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What was with me and rambling around this guy? I wasn’t usually so chatty. Then again, it was rare that I was talking to someone who seemed intent on listening, not just waiting for their turn to speak.
“Is it weird to talk about food when you don’t eat?”
“Not at all.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Eating?”
“Yeah.”
“I suppose I did for the first fifty years or so. Back when I remembered how things tasted. That is no longer a problem.”
“So, when you walk past a bakery, that fresh-baked bread scent does nothing for you? Because I can barely keep the drool in my mouth.”
Great picture you’re painting of yourself there, Maggie.
“I still appreciate scents. Perhaps more than when I was human.”
“Because you have super-scent now?”
That got a quirk of his lips.
“Because back when I was human, the world smelled a lot less pleasant.”
“Early sewage systems…”
“And horses everywhere.”
“So, there are some things you like about the modern world.”
“Why would you assume otherwise?”
“Oh. Um. Just some things you’ve said. You know, when I was tuning into your show. For research on helping you make it be the best it can be.” Overkill, much? I needed to calm down. “It seems like you prefer a lot of things how they used to be.”
We paused at a crosswalk and he sat with the comment for a moment. “I don’t think it is correct to think I don’t like the modern world. But that’s not to say it’s perfect. There are some things that were perfected many years ago that have not improved with advancements.”
“Such as?”
“Record players. They give the music texture. Safety measures aside, cars and trains. They used to have style. Modern architecture is cold and soulless.”
“Right? How did mankind look at turrets, mullions, cornices, and friezes and go You know what would look better here? Straight, plain concrete.”
“Precisely. On the other hand, I am a big fan of refrigeration, electric lighting, washing machines, and modern plumbing,” he added with a little grin.
“Hey, over here,” Tess called.
I jumped, forgetting for a minute there that we weren’t alone.
I turned to my best friend to find that hint of red in her eyes blazing brighter. And I just knew there would be a long discussion over breakfast about how wrapped up in the conversation I’d been with Silas. It would eventually devolve into her insisting that I needed to sleep with a vampire and tell her if their junk felt different because it was cold to the touch.
“Are you sure we’re going to get in?” I asked when I noticed the line half-wrapped around the block.
“Um, have you met us? We’re practically famous,” Tess, ever humble, declared. “Plus, that’s Margo’s ex-situationship.” She gave a finger wave to the bouncer who was too busy eye-banging Margo to notice. “Shall we?” she asked.
With that, she linked her arms between mine and Silas’s and led us into the club.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
