Still, the stink coming off that stranger seemed wrong. Someone that attractive should have a regular bathing schedule.
I glanced at Ben, whose nose was wrinkled with distaste. Could he smell it, too?
Jane eyed us both carefully, looking confused when I sank against the couch and pressed my hand over my nose.
The newcomer walked closer to me. "You must be Meagan!" she cried, smiling cautiously. "So nice to meet you! I'm Jolene Lavelle."
"Hi," I said, waving awkwardly, not moving to shake her offered hand. Because her hygiene was in question, honestly.
Jolene looked to Jane, who shrugged. Jolene looked back over her shoulder. "Zeb, you comin' in?"
A man with sandy-blond hair and bright blue eyes poked his head through the doorway. "Hi!"
Miranda glanced between me and the door. "Oh . . . no."
It was immediately clear that Zeb wasn't a vampire, either. He was tan and vital and healthy-looking. I could hear his slightly elevated pulse from the couch. But unlike his wife, he did not smell like wet dog. He smelled delicious, like fresh-baked apple pie and pumpkin spice lattes. I could practically see the blood throbbing through his delicate veins, under his skin, rich and warm and ripe.
My mouth watered. I could feel actual saliva seeping at the corner of my mouth, which was, frankly, gross. And my fangs dropped with a snick. Every muscle in my body was commanding me to jump forward, launch myself from the couch, bank off the wall, and tackle him. I could practically feel the skin of his throat give way under my fangs, flooding my mouth with hot red blood. But I gritted my teeth, stiffening and locking down my legs so they couldn't propel me forward.
Ben was tensed on his chair, fingers gripping the armrests like they were lifelines. I reached over and wrapped my fingers around his wrist, his very, very tight wrist. It relaxed ever so slightly, but he didn't move.
Zeb frowned at us. "Huh, well, that was anticlimactic. I was promised lunging, maybe even a minor flesh wound. It's gotten kind of boring ever since everybody settled down and got seminormal. No one's kidnapped me or hypnotized me or threatened to murder me in years. Between that and the kids starting school, I feel old."
Jolene put her arm around Zeb's shoulders. "Welcome to middle age, sweetie."
"Your breath smells really nice, by the way," Zeb told me.
"Good job, you two!" Jane said, rushing forward to pull Ben and me up from the couch, though I noticed that she stayed between us and Zeb. In yanking us to our feet, she knocked aside my grip on Ben's arm. "I'm so proud!"
"What the hell, Jane?" I yelled.
"Zeb's my best friend." Jane said. "Has been since we were kids, and he's one of the few humans left in our little circle of friends since Miranda was turned. I invited him over here to see how tight you've locked down your bloodthirst. The good news is, it's pretty darn tight."
"This was a test?" I yelped. "That's freaking sick!"
"We've only been vampires for two weeks!" Ben cried.
"What? Zeb knows the risks, and there's a whole room full of vampires here to protect him. Who better to test your control? And you did great!"
I frowned. "I still don't like it."
Jane shrugged. "Well, that's fine, kids, but as your almost-sire, I reserve the right to test you as I see fit. And I did, and you were awesome, so accept it and say thank you for my vote of confidence."
"I think that the ‘thank you' part would be easier if you didn't call us kids," Ben told her.
"You're under twenty, and just this evening I found you watching Thundercats in my living room," Jane pointed out. "In your pajama pants."
Ben frowned. "She's got me there."
"Still doesn't explain why I get lumped together with the ‘kid,' " I grumbled. "So what does performing well on your creepy little test mean? Do we get a special treat? An outing to vampire Chuck E. Cheese's? Access to telecommunications?"
"An internship!" Jane exclaimed, with a big cheesy grin on her face. I swear, she actually did jazz hands and everything.
"That seems more like a punishment," I said.
"Speaking as someone who has done two unpaid internships, I agree," Ben told her. "Is this about my browser history again?"
I gave Ben an extreme side-eye.
"It's not a punishment," Jane insisted. "It's just that with all of the remedial vampire training and the number of hours one of you spends watching Thundercats, it occurs to me that maybe you don't have enough to keep you occupied."
"Really?" Dick asked.
"It turns out that when you read and type at lightning speed and you don't have to sit in on lectures, college classwork doesn't take all night," I said. "Which you should blame on the increasingly lax standards of the American postsecondary educational system. Not on us."