Page 53 of Blood Lovers

Or maybe not. Maybe it was just following the rules of The Art of War. Playing its role as a weak and defeated thing, all the while it was growing stronger until one day, it could rise again.

Well. I sigh. It has certainly risen at this point.

“Here we go.” Joshua pushes through the curtain holding a large paper grocery bag, folded over at the top. “Eggs, bacon, biscuits, and gravy. She didn’t know how you liked your eggs. The general guess when you don’t know is scrambled.”

“Sounds perfect.” And it does. My stomach actually grumbles. Loud enough for Joshua to hear it.

Which makes him smile, and that in turn makes me smile back. He’s just a nice man who cares about people and only wants to help them. He doesn’t see the evil, even when it’s standing right in front of him. Almost mockingly accepting his charity.

But I’m not mocking him.

“Thanks.” I offer my hand and we shake again.

He shoots me a stern look. “Don’t forget to check your temperature. Call the church if you feel too sick to come get medicine. And”—he holds up a hand, palm facing me—“no pressure or expectations, but if you feel like dropping by tomorrow at noon, you could meet the whole town in one swoop. They all attend church here on Sundays.”

I hesitate. God and me? What a joke. Not that I wouldn’t be up for a little salvation, but it’s way too late for that. “I’ll mention it to Syrsee.”

And I find that I really mean it.

Then I take the bag of food and go back out into the snow and wind.

Syrsee is sleeping when I get home and I don’t really want to wake her up—she looks so peaceful—but the food. It smells good and I want some. I’m actually feeling famished. And I want it to be hot when I eat it.

So I do wake her. She pushes her wild, dark hair out of her green eyes and when I present her with a hot breakfast, she gazes up at me like I’m her knight in shining armor.

We eat in bed, out of the glass dishes Emily packed our food in. She even gave us forks and they are not plastic.

“You know why she did that?” Syrsee is simultaneously chomping bacon and pointing to the glass dish with her fork when she says this.

“So I have to return them?”

Syrsee giggles and nods. “They’re gonna turn you into a church boy, Ryet.”

“Darling, you’re gonna be the one returning these dishes, not me.”

She nudges me with her shoulder. “I will too. Because that’s the girlfriend’s job.”

“Go make nice with the preacher and his wife?”

“Are you kidding? The way you described that food pantry? It sounds like a grocery store where everything’s free.”

“Oh, by the way, they’re your landlords. And I’m supposed to tell you that church is at noon tomorrow, so…”

She pauses her chewing, looking thoughtful for a moment. I have a sudden urge to kiss her. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“It’s weird, ya know?” She sits up a little straighter.

“What’s weird?”

“Yesterday I was pretty sure my life was over. I could not see a way forward from here.”

This is an odd statement, I think. Because moving to a new town isn’t the end of something, it’s the beginning. But she’s still talking, so I don’t have time to think about this.

“And I was really feeling down about leaving people behind. I have a life somewhere else, ya know?”

“Then why are you here?” It’s kind of a personal question. Not something you ask a woman you literally met last night. But we’re past that, I think. Sex does that for new relationships. Just kinda speeds everything up in an unnatural way.