Conversion (Page 25)

Chapter 8 – First Taste

Eventually he cooled off and came back downstairs. We ignored the fight. We ate our dinner and made small talk for the rest of the night and never again brought up the subject of changing my sister. It was still in the back of my head and I’m pretty sure, at least for that night, it was in the back of his, but he never again mentioned it. His answer had been pretty clear anyway.

Aside from that disagreement, our relationship went pretty smoothly. We went for long walks through the park or on the beach. Sometimes we brought Spike with us and he’d frolic and play while we held hands. Sometimes we went alone, and we’d find a secluded spot and kiss under the setting sun, my vampire was a touch on the romantic side. We ate dinner on his patio or out at a small bistro that we both liked. He started favoring bloodier and bloodier meat, and I tried not to think about the reason for that.

We went on a double date with Tracey and Hot Ben, who both enjoyed Teren’s company. It didn’t take long for it to turn a regular thing. We started going out to dinner or out to a movie once a week, and Teren and Ben would chat about typical "guy" things-some sports game that was on recently, the hot girl in the movie we’d just watched, or fishing, which apparently Ben was also into, although I didn’t think he caught them quite like Teren did. Tracey and I would giggle as we watched our two completely normal-well, seemingly normal anyway-boyfriends bond. I hoped she took longer than average to find Hot Ben’s flaws; hanging out as a foursome was very enjoyable.

Teren joined my family and I for our weekly dinners, which made my mom and Ashley joyously happy, as they kind of adored him. Especially Ashley, who usually sat beside him, chatting animatedly about school or a movie and even once about a cute boy she liked. Teren glanced up at me when she was talking about that boy and I had to clench my stomach. His face was sympathetic, like he understood what I meant about wanting to give her another life, one where she’d have a shot with the cute boy, but his weak smile and small sigh clearly told me that his answer was still no. He wouldn’t change her. I tried to accept that.

We avoided his parents’ place, but he often called them, and occasionally I was present for those phone calls. They were thrilled that we were back together and they were very sorry for pushing our relationship. They always asked us to come back to the ranch, so they could make up for their poor behavior. Teren always told them that now wasn’t the best time. A long pause on Teren’s end of the conversation indicated a lengthy response on his mother’s side. Sometimes he’d fire off a sentence or two in Russian, which always made me frown. I decided it was time for him to teach me, but he seemed reluctant to do so. He kept telling me, "It takes a long time to learn. Maybe next week, when I have more time to commit to it." That "next week" never came, though, and I had the sneaking suspicion that he liked being able to keep me in the dark when he chatted with his family.

Everything was going swimmingly with my otherworldly boyfriend, and I made myself ignore the fact that every day, we were edging closer to "the change." Every day Death’s ugly head loomed just a little nearer. I might have been forcing my mind not to think about it, but I still laid my head on his chest and listened whenever I could. I cherished every day that his heart was still beating.

On the one month anniversary of his "coming out" to me (which also happened to be the first time we slept together, although, I’m pretty sure that wasn’t what we were celebrating), he sent me calla lilies at work again. Clarice left them on my desk this time and frowned in disapproval. She still believed that Teren was trying to lure me away to be his private, personal assistant. I suppose I was his assistant, in a way, as I did occasionally pick up his dry cleaning, bring him Starbucks, and remind him of his monthly editor’s meeting. I just wasn’t getting paid for it.

When he did it again on the second month anniversary of his fanging me (I loved that phrase and said it often to Ashley, who was the only human woman in the world that I could talk about all of my boyfriend’s oddities with), Clarice finally started piecing together that maybe he wasn’t wooing me for a job…maybe he was just wooing me.

"Emma."

I slapped on a bright, fake smile. "Yes, Clarice?"

She pointed to my new arrangement of calla lilies, merrily perched on the very corner of my desk, bringing a little cheer to my square, gray world. "Those are from that Adams man again at Gate magazine."

I tried to not sigh or falter in my smile. "Yes. Yes they are."

She tried to purse her lips, but the tightness of her bun seemed to make that a physical impossibility and she gave up the attempt. "Are you dating him?"

I did let the sigh I had contained out of me. It came out in a happy, contented, lovesick sort of way that made even me a little nauseous. "Yes…we’re dating. We have been for a few months."

She nodded like she had secretly suspected that from the very beginning. The corners of my mouth turned up. "Well, I see. Are you going to go work for him?" she asked with an almost bored tone.

I blinked, not expecting that question. She still thought he wanted me to work there? "No…no, I think that would be weird…dating my boss." Not to mention a little inappropriate.

She shrugged, her shapeless blouse lifting a bit on her plump belly, revealing a basic black belt that I hadn’t even known she was wearing. For the briefest odd minute, I imagined that her underwear was the most utilitarian and un-frilly stuff that she could find-and I was sure it was "goes with everything" beige. I thought of the black, lacy number I was wearing under my tight skirt and thought we could not be more unlike each other. Her next comment, though, made me change my mind some.

"It wouldn’t be the first time. How do you think I got this job?" She winked and I blanched, and immediately stopped wondering about her underwear. I also forcefully pushed back the image of one day catching her and Mr. Peterson in flagrante on his oversized cherry desk. Ugh…some things a person just did not need to know.

"Oh…well, I’m not. I’m staying here." Where I’ll never be able to look Mr. Peterson in the eye again, thank you.

She nodded and a smile actually broke out on her lips. It faded instantly. "Well, good. I’d hate to lose you. You’re the only one around here that seems to know what they’re doing."

My pride soared. A compliment from Clarice was like finding a cable car without a photo-snapping tourist-it just never happened! I was pretty happy right then that Teren hadn’t nibbled on her for me. She knocked me down a peg after that with a "kind of" retort before she walked away. I shrugged off the backhandedness of the compliment and let my pride soar all afternoon. It wasn’t every day that you got to feel like you were actually good at something and your work was appreciated, maybe even more appreciated than the others. It made my day.

By five o’clock, I was practically glowing with positive energy. The world was my oyster and I was going to shuck it. Every cloud had a silver lining and every rainbow ended in a pot of gold, just for me. I was the Queen of this little land called San Francisco and all would bow before my brilliance and beauty. I sauntered into the parking lot, thinking I rocked this job, I rocked this outfit and I rocked my lacy, black under things.

It was at this very high point in my day, when the universe decided my ego had soared quite high enough and I needed to be brought down a smidge…or completely flattened. I tripped over an invisible boulder near the back of my car. That’s the only explanation-it was invisible. There was no way I simply stumbled and fell for no apparent reason. I managed to save my body from getting too banged up, but a piece of glass on the pavement sliced open my knee and it was bleeding to the point where I would almost call it gushing. I loudly cursed and looked around with heated cheeks, but thankfully, I was alone.

I brushed off my dirty, scraped hands and clamped one over my poor, oozing knee. With the other, I retrieved my purse; it had fallen close by, and an assortment of various belongings inside of it had tumbled out. I shoved my pink cell phone, red lipstick and a silver, metallic makeup kit, back in the bag and then dug around for my keys. All too typically, those had survived the tumble, and were still buried in the bottom of my purse-abyss. Finally finding them, I hobbled to the back of my car and opened up the bulbous trunk.

I let go of my knee to open the spare tire compartment, where I stored a first aid kit. Mom had insisted that I keep one handy, and right now I was heartily thanking her for her foresight. A rivulet of blood trickled down my leg as I opened the panel and brought out the blue kit with the international "help me" red plus sign. I found a wet towelette and opened it, along with an extra-large Band-Aid. I quickly wiped off my hands and gritting my teeth, wiped off my bloody leg and my bloody knee, making sure no stray glass was in the wound. When I was done, I slapped on the bandage. It was still bleeding, but I could get to Teren’s and inspect it further over there. I wanted to stop feeling like an idiot out in the parking lot, where a co-worker could come across me at any minute. Replacing the kit, I closed the trunk and lickety-split, hightailed it to Teren’s house.

I didn’t knock at his house anymore-I just quietly walked right in. I didn’t really want to explain my embarrassing fall, so I stealthily snuck in, hoping to at least rinse off in the hall bathroom before he heard me. But I wasn’t two steps into the room before he was standing right in front of me. As I slowly closed the door behind me, I watched him close his eyes, tilt his head to the side and draw in a deep inhale. A shudder passed through him and a second later, it passed through me. I was bleeding. The vampire in front of me clearly knew I was bleeding. As he exhaled and let his mouth fall open with a pleased noise, I felt like I had just been mentally devoured. His eyes opened as I set my purse down beside the door. They were slightly unfocused as he gazed at me.

"You’re hurt," he whispered.

I sighed and told my clumsy story to him. His gaze shifted to my knee, to the smidge of blood still visible on my shin and the red stain visible through the bandage, as the wound continued to bleed. I watched his mouth fall open again and his breath increase as he stared at my wound. Guilt flashed through me. This was something he obviously wanted and, here I was, just letting a plastic coated piece of gauze soak it all up.

"Teren." His eyes snapped back up to mine. "Do you want the blood?"

He blinked and his eyes refocused. "No." His voice was weak with no conviction behind it, like it was a conditioned answer, and not the one he really wanted to be giving me.

Feeling bad for denying him an opportunity that I never let him have-my blood-I reached down and pulled off the bandage. A fresh trickle of red warmth flowed like a tiny river down my shin and he groaned as he intently watched it. "It’s okay, Teren. I never let you bite me, but I’m already bleeding, so you may as well…"

Like he was in a trance, he walked up to me and sank to his knees. He ran his hands up the back of my calf and ravenously eyed the droplet. Watching his desire, I began to wonder just how much he downplayed wanting me, wanting my blood. His eyes darted to mine. "Are you sure?" he asked. His voice had a twinge of God, please don’t change your mind to it.

Was I making a mistake by giving him even a small taste? He seemed to want it so much…how in control was he? Seven seconds rang in my head for a moment before I dismissed it-he had already shown he wasn’t interested in taking a life, not even when I asked him to.