Page 44 of Only Fangs

Gregory is manning the concierge desk again and I wave at him the second he spots me. His face falls. He’s definitely not thrilled to see me. But then he appears to paste a fake smile on his face and rushes towards the door, swinging it open.

“Ms Haywood. Welcome back to the Castle Brasserie. Please come in. We’ll get a table ready for you.”

I take a step back, confused at his effusive welcome. I can only assume that someone has been on a diversity awareness course and been told that vampires shouldn’t be treated like shit. You’d think that the normie establishments would have realised by now that vampires generally have deep pockets and plenty of time for dining out, we make excellent customers. Except broke old me of course, but I’m an exception to the rule.

“We’re so glad you came back for another visit,” Gregory says as he leads us to a table in the window. It’s undoubtedly their best table, with a view out onto the street and small vase of fresh cut wild flowers in the centre. “Let me bring you a drink while you peruse the menu,” he adds as he fusses over the napkins, making sure everything is absolutely perfect. “Merlot?”

“Please,” I reply, even though it might be better to have a glass of water after all that prosecco. Live a little, I whisper to myself.

We decide to gamble a little with our meals: Brody orders a starter for us both and I order the main. It seemed a good idea at the time, but then this plate arrives at the table. It’s basically a huge ball of white stuff with honey drizzled on top and surrounded by segments of fig and seeds.

“What is that?” I ask, staring at it with suspicion.

“Burrata,” Brody tells me. “It’s a soft creamy cheese. You’ll love it.”

Live a little. And so I take a forkful.

“It’s good, right?”

“It’s delicious. I’ve never had this before,” I tell Brody, who is laughing at the look of ecstasy on my face after the first bite.

“I don’t understand how you’ve never tried it, though. It’s on pretty much every menu.”

“Not in vampire places,” I tell him. “Honestly, most of those places still think a prawn cocktail is a risqué modern choice.”

“Maybe you should eat out with the humans more often,” he replies.

“Maybe I should.” I think we might be flirting. Again. I shouldn’t. But it feels natural. Like last night didn’t happen and ruin things. Not that there’s anything between me and Brody to ruin, but you know what I mean.

For the main course I’d ordered us an old classic: Duck à l'Orange. But as it arrives I feel like I’ve made the wrong choice, he’s going to think I’m just like all the other old school vampires who resist change. Especially as it’s served with braised red cabbage and dauphinois potatoes.

“Wow,” he says when the plate is laid in front of him. “This is one of my favourites.” He smiles at me and I relax instantly.

“You’re sure you like it?”

“It’s duck. In an orange sauce. What’s not to like?”

We decide to share salted caramel profiteroles for dessert and wash it down with our free glasses of muscat.

After dinner Brody and I head down to the canal and walk along the waterfront.

“My brother works here,” Brody says, pointing to something.

“Where?”

“It’s an outdoor activity centre for kids.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense with the whole paragliding thing.”

“Yeah. He’s desperate to take me to the top of that climbing wall and throw me off. With a harness on,” he adds quickly.

“What climbing wall?”

“That one.” He slides his arm across my shoulder to point me in the right direction.

I have walked this route a million times and never noticed what looks like a torture device standing four stories tall. “It looks terrifying,” I whisper.

“Yeah. But I guess sometimes the things that frighten us the most turn out to be incredible,” he replies. We’re so close that I can feel the warmth emanating from him. I turn to face him, my eyes snagging on his. He reaches up to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear.