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"The answer is no," Clay said. "Yeah, it's going to waste, but it's not teatime, so stop drooling."
"Ha-ha. I was just considering whether I should offer to help."
"By sucking up the rest of it?"
"No, by drooling. You must be used to that, Professor, students drooling over you." She hopped off the trash can. "In this case, though, it might be more welcome than I suspect it usually is. I could stop the bleeding."
"How?" I said.
"Vampire saliva stops blood flow. Keeps our dinner from bleeding out once we're done feeding. I can do that here."
"Do I wanna ask how?" Clay said.
"Normally, I'd lick the affected area, which I know neither of us wants, so may I suggest some discreet expectoration onto that bandage?"
I looked at Clay. He nodded, grunted a thanks and I handed Zoe the bandage.
Zoe's saliva did the trick. Ten minutes later, as we walked down Bay Street, Clay's bandage was still white. But while that meant he wasn't strolling downtown wearing a bloodied bandage, he was still half-naked. With each honk or whistle, Clay's hands jammed deeper into his pockets and he stepped a little farther into the shadow of store awnings.
We'd been searching for a taxi since leaving the museum but, like everyone else, they seemed to have taken a personal day.
"I could take off my shirt too," Nick said.
"There's an idea," Zoe said. "Wait, let me grab my lip liner. I'll write 'Meet us at Remingtons' on your backs." She grinned. "Bet they'd get a crowd tonight, cholera or no cholera."
"Leave your shirt on," Clay said.
Zoe looked at me. "We could take ours off too. In a show of solidarity. It's legal here."
"It is?" Nick perked up. "Why have I not seen a single topless woman the whole time I've been here?"
"Because, outside of beaches and concerts, you probably won't. And if you do? They won't be anyone you want to see topless. Every time I see one, I thank God for eternal youth. But, still, it is legal." A sly look my way. "So, if you want to take your top off..."
"Trust me, these days, I fall into that category of women no one wants to see topless."
"I wouldn't complain."
Her gaze rolled over to Clay, expectantly. He just turned to watch a taxi zip around the corner, then swore when he saw it was occupied.
Zoe sighed. "Not even going to rise to the bait, are you, Professor?"
"Show me bait; I'll rise."
"Oh-ho. So you think just because I'm a woman--"
"Didn't think that at all. Doesn't matter."
"Well, you may be prettier right now, but don't forget who's the one with eternal youth. In a few years, that six-pack of yours is going to look more like a collapsible cooler bag."
"Yeah, probably."
Another sigh. She started to say something else when a trio of young women ogled Clay, tittering as they passed.
I waved toward a variety store with a rack of tourist T-shirts in the window. "Want one?"
"Please."
"I couldn't resist," I said as I handed him the folded shirt.
