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“Wear the red dress,” Zoe called as I made my way toward my room.
“I don’t have a red dress.”
“I do. You can thank me later.”
* * *
“You’re going to Orselli’s. Neil will be there any minute.” Zoe reported when I emerged an hour later, wearing her too-low-cut-for-comfort candy apple red dress and four-inch heels. The heels I was comfortable in, barely reaching 5’3” without them, I’d been using them since I was fourteen. But the hemline of the dress, I kept tugging at. And it had to be lower on my sister, who was a good two to three inches taller than me and extremely well endowed.
“Pasta? Okay I’m down for more carbs,” I said with a grin.
“Hang on.” Zoe ran into the master and returned with a bag full of makeup and a necklace with a tiny heart-shaped charm dangling from it. She handed it to me and proceeded to fix my face without asking.
“What’s the charm do?” I asked, unfamiliar with it.
“It’s for you. I’ve been working on it since the fire. It’ll prevent anyone from using glamour or suggestion on you. There.” She stepped back and admired her work. “You look hot as hell.”
I fingered the charm around my neck, overwhelmed by the gift. She’d carefully avoided mentioning the incident since it happened and even sheltered me from Mama’s overprotective helicoptering. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“You aren’t the only one who’s been working on helping with the vamp problem,” she said, rubbing my bare arms. “Try to have fun.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and shouldered my bag. With a wave, Zoe transported me to the restaurant, and I stumbled slightly at the strange pull in my stomach. Both of us had abilities no one should. It ran in the family, I mused as I followed a hostess to my booth. The ambience was certainly romantic, with dimmed lighting, flickering candles, and the scent of warm garlic bread permeating the air. Soft jazz played in the background as she led me to a private booth in the rear of the restaurant, a curtain partially obscuring it.
The man I recognized as Neil smiled the second he saw me. He ran a hand back through his already messy brown hair, and I had to admit the way his glasses sat slightly askew on his face was endearing. His aura was lots of nervous bursts of yellow over blues and purples. Nice.
“Hi,” he said as the hostess retreated. “I’m so glad you contacted me. To tell the truth, I didn’t think I had a shot.”
He was being honest, which was refreshing. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
“I’m glad you could make it on short notice too,” I said, opening my menu. “I thought it might be nice to have an intellectual discussion with someone for a change.”
He leaned forward. “I’d like that. I saw you’re a scientist? Biology, right?”
I nodded and took a sip of water. “Yeah. My work might interest you, actually.”
Before I could launch into a roundabout explanation, the waiter, with a nametag reading Steve, arrived with a basket of garlic bread and ready to take our drink order. Neil asked for a glass of chardonnay, and I requested a merlot.
“So what are you studying?” Neil asked, tearing off a bit of bread to stuff into his mouth.
“I’m studying death,” I said, leaning in conspiratorially. “I want to find a way to help revive subjects recently passed.”
Neil averted his gaze. “So you thought you’d date the necromancer.”
Guilt flooded me as our drinks arrived. We ordered, him spaghetti and me eggplant parmesan, which I took as a good sign I hadn’t scared him off.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, trying to get his attention back. “I apologize for how that sounded. I just thought it might be something we have in common.” I regretted lying to this obviously nice guy. I was so used to not telling people about my research, it was second nature to find an alternative explanation. But what harm did it do anymore? Now that my formula had turned into GoDKiller?
“The truth is—” I started.
“Your salads.” The distinctly feminine voice startled me. I turned to see who was delivering our food and saw Steve’s nameplate hooked crookedly above the unbeating heart of a vampire.
Chapter Two
I Meet a Vampire I Can’t Refuse
She slid a plate in front of Neil, who seemed nonplussed, then set mine down. Clearly, Neil had not noticed the nametag. I might’ve even let it go if not for that detail. After all, plenty of restaurants had waitstaff help each other out. And vampires existed in the world, and as long as they obeyed the rules set down by SHADE, they were considered normal citizens. Normal, blood-draining, animalistic citizens. But this one wanted to scare me or she wouldn’t have taken Steve’s nametag. Was he dead? Or had he been glamoured into giving it to her? I hoped it was the latter.
Carefully, I inched my hand toward my bag where my new emergency charm and stake waited like life preservers.
