“What? No!”
He laughed to show that he was kidding.
“Very funny.”
“Please, forgive me. It is not very gentlemanly of me to frighten you.”
“Okay, maybe I’ma littleon edge,” I admitted.
“I wonder what it must be like for you, being out with a vampire,” he said. “Aren’t you afraid?”
I thought for a moment. “I had a few days to consider this before I was booked for my first decoying. I figure vampires must have a huge amount of self-control for as long you’ve managed to exist underground, which to me says you’ve got a strong handle on your . . . urges.Humans are the real savages, if you ask me. A human could turn on me as easily, so why should I be biased because you have fangs instead of a gun or knife or whatever?”
“Vampires are extremely powerful,” he countered. “We could hurt even the strongest human with very little effort.”
I shrugged. “Sure, you’ve got strength and fangs, but so what? The other day, I saw a story about a woman who murdered her husband with a toaster, of all things. She hit him over the head with it while he was in the bathtub, and then finished him off by plugging it in and throwing it into the water.”
“Seems excessive,” he commented dryly.
“Right? So, if you look at it that way, vampires have strength and fangs, but humans are as equally dangerous because of all the creative ways they come up with to kill each other.”
He stared deep into my eyes. “You give my kind too much credit. I’ve encountered many malicious vamps in my day. Your trustworthiness concerns me, Olivia. My advice to you is to never let your guard down around vampires you don’t know, even if you’ve been hired to decoy for them.”
I consider myself a modern, independent woman, but it was sexy as hell, his concern for my safety. I raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say,I don’t knowyou, vampire.
Lucky for you,” he added with a wicked smile, “I’m one of the good ones.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Will a vampire turn malicious, then, if they don’t eat?”
“Vampires have the same murderous impulses as humans, but not having blood would also make them irritable, yes.”
“A vampire’s version of hangry,” I said, and he laughed.
“I, personally, buy my blood in bulk and keep it stocked in a wine cellar in my home. I also keep a flask inside the limousine in a temperature-controlled compartment. So, you don’t have to worry that I’ll get hangry with you.” He winked. “Frankly, it’s new vampires who struggle with hunger the most. Older vampires like me have learned to adapt and cope, so I’m not dangerous when I’m hungry—then again, I’m always dangerous if you consider what I’m capable of. At least if I lash out, though, it won’t be because I need blood.”
“That’s good to know,” I said, reflecting on how insane our conversation would sound to an outsider. Had anyone been close enough to listen to us, men in white coats would have arrived soon after to lock us up. “How do you know when it’s time for a meal?”
“My fangs come out partially if I deny myself blood for too long,” he explained. “It’s like how a human’s stomach growls when they’re hungry. So, I must always remain cognizant of my hunger, or I’d risk my fangs sliding out in the presence of a human who doesn’t know that I’m an immortal.”
“Do you sleep in a coffin?” I blurted. He slowly blinked at me. “I’m sorry, but this is all new to me. This will be my last question . . . for a while.”
He sighed in feigned annoyance. At least, I hoped it was feigned. I’d hate for things to go back to the way they were when I first arrived at Robert’s place.
“I could sleep in a coffin, just as any human could, if they really wanted to. However, it’s not required that vampires do; our sleeping areas only need to be light-tight. I had sleeping chambers installed underneath my home when I purchased it,” he said.
I was glad to hear that. As much as I wanted to see this gorgeous vampire naked, I couldn’t imagine trying to have sex inside a coffin. Though, for Robert, I might consider making an exception.
I dug my fingernails into my palms.Get a grip, Olivia. He’s off-limits, not to mention out of your league.
“I believe the coffin myth arose because vampires used to masquerade as the dead when travelling overseas. The only way we could hope to remain undisturbed was to be transported in coffins, you see,” he explained. “Petty thieves on ships would frequently raid cargo, but only the hardened criminals would go near corpses—and there were plenty during desperate times, believe me. We’d use coffins of lowest quality, since thieves would be less inclined to break into them if they believed the dead individual inside had no valuables on . . .”
Our conversation was cut short by our waitress, who’d finally decided to grace us with her presence. Locomotive was a place I’d frequented while in school, so it had been a while since I’d been in, but I recognized Marge right away. She’d been working at Locomotive for as long as I’d lived in California, probably since the place had been opened. She was unapologetically bad at her job. Forgetting drinks was her specialty, which she’d serve with a big slice of hostility, particularly when dealing with bratty rich students. Depending on her mood, she’d occasionally give patrons a complimentary fifteen-minute wait for the check at the end of the meal. Twenty, if she was feeling surly.
Marge had always been nice to me because I’d always been nice to her. Respect, after all, is a two-way street. Also, my grandmother would have rolled over in her grave if I ever spoke down to anyone in the service industry—a waitress especially. I liked Marge. She was a woman who liked to keep it real. In some distant way, she reminded me of my grandmother, who had also waited tables at one point in her life.
As Marge approached our table, she looked us over and snorted, “You two coming from a wedding or something?”
She had a pencil nub tucked indiscriminately between her breasts, huge false eyelashes stuck crookedly on her eyelids, and a new bright red hairdo that could have doubled for a buzzard’s nest. Her locks were platinum the last time I saw her. The overhead fluorescent lights highlighted the varicose veins that marked her legs from ankle to thigh like thin bolts of blue lightning. Nail polish was chipped on every single one of her fingernails.
