He strolled in and admired her apartment. A far cry from his secret lair in the basement, hers was a bright and cozy place with a slip-covered couch, a rocking chair, and a trunk for a coffee table. Its only decoration was a glass dish holding some colorful rocks and crystals.
Lit candles graced the fireplace, making the lavender room glow. Wind chimes he’d heard during summer months hung silent in the window, closed against the chilly night air.
“You mutht like thith color,” he indicated her dress and the walls.
“Yes, Plumb is my favorite shade of purple and purple is my favorite color.”
“Plumb, huh? Ith pretty on you.” He meant it.
He didn’t often compliment people, not that he didn’t appreciate a good-looking woman, but ever since his wife had died and left him a widower twenty-six years ago, he had no interest in starting up a relationship with somebody else. It wouldn’t be fair to a woman to let her think she’d be able to replace his late wife, so he avoided giving anyone the wrong idea. Morgaine had no such illusions though, so he felt safe telling her he’d noticed her attractive change.
“I had a makeover. Roz took me to a school for aspiring cosmetologists. It took them all evening to get the black dye out of my hair and recolor it to match my natural shade.”
“Tho you’re a natural blonde?”
“I guess so. My hair hasn’t been natural for about thirteen years, but I don’t notice a big difference at the roots now that it’s growing out.”
He wandered around the apartment, scanning the new age books on her shelves and noticing how neat she kept the place. “You mutht have gotten into the Goth thing a long time ago.”
“Yeah, you could say I was the high school weirdo.”
He smiled. “We were all weird in high thchool.”
She grinned back. “Have a seat. Can I get you some tea?”
“No, thanks. I came to athk you for thum magical help.”
“You want me to heal your fang?”
“Yeth.” He sat on the comfortable flowered sofa. “Did your thycic ability tell you what happened?”
“No, your lisp did.” She giggled and sat next to him.
Man, she’s pretty when she smiles.
“Let me see.” She scooted closer, and he opened his mouth.
Her gentle, warm fingers pushed his upper lip out of the way as she examined his mouth. Her own lips were slightly parted as she studied his injured fang thoroughly. Her breath was pleasant. Minty, as if she’d just brushed her teeth. He could lean in and capture those sweet pink lips in his and…Whoa.What was happening?
“Does it hurt?”
“Like a mutha. I have a metallic tasthte in my mouth too.”
“I can see why you wouldn’t be able to go to a dentist. It looks like the fang that isn’t healing well won’t retract, and I guess they’re not able to work independently, so the other one won’t retract either.”
“Egthactly.”
“It’s not the fang that’s broken—or if it was, it’s healed.”
“Yeth. The fang grew back, but the pain won’t go away. I bit into a thick thilver necklath.”
“Ohhh…You were poisoned. Okay, I’ll have to make a healing poultice so I can apply it directly to your gums. It will draw out the silver poison in your system. I’ll reinforce its power with a healing spell if you like.”
“Thankth. Will I ever be the thame?”
“Of course you will. Unless you’re talking about your pre-vampire days. That I can’t heal.”
He hung his head. “I know. I remember athking you that when I learned you were Wiccan. You thed there wath no thpell to cure vampirithm.”
