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“It has been busy,” I admitted. “I drank some fake blood for breakfast, talked to my dead aunt, tried—and failed—to come out to my parents, discovered an unfortunate aversion to solid food, got stabbed repeatedly by my best friend, tested the various ways I can’t die, went to the grocery store, fed from a human —which was something I said I’d never do. You know, normal, everyday stuff.” I laughed far too shrilly. I was starting to sound drunk again. Great.
“Don’t worry about your parents,” he said. “They sounded very kind when I spoke to them on the phone. You’ll find a way to tell them, eventually. I could talk to them for you, if you’d like.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think that would help,” I said. “They don’t seem to remember things when you talk to them. But there is the tiny issue of my mother wanting you to come over for Sunday dinner.”
“She remembered me?” Gabriel’s gray eyes widened.
“You underestimate the mental acuity of the mother of a single woman. ” I nodded sagely. “She remembers the vague impression of an available man.”
“Unusual,” he admitted.
“It’s a biological imperative.” I grinned. “Doing that mind-wipe thing over the phone is pretty impressive, by the way.”
“I do what I can. I’ve never tried it on a mother before. I’ll have to concentrate harder next time.”
“Exactly how often do you plan on mind-wiping my mother?”
“I suppose that all depends on you.” He chuckled, reaching out to wind a coil of my hair around his finger. “I’m glad you came by. I was hoping to see you tonight, but I understood that you probably needed some space. I wanted to call you, but I find myself feeling…awkward when it comes to you.”
“‘Awkward’ is the word du jour,” I agreed. “So, I make you nervous?”
“Not quite nervous,” he said. “Just unsettled.”
I wriggled my eyebrows and inched a little closer to him. “Unsettled, that’s even better.”
I reached for his hand and pressed it into mine. “Look, the life I had before I met you, it wasn’t much, but I could handle it. I could have lived that way forever. And now it turns out that I will live forever, only it ’s a life I am completely unprepared for. I’ve never been without a plan, OK? I’ve never been without a purpose or a goal or a reason to get up in the morning. And now, I don’t even get up in the morning. I’m not going to lie, I’m terrified.”
Gabriel stared at me with an intensity that was unnerving and, well, mesmerizing. In my compulsive need to fill the verbal void that followed, all of the questions I’d been dying to ask spilled from my lips. After the whole “you sent a random stranger to my house” thing, I figured I was owed some answers.
“What do you do all day—night? Do you have a job? How is it that I’ve lived in the Hollow all of my life and I’ve never even heard of you? Do you feed from live—do we call them ‘victims’? Do you feed from Andrea? Or do you drink artificial blood? And where do we get those blackout curtains?”
He mulled over my diatribe(s) and at long last said, “I know you have questions.”
I smiled, thrilled to be the smug one for a change. “Yes, that’s why I just asked them.”
He made a noise I can only describe as a nasal reminder to watch the snarking. “All right, then, I do not have a job. I live off the profits of various investments I’ve made over the years. I devote my time to my own interests. As a vampire, I ’ve made an effort to stay out of the public eye. I ’ve taken extensive measures with local officials to make sure traffic and public interest are steered away from my property. But it seems wise for vampires to reconnect now that humans are adjusting to our presence. And there are certain things I miss about human society.”
“Appletinis?”
He scowled, but there was no real heat in it.
“Well, you were at Shenanigans.” I shrugged.
He snickered. “You are not a dull girl.”
“Thank you.”
He was smiling at me, so I thought it would be a good time to ask. “Is your relationship with Andrea part of your
‘reconnection’ with human society?”
“I do not have a relationship with Andrea,” he said. “I met her a little more than a year after she moved to Half -Moon Hollow. I introduced her to some acquaintances of mine. I admire and respect Andrea. She’s a friend. But we agreed that I would no longer feed from her in order to prevent…confusion.”
It was like Melrose Place, with fangs.
“I do occasionally feed from consenting donors,” he said. “I also drink the occasional bottle of artificial or donated blood. I prefer donated blood. And you can get blackout curtains at Bed, Bath and Beyond.”
I could have stopped there, but I was enjoying my power trip.
