I have had lots of awkward moments in my life. I was actually a connoisseur of them. For instance...I've been known to wave ecstatically at people I thought I knew, but actually didn't and they look at me like I've lost my mind. I've replied to a really good-looking guy when he said "Hey babe" only to realize he was talking to his girlfriend on his Bluetooth. Yeah...I confess...I've done that one more than once. Damn technology.
There was also the plethora of times I pulled a door instead of pushed and vise-versa. Walking on a crowded sidewalk and inadvertently swinging my hand into some guy's crotch. Embarrassing for me, usually painful for them. Then there's the ever popular texting a juicy bit of gossip to someone only to accidently send it to the person I was gossiping about. That one usually ends up in me needing to change my phone number. And my all-time favorite...Thinking there was one more step to go down and tripping over the unexpectedly flat ground...on prom night...in a dress that ended up over your head in a room full of your peers. Ah...good times.
All those moments came to mind, but none of them were quite as painful as sitting at this little booth with a brooding vampire and a pouting immortal. My eyes darted over to the counter and I sent a mental message to the cooks to hurry the hell up. But, instead, I got the waitress making her way back over to our table with her two best friends Jiggly and Wiggly on full display. Seriously? Did she magically lose two buttons from her blouse in the few minutes it took to fill three somewhat clean glasses with Diet Coke?
"Here you go," she said with a bright smile. Leaning down far enough into Fang's personal space, his face was close enough to motorboat her boobs.
It didn't take a genius to know what she was up to. Women had the ability to know. They just know...even if they didn't know, they'd still know. Men don't get it, but women do, because they know. Besides, it's not like a man would ever say, "Get your fabulous breasts off me", so we have to know these things. You know? I hope so, because I think I just pulled a brain muscle trying to explain it.
"Thank you," Fang said politely, going a little cross-eyed as he looked at her name tag two centimeters from his left nostril. "Brittany."
"Yes...thank you, Brittany," I muttered, rescuing the other two glasses off her tray before they were dumped to the floor. Handing one to Courtanya, I snatched a couple of straws out of her apron while she continued to make googly eyes at Fang. Tapping mine moodily on the table, I viciously stuck it in my drink. Figures she would have a cute name like Brittany. It was a perfect fit for her perfect face, perfect hair and perfect set of double D's. She was cuter than the fuzz on a puppies butt...and I wanted to shave it.
Not that I could blame her for being dazzled, even though I totally was and wanted to grab her by her blonde pigtails so I could slam her face into the plate-glass window. After all, Fang's deliciousness had woken my genitals from their long winter hibernation. Who am I kidding? They had been pronounced dead for years. I glanced over at him. He was just so...well...yummy. Yummy and handsome and tall and his muscles were sculpted and just so...so perfect. It really should be against the law for any one man to look like he did. Big hands. Big teeth and I would bet my best pair of shoes...if I had any left...that he would probably put those statues to shame.
"She wants to mate with him," Courtanya leaned over and whispered. Giving me a look of pure glee when her words made me spew out my Diet Coke.
"Oh gross!" Brittany yelped, jumping out of the way of the soda shower.
"My bad," I muttered, taking a napkin and sopping up spittle.
"You okay, Red?" Fang asked kindly. A harmless smile stretched his lips, covering his not so harmless fangs.
"I'm fine." I smiled at him and glared at Brittany who was still brushing off droplets of Diet Coke. I wasn't the least bit worried about flashing my fangs because she wasn't remotely looking at me, but busily making sure Fang got a perfect view of her bazonga's. "I'm just hungry is all."
"Indeed," he murmured silkily, raising that infernal eyebrow at me. "I can feel your hunger."
The way he said it had my face turning crimson. Damn him and his wicked accent.
"I'll go check on your order," Brittany said cheerfully, bouncing up from hovering her hooters over him.
"We would greatly appreciate it, Brittany." Fang gave her one of his sensual smiles.
The girl wobbled and clutched the table. I imagine her ovaries just laid an egg.
I gave him a look that said I was onto what he was doing, but he remained as smooth-faced as ever. Though his eyes gleamed in a way that made every hair on my body stand up and do the samba across my skin.
Waiting until the waitress was out of earshot, I leaned across the table. "Stop it," I hissed.
"He is our King. He can have any woman he wishes. As many as he wishes," Courtanya piped in, sniffing at her drink and wrinkling her little nose. "What is this demon brew?"
"It's not a demon brew," I said rolling my eyes. "It's Diet Coke. Drink it and shut up." I slumped back in the booth, refusing to look at either of them. The awkward silence of earlier was far better than listening to the vampire version of Fabio seduce his next female conquest while Bubbles cheered him on like a degenerate cheerleader.
I mean, he could consort with anyone he wanted. What did I care? It wasn't like we were dating or something. I snorted under my breath. He was a free to be with anyone he chose to be with and the same went for me. I was a free agent. Just because I wouldn't mind seeing her face smooshed against the grill of a speeding bus I was driving, didn't necessarily mean I was jealous. If he wanted blondie with the floatation devices strapped to the front of her chest, then far be it for me to get in the way.
An image of the waitress and Drake together in a bed, writhing around together in ecstasy flashed through my subconscious. Cold dread reached in and grabbed my heart in a choke hold. Suddenly, the smell of bacon, syrup and waffles made me sick. Which was just sick! Damn Bubbles. I needed to get that girl a muzzle.
The abrupt stiffening of Fang's legs under the table and the low growl he was admitting, shook me from my jealous musings. Glancing up, I saw a look of pure, unadulterated hate seething from his diamond eyes. It was the kind of expression that scared the hell out of me. I hated it when he went all 30 Days of Night on me.
"Good evening, Drake." A deep, rich baritone snatched my attention away from the fuming vampire across from me to the man standing next to our table.
The man flashed a smile which appeared to be as harmless as a teddy bear, but under the surface it promised something dark and dire. He was dressed all in black. From the tips of his fancy leather shoes with the tassels, to the silk tie flawlessly coifed around the neck of his black shirt tucked into his perfectly pressed slacks and fancy, inky belt wrapped around his lean hips. He held a black suit jacket, draped casually over one arm, but there was no doubt in my mind that it would also be devoid of any wrinkles or defects.
Technically, he appeared for all the world to be any other good-looking man. He had a full head of professionally styled salt-and-pepper hair with a dark tan which made him look like a wealthy semi-retired gentleman who spent his days sipping bloody Mary's at the country club while he and his buddies brunched before a rousing game of golf. But...I tilted my head to the side...the look was deceiving. There was something about him that caused every warning alarm in my brain to fire off simultaneously. As in...he was far more likely to know a 1001 ways to kill you with a golf club rather than putter around with it on the greens.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Courtanya shrink back. Her face as pale as the pearly whites he flashed at me. If my murderous minion was scared of him, it didn't bode well.
"What are you doing here?" Fang asked intimidatingly, flashing his long canines briefly. His hands moving in a blur to grab a gun he didn't have.
"Now, now...Drake," the man admonished. "We don't want to cause a scene amongst the humans do we?" Turning slightly, he nodded his head to two big, hulking men I hadn't seen come in. Both reached a beefy palm into their suits like a twin set of synchronized swimmers. I was pretty positive they were packing, either that or they both had an itch under the same armpit.
Shrugging one of his shoulders, he turned back to Fang. "I was in the area and thought I would stop in for a bite to eat. How fortuitous you just happen to be here." He cocked an eyebrow at me and his easy-going smile widened.
To anyone in the restaurant it would have appeared as nothing more than someone who was happy to see someone else, but I got the feeling he was far more dangerous than any of the vampires I had encountered. Including Druilla. Right now, I'd take that wanker welding wackadoo over this guy any day.
Reaching out, he grabbed a chair from one of the tables and dragged it over to our booth with a bone chilling screech before gracefully folding himself into it. The two identical bodyguards also took a seat, directly across from us and well within firing range. The black wraparound shades they wore gave nothing away, but I could feel their piercing gaze painting targets on my forehead.
"Why don't you introduce me to your beautiful friend?" He kept his eyes, a flat, dark brown color, centered on my face and my stomach pitched sending a burp of bile up my throat.
"Can I get you something?" Brittany timidly asked our new unwanted guest. Apparently, even she could sense something was not quite right about this guy and for once wasn't ogling Fang, but stood looking nervously at her K-Mart tennis shoes.
"I would like a cup of coffee, please. Black." He gave her one of those bone chilling smiles of his and Brittany mutely nodded her head and dashed off. Her shoes squeaking in her rush.
"How did you find us?" Fang asked, his hands clenched into tight fists on top of the Formica.
"As I told you, vampire. I was in the area," the man said, never taking his eyes off me. "Tell me your name," he demanded quietly, his leer never wavering.
His warm smile was as cold as a well digger's ass. I glanced over at Fang who looked like he was about to go into a homicidal meltdown by ripping off the guy's head and introducing him to his prostrate. Turning back to Mr. Smiles, I had no doubt this man knew who I was and I had an uneasy inkling that I somehow should know him as well. Clearing my throat, I decided to play along with the little game he started.
"I'm Melanie, but people call me Mel," I said, giving him one of my patented I'm too stupid to live grins. The less of a threat he saw me as, the better. Besides, playing dumb often worked in getting me out of lots of uncomfortable situations and the occasional speeding ticket.
"Melanie." My name crawled off his tongue like something slimy you'd find under a rock. "Such a pleasure to finally meet you." His hand shot out and snatched mine in his clammy grasp before I could blink. Bringing it to his lips, he brushed a kiss over my knuckles. His lips were surprisingly warm compared to the coolness of his hand, but still...ewwww. I felt like I needed to soak them in a gallon of Purell.
Tramping down my gag reflex, I took back possession of my hand. Sticking it under the table, I scrubbed it roughly against my jeans which were filthy, but compared to his lips...they were a hell of a lot less disgusting.
A low rumbling growl that vibrated the ice in the cups rolled out of Fang. "Touch her again and you will lose your arm," he warned throatily. His icy eyes practically shooting out laser beams.
"I am simply acquainting myself with what is mine," he said smoothly, his eyes still never leaving mine.
A creepy silence surrounded us like a fog. My mind churned wildly over his words. Mine? I peeped over at Courtanya who sat with her head bowed down. Her small chin tucked to her chest, her blonde bob covering up her face, but I could see her hands nervously knitting in her lap. Holy Moses on a pogo stick! Who was this guy?
"Here's your coffee," Brittany muttered, slipping the cup in front of him and hurriedly making her escape.
The arrival of his coffee finally relieved me of his eyes as he turned them towards the murky liquid and frowned. "How unbelievably foul. You'd think they would at least be able to serve a decent cup of coffee," he grumbled, taking his finger and pushing it away from him. I noticed his nails were impeccably manicured as he produced a stiff handkerchief out of thin air like a magician. Shaking out the black square with a snap, he delicately wiped off his fingers before tucking it back to wherever he had pulled it from.
"She is not yours," Fang growled, looming in closer to our guest, "and you are no longer protected."
The man's nose flared, but it was the only outward sign he gave. The rest of his face stayed stoic.
"I believe you are mistaken, vampire. It is you who is no longer protected by the Colony." He sat up and straightened his already immaculate tie. An ornate gold ring on his right hand twinkled in the florescent lights. "I hear my gift was not well received among your species." Giving a little shake of his head, a grin snaked across his lips. "So paranoid you vampires are. Scared of something so...," he turned to me, his dead eyes skimming over my flesh making it crawl. "Beautiful and precious."
A gift? Beautiful? Precious? Okay...I have to admit, it was somewhat refreshing to finally be called something other than an abomination or the redheaded spawn of Satan. Even if it was coming from a scary guy who looked at me like a perverted preacher's wet dream.
"How do you know what happened at the Colony?" I asked. I knew I should have stayed quiet, but morbid curiosity got the better of me.
"You will learn my darling, I have my ways." His gaze was cool. Dark eyes boring into mine. If felt about as pleasant as it sounds. "I have a proposition for you."
"You have nothing she wants," Fang snapped. "And it is you who is mistaken. The Colony no longer protects you from me."
"Indeed," the man drawled. "Then the next time we meet it shall not be so civil." Glancing at me, he pulled a business card out of his pocket and held it out. I didn't move a muscle. Shrugging, he placed it on the table and pushed it over to me. "If you change your mind, my darling Melanie, and you wish to be treated like the Queen you deserve to be. Call me. I can tell you why you are so very special from the rest," he paused, giving Fang a disgusted look before laying those black eyes back on me, "of the trash. I can make all your dreams come true. Together, my darling, we will be unstoppable."
He stood up and with poise, pulled on his jacket, adjusting the lapels with a quick snap of his wrists.
"We will speak again." He bowed down and ran the tips of his cool fingers down my cheek. "There will come a time when you will want to know the truth. Until then, my darling, I will be waiting." Nodding to his two goons, he turned and left with them trailing behind him hot on his heels.
I stared long and hard at the small rectangle card lying in front of me. It seemed innocent enough, except for the name written in blood red on the front.
Abram Stoker.
Authors Note:
So Mel has met her sire...so to speak. Will she take the card? Stay tuned to find out!
Hello my FANGED Fiends!
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K