Savage Saints (Monsters of Saint Mark's)

We are taken to the largest table that seats twelve. Pell at one end, me at the other. Not very far apart—maybe fifteen feet—but it feels way too far away.

We sit, and drinks are poured while everyone else finds their seats.

Pell lifts up a golden goblet twinkling with jewels. He winks at me. Grins, too.

Man, I missed him. I don’t care what kind of stuff is in that other world. He is my new home.

I lift my goblet up too and we do a mock ‘cheers’. The other monsters join in, and goblets clink against each other. But my eyes are locked with Pell’s as we drink.

Pell is my home.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – TOMAS

My second driving experience starts out only marginally better than the first, but once again I thwart the ditch’s attempt at snaring me and my vehicle and arrive in town on time.

This pleases me to no end. In fact, I’m very proud of myself.

They said it would be hard.

Liars.

I have conquered the driving demons like a dragon warrior.

Which I am. So that makes sense.

The feed store is closed when I arrive, but Madeline is standing out in the parking lot. I pull in—nervously, I do admit. But not because I’m a terrible parker. I’ve just never been on a date before.

My palms are sweaty and my heart is beating curiously fast.

But I am a dragon. I might not look like one on the outside, but it’s what’s on the inside that counts. So I take a deep breath, get out of the truck, and meet Madeline in the middle of the parking lot with booming confidence.

“Hey,” she says, smiling at me in that way she does. “Aren’t you going to turn your truck off?”

She points to my truck. Which is still running. Oops. I hold up a finger, trot back over, snatch the keys out, and return to my waiting love.

All better.

Madeline giggles at me. “You’re getting the hang of it, I see.”

“I am. Learning to drive was not a formidable opponent.”

“What?” She giggles again. “You just learned to drive? How old are you, Tomas?”

Shit. I did not plan on probing questions. But I am nothing if not clever. So I deflect. “How old are you?”

She twirls a piece of her long, strawberry hair between her fingers and swivels her hips as she grins wildly. “How old do I look?”

Damn. She’s a good deflector as well. I put on my confident face. “Sixty-two.”

My lovely Madeline guffaws. “You’re fun, Tomas.”

“Thank you. I do my best.”

“Are you hungry?”

Finally. A question I can answer with certainty. “Famished.”

She grabs my hand and tugs. “Come on then. Let’s go eat at the diner. I skipped lunch today.” And then she starts telling me all about her day. Things I don’t really care about, or understand, but I’ve always been very good at pretending to be interested in people. Maybe I haven’t gotten out much in the past few thousand years, but I’ve practiced being social with a plethora of slave caretakers. Plus, Pell. He counts. And all the new monsters have been interesting.