The two men nudged each other out of the way, trying to be nonchalant, but it was incredibly obvious. I didn’t know how much more of them trying to top the other I could take.
Pete whipped around, sporting a white apron and putting a fist on his hip. “Calm down, yeh two. Me an da young man here got this. Yeh just relax, an dinner will be ready soon.” His wrinkled eyes grew hard, and without another word, both men retreated from the kitchen, finding seats in the living room.
“You must be magic,” I joked. “Those two usually never listen to anyone’s orders.”
Pete laughed. “They’d be losing da battle with me, son. I haven’ cooked fer more than one in a minute.”
“Really? When was the last time you had visitors?” I grabbed the bag of green beans, tearing open the paper-thin wrapping. “These are the skinny ones! My mom and I used to cook together. Would you mind if I make the vegetable dish?”
He nodded at me with a warming smile. “My wife, Patty, and I found this place an made what yeh see here. We loved camping in these mountains before the Da Great Worl’ War.”
I began to slice the ends off each of the beans, the knife gliding smoothly through the firm skin. “If you don’t mind me asking, where’s she now?”
He tossed a pile of potatoes into the bubbling, steaming pot, his expression turning somber. “Yeh’d think with everything that happened—pandemic, war, the Dogs, that one o’ those got her. But it was her own clumsiness. She tripped while we were out walking one day, an’ she fell off the side of a cliff.” He shook his head. “Patty was a clumsy gal, but I knew that. I shoulda been holding her hand.”
With a fine grater, I moved the lemon back and forth, its pungent scent tickling my nostrils as the zest collected in the bowl. The acidity of the juice stung the microscopic cut I didn’t know I was there. A sharp, burning sensation spread through my fingertip, and a quiet yelp escaped my lips.
“Thought ya’ll would be immune ta pain or somethin’.” Pete strained the steaming potatoes and began mashing them, adding sharp cheddar and rich cream. “Yer one of those vampires, aren’ yeh?”
“Me and Gabe.” I nodded before instantly regretting my decision to tell him. “But-but you don’t have to be scared or worry about us.”
“I wasn’t scared of yeh.” He laughed. “I knew yeh weren’t a threat when I saw those two bozos fightin’ in the snow. What were the fightin’ about anyway?”
My cheeks blushed as I grabbed a bowl full of water, adding a few ice cubes before I boiled the beans. My mother always blanched her green beans, plunging them into ice water afterward to give them an extra bright color and a delightful, almost snappy, crunch. Each time, she would offer me one tosample, a treat I never refused. “Me,” I answered. “Their egos, I suppose, too.”
“Ah, ego. Always da downfall of men.” Pete took out a frying pan and added some olive oil, waiting for it to heat up before adding the steaks. “Yeh must be pretty special ta them if they were fightin’ over yeh.”
As the beans chilled in the ice bath, I went to the stove, where Pete was already working. The clatter of pans and sizzle of oil filled the kitchen with noise and a delicious scent. In a frying pan, I added some oil and minced garlic. As the fragrant smell of the herb wafted into the air, I added the beans. “They seem to think so.”
“Don’ be so modest, yer in demand!” The last piece of steak landed in the pan with a loud sizzle, the rich smell of browning meat filling the air and silencing the music from the TV. “My Patty was a big believer in doin’ what makes yeh happy, so follow yer joy. It may be one o’ them or neither. Do what’s right fer you.”
I laid the steaming, tender beans into a ceramic bowl and added a sprinkle of lemon zest. “Can I borrow the potato peeler?” I took it from him and shaved off some strips of a block of parmesan, then tossed the two new ingredients, incorporating them into the beans. I reached my hand into bowl and brought a single bean to my lips. The familiar crunch and flavors on my tongue unveiled a long-forgotten memory.
“I think with everythin’ that’s gone on over the past fifty or so years, everyone forgot how ta live their lives. What it means ta be happy. We gotta get dat back, even when da world seems grim.” Pete piled the cooked filet mignon on a platter and handed me a large black bottle. “Yeh might like this with yer meal.”
I opened the cork and put my nose to the entrance. I expected the familiar cranberry and spice notes of wine, but a strange metallic sweetness filled my nostrils instead. “Is this blood?”
Gabe’s ears perked. “Blood? I’m almost out of my reserves.”
“Aye, they included it with the shipment. Take all yeh want!”
I threw the bottle to Gabe. “I’ve never heard stories or rumors that Dante was a vampire. Why would the lab be sent blood?”
He shrugged. “Either he’s a vampire…or someone else is.”
I looked at the movie and smiled. “This is a good place to stop, after dinner, Gabe and I will show you the dance we used to do during the Super Trooper song.”
“No, we won’t!” Gabe’s cheeks were red, but a hidden smirk was tugging at his lips.
“Everyone, come an’ get a plate. Dinner is served!”
Chapter Thirty
After a night of laughter, movies, and one too many cocktails, I felt Gabe stir next to me. Lazily, I opened my eyes to the stone ceiling of the cave, scratching at the irritating prickles on my skin. My boyfriend was staring at me intently, while soft snores rumbled gently from Jude on my other side. It was odd waking up in a dark cave. Even in Silvertown, the fluorescent lights turned on at a particular time, so although there were no windows, we knew it was morning. However, this cave was perpetually black.
“Morning,” I whispered.
“Good morning, handsome.” A subtle lilt colored Gabe’s quiet, almost hushed tone.
