“Thank you,” I spoke quietly. And meant it. “Sit with me?” I asked.
He pulled the last steaming waffle from the iron and brought it to me smoothly. “Of course,” he said, pulling out the maple syrup and butter before sitting. Still naked.
“So, give me the SparkNotes version of how to date a vampire.”
He grunted. “Just don’t run for the hills.”
“So, is otherworldly stamina part of your vampire repertoire of tricks?” I asked after swallowing a bite of blueberry-studded heaven.
William laughed, and I smiled at the sound. Otherworldly indeed—how did I ever question it? He could never pass for an ordinary human.
“Yes, Mistress, and I’m going to have to compliment you for keeping up with me. Clearly you go to the gym, or run marathons or something,” he said with a grin.
“Oh sure. I’ve run triathlons, climbed Everest in my skivvies, and am able to fuck vampires for hours on end. That’s how I roll.”
“Maybe we could do a mountain-climbing scene, if that’s how you’ll be dressed. I’m sure all the ropes associated with hiking gear would certainly be advantageous.”
“So, how is it you’re able to come to my house during the day? Sunlight and all?”
He scratched his neck. “It doesn’t kill us—we’re allergic to it.”
“Allergic?”
He pointed to where he had scratched. “If we’re in the sun too long, it gives us a rash. It’s like eczema.”
I buried my face in my hands. “That’s the nerdiest thing I have ever heard.”
He shrugged. “It’s not very cool, but it’s better than being lit on fire every time I leave the house. In fact, pretty much ninety-nine percent of vampire myths aren’t true. We’re just very durable blood drinkers, not magical bat-people, although we do have enhanced sensory abilities.”
“What’s going to happen when I have my . . . visitor?” I asked, cringing.
He paused. “You have regular houseguests?”
“My period.”
William laughed. “Let’s just say it’s a good thing you only get it four times a year.”
“Seasonique, the preferred birth control choice of vampires and their lovers.”
He covered his face with his hands and stifled a laugh. “Any more questions?”
“Is Harvey a vampire? Is that how he makes such wonderful clothes—he just taps into his vampire skill set?”
William shook his head. “No, he’s a human. My niece and her husband are vampires, but we have human friends,” he explained.
“Does Harvey know you’re a vampire?”
“Yes—in fact, the nature of our relationship revolves around it,” William said, slightly cowed. “He donates blood to us in hopes we’ll change him at some point.”
Shit was starting to get real.
“Um, how does that work?”
He waved his hands. “I really don’t want to scare you anymore. Please understand, young American vampires are very progressive in their beliefs. We don’t want to live in a world where we’re predators—we want symbiosis. I’ll tell you about our lifestyle in time. Just know that Harvey is a great guy, a killer designer, and helps keep me alive.”