Eternal: More Love Stories With Bite (22 page)

She shrugged and fiddled
with the
zippers on her jacket, looking coy as she shot him a look
from
beneath
full,
probably natural lashes. "After the last great war,
I
lost track of you, and the rest of our family," she said. "Those I found were—not healthy. I managed to avoid contracting the disease, but
I
didn't dare take the risk, so
I
stayed away."

"Where?"

"Oh, you
know. Here
and there. Europe. Australia was quite nice; I migrated here when they were still traveling by ocean liner. Since then, I've been drifting. I was recently in Los Angeles, where I ran into Bobby Sansome—you remember him?—and
he
told me almost everyone who was anyone was here, in Morganville. He also said that he'd come here to get
the
cure.
I
thought perhaps
it
was safe."

"It's safe," Oliver said. "But you'll need to present yourself to the Founder. There are rules of behavior in this town, accords you'll have to sign in order to stay. Understand?"

"Of course." Her charming smile got even wider. "Oliver, my sweet, do you really doubt that
I
know the
rules
of hospitality and good behavior? I haven't survived this
long
by preying indiscriminately on the livestock . . .
oh."
Her sparkling eyes flicked to me, inviting me to share the joke. "Not including you, naturally. I meant no offense."

"No?" I raised my eyebrows to let her know the sweet face
didn't
impress me. "That 'tude will get you in trouble around here."

Gloriana gave me an honestly puzzled look, then turned to Oliver. "What does she mean?"

"She means that humans have status here." He didn't look particularly happy about it, but then, that's Oliver for you. "You can't expect civility from them. And, unfortunately, you can't punish them for failing to
provide
it."

I snorted. "Bite me, fanger."

"See?"

Gloriana looked honestly taken aback for a few seconds and then smiled in what I could only call utter delight. Despite my best intentions, I got a traitorous little impulse to grin back. "Really? But this is
wonderful
!"

"It is?" It was Oliver's turn to look bemused, as if she'd suddenly started rattling on in a language he didn't recognize.

"Of course! You know I've never been terribly conventional, cuz. I'd be delighted to converse with humans again on an equal basis. Most of them are terribly dull, of course, but this one looks bright enough." Her green eyes swept over me, giving me the female X-ray
of
appraisal. "And certainly not afraid of controversy."

"This one
is named Eve," I said. "And don't check my teeth like I'm your livestock. I bite back."

Gloriana laughed, an honest, full laugh, and I felt a shudder go through Oliver's body next to me. I
couldn't tell what had brought
that
on
—not fear, surely, the old dude didn't fear anybody that I could tell. "Eve," she said. "I'd like something to drink. Something hot and salty, perhaps in an O negative if you have it."

Ugh, but okay, I served vamps from time to time. I summoned up the professional smile again. "Sure thing. Coming right up."

It was only as I was warming up the blood out of the refrigerator that it occurred to me that she'd named my own blood type.

Hmmmm.

Coincidence. Probably.

* * * *

Gloriana's visit to the coffee shop was eye-opening, to say the least. I put her blood in an opaque coffee cup, with a
lid,
and she and Oliver went to sit down together, presumably to jaw about old times, and I do mean
old
times. She wasn't standoffish, the way some of the other vampires were—she said hello to people as they passed, gave them the same sweet smile, shook hands with a few.

I was pulling espresso shots for a mocha when my boyfriend came in the vampire entrance and got in the ordering
line. I
waved, and he winked at me. Michael is a total hottie, always has been; tall, blond, built, and shy, for the most part. He's always been more focused on music than the people around him, and from what he'd told me about how he'd come to get dead, that had been a real mistake. So he was trying to do a little better about connecting with people, as well as guitar riffs. He's always been my friend, but these days, he's a whole lot more than that.

I don't want to be sick about it, but I love him with my life. It scares me down to the bones to think about losing him—although in Morganville it's a lot more likely that
he'll
lose me, given the mortality rates among humans here.

Still.

I rushed through the next three orders to get to Michael and then took my time, leaning over the counter and smiling as our eyes met. "Hi, handsome," I purred. "See something you like?"

"Always," he said, and gave me just a flicker of that devastating Michael Glass grin. "And the coffee looks good, too."

"You are suave. I've always said so."

"And you're strange. But I love strange."

"Mmmm. Want to go take inventory with me in the back?"

"Isn't the boss here?" Michael made a show of looking around for Oliver.

He found him. He also spotted Gloriana, who was leaning her chin on her tiny little hand, looking at Oliver with luminous, big eyes.

"Wow," he said. This was not the thing you want to hear out of a boyfriend, believe me. "Who's the new girl?"

"Gloriana," I said. "She's not new. She's ancient." I was hoping that would put an end to it; Michael wasn't interested in hanging around other vampires, although he did it when circumstances required; he liked me, and Shane, and Claire. He liked us a whole lot better than the nonbreathers.

Until now, apparently. I could almost see the word balloon floating over his head:
should go say hello.
But he was smart enough not to say it. With an effort, he dragged his attention away from Gloriana and looked
at
me again. "So, you
have
plans for lunch today?"

"Nope. I was thinking about a smoothie." In this coffee bar,
you
had to be sure
you
were
grabbing
the
pureed
strawberries, and not,
you
know,
something
else, but the smoothies were pretty awesome.
"I could be
talked into something non-food-related, though."

"Shane's
at
work," Michael
said.
"Claire's at school. House
is
empty. I
could
make you something hot."

He said it straight-faced; that was the wonderful, wicked thing about Michael, he could deliver the most outrageous lines with utmost sincerity. It left me wondering if I was the only one with my mind in the gutter . . . until I spotted the amusement in his clear blue eyes.

"I'll bet," I breathed. "Meet you there at one o'clock, okay?"

"Not twelve?"

"I came in late."

"Ah. I'll keep myself occupied."

"Hey!"

He gave me the full, devastating smile and leaned across the counter to kiss me. His lips were cool and sweet and softer than they had any right to be, but he was gone before
I
could
really
savor
it.

He'd
left four
fifty on
the counter—his way of
saying
that I
should have
a
drink myself. Which I did, making
it
extra sweet and extra
strong,
like him.

It was only as I was sipping the drink that I realized Gloriana was staring at the door through which Michael had gone. She finally leaned over and pecked Oliver on both cheeks in a European sort of farewell and took her cup of O to go . . . following Michael.

I didn't like that.

At all.

* * * *

One o'clock crawled slowly toward me, to the
point
where
I
checked the coffee shop's clock against my cell phone
and
my watch, just to
be
sure. When the hand finally dragged itself to twelve forty-five, I stripped off my apron and chirped to Oliver, "Lunch!"

"Don't you have time to make up?" he asked, not looking away from the cash he was counting for the bank bag.

"Yeah, I'll stay late."

"I'd rather you worked through lunch."

"Sorry, slavery's gone out of fashion," I said, and hung up my apron on the old coat tree at the end of the counter. "Gotta run."

He grunted and waved his hand. I retrieved my purse from the locker and dashed out.

It wasn't a long walk home, but it was unexpectedly
chilly;
rain clouds were rolling in, dark and ominous, and the wind had kicked
up.
It blew sand and broken bits
of
grass across the roads, rippled the leaves on the trees, and generally made walking less fun
than
usual. I
was
happy
to
turn
down Lot Street and see my big,
shiny
black hearse parked at the curb. Death's party bus. Holla.