“But are you?” He gave me a look that made me squirm. “You have never embraced the power. Look at this.” He gestured to our surroundings. “You are living in the cast-off life of a failed woman. You won’t even drink blood. Tiffenie, you might have fangs, but you aren’t a vampire.”
I hissed at him and bared my fangs. “Just because I don’t do things the same way as you doesn’t mean I’m not a vampire.” But his words caught me off guard. Was he right?
Vlad didn’t respond. His conviction that he was right was infuriating.
“And what are you doing? How can you fall in love if you don’t trust someone?” I said, just to throw something back at him. “How could I ever trust you?”
“I’m just saying, leave Santa Claus alone. That’s too much.”
Just to piss him off I made direct eye contact and said, “I like Santa. I think he’s got something special in his sack for me.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes.
“You’re jealous,” I said. “Remember Y2K?” I remembered flirting with a guy named Steve all night, deliberately toying with Vlad, and then Vlad ripping my pale pink gown off like I was his only sustenance, like he was starving for me.
He leaned forward menacingly. “I don’t get jealous.”
“Okay, well, then you won’t mind me dating Tyrone.”
At that he made some kind of clearing-his-throat noise.
“You’re jealous,” I taunted. “I’m going to ask my therapist if you’re jealous. I’m pretty sure you are.”
“I don’t think that’s what therapy’s for,” he said.
“Have you ever been?”
“A woman tried to make me go to couples therapy once. I told her vampires don’t need therapy.”
When I laughed, he retorted, “We don’t. Maybe humans can have their feelings hurt, but vampires are too strong for that.”
“Do you have feelings Vlad?”
“I’m not sure what I’d call them. I have responses to situations. I don’t have…feelings.”
I leaned back in my chair and did my best impression of Dr. Rosetti. “Okay then. If it’s not a feeling, describe yourresponseto Tyrone.”
Cat jumped onto my lap and I stroked her fur.
“It’s a twofold response. Step one is analysis. I objectively viewed this situation and came to the conclusion that you are putting yourself in harm’s way. You’re making yourself vulnerable, and you wouldn’t defend yourself despite your powers.”
I pulled on Cat’s belly whisker, just because I couldn’t stop myself, and she rolled up in a ball and attacked my hand, kicking with her hind legs and biting.
“Cat, stop it,” I said casually, while she continued her assault on myhand. “Go on. Tell me step two of your response to my date.” “Jingle Bells” played in the background, at odds with the mood of the room. We both ignored it.
He cleared his throat. “Step two is a tactical response.”
“Tactical—that sounds a little military for the situation.”
“It means carefully planned to gain a specific response, which in this case would be your safety.”
“So you’re telling me you might drain him?”
“I would like to.”
With a laugh I confirmed my diagnosis: jealous.
“I need to get some sleep. I have to get up right after sunset for therapy.”
