smiled as he bent down and clipped Spike's leash back onto his collar. We made our way back to his Toyota Prius (yes, my vampire drove a hybrid), and went over to a breezy outdoor diner for a late lunch. At the end of our day and a half date, he drove me home, walked me to my door, and kissed me goodbye like a perfect gentleman.
In the safety and solitude of my cute, Victorian townhouse, I analyzed how much things had changed in my life in the past twenty-four hours. Vampires were real. I was dating one. I'd slept with one-twice. He wanted to take me home to his...nest. He thought I was really pretty.
I had a dream that night, once I finally fell asleep, of being surrounded by beautiful, black-haired women with sharp fangs and glowing eyes, and a deep voice rumbled in my head, "Don't worry...they won't eat my girlfriend."
Chapter 2 - What's That?
Monday morning at work I was approached by my rotund boss, Clarice. She had gray hair, with streaks of brown, and she coiled it into a bun so tight that it pulled some of the wrinkles out of her face. She wore "professional" clothes straight from the fifties, which is when I think she started working here. A shapeless gray skirt that hit her mid-calf, with a basic white blouse tucked inside it and as the topper-June Cleaver pearls. She tended to look at my slacks, lacy camisoles and fitted jackets with her lips twisted in a small scowl, like she thought I looked inappropriate. I rebelled in my own small way by almost always wearing my hair loose and bouncy and leaving my jackets unbuttoned, so just a hint of my sublime cl**vage showed.
"Emma."
I smiled warmly at her vapid face. "Good Morning, Clarice." As I smiled, I wondered if my boyfriend wouldn't mind draining her. If only just enough to keep her home for a few days, so I could try my hand at being Mr. Peterson's assistant. Being his assistant brought along the more prestigious assignments and of course, the yearly trip to Belize. Being his assistant's assistant...did not.
She harrumphed at me and handed me a half-foot stack of papers. "I need these copied and collated in triplicate by lunchtime."
On second thought, I didn't want her vile blood swimming around his system.
I kept up my fake smile. "Sure thing, Clarice." Anything for the sea hag. Eventually she had to retire, I kept repeating to myself.
She started to leave, then almost as an afterthought, she turned her thick neck and said, "Gate Magazine sent flowers for you. They're in the break room."
My smile became real. "Oh, thank you."
She twisted to face me. "If you're going over there to work for that Adams man, you should put in your notice."
"I'm not going anywhere. Thank you, Clarice." I kept up my smile until she left my cubicle.
My friend Tracey popped her head over the short wall separating our "offices". She was blonde and beautiful and spunky as could be. Clarice couldn't stand her, but didn't have to talk to her much, since she was the assistant for Mr. Sampson's assistant. Tracey had started working here a week after me, and since we shared a thin wall in our cubicle hell, we'd become fast friends.
"Hey, Emma, Teren send you flowers again? He's such a good man." She looked over my desk to Clarice's office, which was right outside of Mr. Peterson's office. "The witch had them sent to the break room instead of leaving them on your desk. I think she's hoping someone tosses them." She shook her head of blonde hair. "I'm surprised she didn't toss them herself."
I smiled as I set the papers Clarice had handed me down on my desk. Teren worked at Gate Magazine, a regional monthly magazine specializing in San Francisco life-places to go, places to eat, events in the area, local news, and stuff like that. He wrote articles for the life and style section which now I actually found a little humorous. I let Clarice think he was trying to woo me away for a job so she wouldn't complain about my personal life intruding on my work life. She was irritating that way.
I sighed with contentment as I answered her. "He's the best, Trace." I left out that he was slightly more than just a man. "We finally had our night." I winked to indicate what I meant.
Her blue eyes widened at me. "All right, 'bout time." Her pixyish face relaxed into an Isn't he sweet look. "Oh, and he sent you flowers afterwards. Ugh, if you don't marry that man, I will."
I laughed as I wondered what Tracey would think about him, if she knew as much as I now did. I nodded my head towards the break room. "I better go retrieve my flowers."
She ducked her head back down as I made my way down the hall to the communal room used for coffee and food breaks. A few men that I passed subtly checked out my chest as I walked by, and for a moment, I wondered if I was setting womanhood back by showing off my "rack". Or maybe I was showing empowerment-I am woman, hear me roar. Sometimes it was a fine line to walk. I pushed the odd thought away as I reached the room and stared at my arrangement of calla lilies. Teren did have good taste.
I reached inside for the card and pulled out the small envelope from a local shop. Inside, Teren had written, "Thank you for a surprising weekend". On the bottom he'd drawn a smiley face with fangs. I chuckled at his sense of humor and shook my head-his weekend couldn't have been anywhere near as surprising as mine. I tucked the card into my pocket and, grabbing the vase, headed back to my desk. I placed them right on the edge, where Clarice would see them every time she walked by.
Monday nights were kickboxing at the gym, so after work, Tracey and I headed over there and sweated out our cubicle frustrations by envisioning our bosses as we kicked and punched the air. The music-laden class was being subbed tonight by an extremely hot guy named Ben. The usual instructor was a peppy girl named Lita, who made the class amusing with her anecdotal comments, as well as difficult.
Hot Ben didn't do much for me (my guy was hot and supernatural) but Tracey found his highlighted hair, bulging biceps and chiseled, model-like features distracting. Eventually, he had to come over and help her position her feet correctly for a side kick. As he adjusted her hip, Tracey looked over at me and winked really fast. I rolled my eyes at her as he walked away from us.
They were chatting after class as I waved goodbye, Tracey putting a hand on his shoulder and laughing at something he was saying. I was pretty sure that he'd have her number by the time I got to the dressing room. I showered at the gym, politely averting my eyes from the flock of eighty-year-old women who no longer cared who saw them buck nak*d, and changed into date clothes.
After drying and restyling my hair, I redid my makeup and grabbed my gym bag. Slipping into my car, a cute little yellow VW Bug, I headed over to Teren's house for a late dinner. He met me in his half circle driveway and opened my door. Must have heard me coming. I'd have to remember that his hearing was probably not just good but "enhanced," and I'd have to be careful what I muttered around him, or within a block radius of him. Who knew how enhanced he was?
"Hello," he said, with a sweet smile and an even sweeter kiss.
"Hello to you, too," I replied, slipping my arms around his neck. "I loved my flowers."
"Good. I was wondering about that." He grabbed my hand and we started walking to his house. Teren lived in a modern, two-story home, with panoramic views of the Pacific. Unlike my house, which was firmly sandwiched in-between my neighbors, his home was spaced from the houses surrounding it. It was a very nice spread.
I squeezed his fingers as we walked up his steps. "Tracey's going to marry you, if I don't."
He laughed as he opened his wrought iron and wood front door. "Oh good, as long as someone is going to. How do you think she'd feel about...?" He made a prong-like motion with his forefinger and middle finger, indicating fangs.
I put my purse and jacket in his entryway closet, nestled right in-between his heavy winter coat and his "only for special occasions" dress jacket. "You'd still be able to hear her screams," I said, laughing. Spike padded up to me, wagging his tail in clear merriment at seeing me again. I scratched behind his ear while I continued chuckling over the image of Teren fanging Tracey.
Teren laughed with me, and then grabbed both of my hands and pulled me through his formal dining room into the kitchen, where the incredible smells emanating from the stove started making my mouth water. Spike obediently followed us and lay down on the cool tiles in front of the fridge.
"That's why I like you so much," he said, pulling me tight to him in front of the oven.
I giggled and twisted away from him to sneak a peek at a saucepan bubbling on a burner-it was thick, white and smelled delicious. "Is that why your weekend was surprising? Because I didn't scream?"
He came up behind me and slipped his arms around my waist as I stirred the creamy goodness and then took a lick from the spoon. It was an Alfredo sauce and it was incredible. My stomach rumbled. "You only screamed when I wanted you to..." he whispered in my ear. I elbowed him in the ribs and he grunted softly. It astounded me a little, that I could make a vampire grunt. He laughed, then more seriously said, "You have taken everything surprisingly well."