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8
Vampires are wily, seductive creatures. Even if you think you are resistant to their charms, you are most likely thirty seconds from losing valuable undergarments.
—The Care and Feeding of Stray Vampires
Cal turned, with me still attached to him like a human barnacle, to find my sister leaning against the frame of the kitchen door, struggling to hide the look of smug triumph on her face.
“At least this time the hair is deserved,” Gigi said, gesturing at the tumbled mess on top of my head.
Cal snapped out of his lustful haze and set me on my feet. He carefully adjusted his jeans and fastened the top button. Vampires were incapable of blushing, but if Cal had had the blood flow necessary to tint his pale cheeks, he would have been roughly the color of a fire hydrant. He kept his back to Gigi and seemed unsure of how to stand. Taking pity on him, I stepped around him and stood as a sort of human shield against upsetting man-nipple exposure.
“Aren’t you early?” I asked.
“Well, where’s the fun in showing up when you’re supposed to?” she asked. “You don’t see nearly as much. By the way, was that Paul’s truck I saw pulling out of the driveway?”
“Gladiola.”
She blanched at the use of her proper name. “Sammi Jo’s grandmother dropped by for a surprise weeklong visit at dinnertime. I had to get out.”
I gave her a sympathetic little smile. “The one who tried to baptize you with bottled water?”
“Is that common practice now?” Cal asked quietly.
Gigi heaved a dramatic sigh and stretched across the couch. “Grandma McCuen says I’m a bad influence on Sammi Jo because we don’t go to church regularly.”
“Well, Grandma McCuen is a closet drinker who lost her car title at the bingo hall. I wouldn’t worry too much about her opinion.”
Gigi snickered and nudged me with her hip.
“This is Cal, by the way,” I said, pointing over my shoulder. “I’m not sure whether you were properly introduced last time.”
Cal nodded stiffly. “Teenager.”
Gigi gave him a mocking little salute. “Shirtless wonder.”
And there we went with the vampire nonblushing again. I would have corrected my sister, but frankly, if she was teasing Cal, she wasn’t teasing me. It was like having a human—well, vampire—shield against adolescent disdain.
“So, you’re a vampire. What’s that like?” Gigi asked, ignoring Cal’s indignant glare.
He parted his lips, his fangs dropping dramatically. “Like being a human, only better and for much longer.”
Gigi laughed, despite the dental display. And I couldn’t help but marvel at her ease with the walking national treasure of Greece. Why was it that my sister cowered when confronted by long division, but bared vampire teeth fazed her not one bit? I supposed that next to SATs, classroom queen bees, and constantly evolving body parts, the undead probably weren’t all that intimidating.
Apparently finished with risking suicide by sarcasm, Gigi turned on me. “I’m starved.”
“You’re always starved.”
“Dinner at Sammi Jo’s was sort of skimpy. Grandma McCuen believes that girls should be served half as much as boys at mealtimes because boys ‘work so hard.’ ” Gigi rolled her eyes.
“Don’t Sammi Jo’s older brothers stay home all day playing Xbox and smoking weed?”
“Apparently, it’s very hard work.” She made doe eyes at me and fluttered her lashes. “Elvis pancakes?”
I pursed my lips, surprised that Gigi was willing to bend her stance on sweets. It must have been a very stressful week at Sammi Jo’s. “I thought Elvis pancakes were verboten after the Great Carb Embargo.”
She put her arm around my shoulders, nudging my hip again as she jutted her chin toward Cal. “Well, I thought you didn’t bring work home with you. Rules were made to be broken.”
—
