“It’s part of my job to dig up dirt on people. Find out where she’s staying, see who else she’s talking to.”
“Supernatural dirt, even?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
“Ginny, you don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. I want to help.”
“But—” I sighed, took another breath, and tried again. “This isn’t your problem. I don’t want you to get in trouble. Or get hurt.”
“Yeah? Really? That’s sweet.”
“Well. I like you.”
“And not just because I’m O positive?”
“Are you? I didn’t know that. We can’t tell that, you know. It’s got more to do with, well. Hormones. It tastes different if you’re happy, stressed out, excited. You know.” It was only because I’d eaten tonight that I was able to blush.
“Huh,” she said thoughtfully.
Panic mode. I’d scared her off. Freaked her out by bringing up blood. Oh wait, she was the one who brought up blood. “I mean, I like you for more than your blood.” Wait, back up. “I mean, I haven’t even seen your blood.”
“Do you want to?” Her tone was very neutral. I couldn’t tell if she was offering or offended.
“No,” I said, after another deep breath. I was having trouble keeping enough air in my lungs to talk. Funny, before becoming a vampire I never realized how important breathing was to talking. “I don’t want to hurt you. I like you because I… like you.” This was really hard. Why was this so hard? I was supposed to have supernatural powers.
“Well. I like you to. Whether or not you’re a vampire.”
That was sufficiently… vague. I decided not to push. I could have talked a lot more. I really wanted to ask her how she really truly felt about the vampire thing—was she one of Jack’s groupies or was this an “in spite of” situation? But I needed to let it go. Just for now.
This was really hard.
“Um. I think my game just kicked me out,” I said.
“Yup, that’s what my screen’s showing.”
“You want to start over?”
It was nice, how easily we slipped back into that comfortable space. I sat back and enjoyed it. We played until well past midnight, when she had to bow out. She had to get up for work tomorrow and needed sleep. She was very sweet about it.
I had all the rest of the hours until dawn to sit up, alone.
JACK FINALLY CAME back from his meeting with Carter.
“Well?” I asked, setting aside my laptop. I’d been writing a new article.
He stopped, thought a second, and said, “Sam—you ever think there’s more to this? That we’re not… that we shouldn’t bury ourselves in a hole in the ground like this. You ever think about fifty years from now and wonder if we’re just going to be doing the same damn thing, ordering pizza and killing time?”
“Killing time. Isn’t that what you said about Ginny?”
“Who? Oh—wow, you really like her. You haven’t stopped talking about her.”
I didn’t say anything. He’d basically said it all. Any life I might have had before becoming a vampire wasn’t worth thinking about. It’s entirely possible I’d have spent the last fifteen years playing games and writing articles and wouldn’t be living any different. Then again, maybe not. I did wonder sometimes what my kids would have looked like. But there was no guarantee I’d ever have had any. I couldn’t say I’d lost something that might never have existed—and that was the whole future, right there.
He came around the sofa and made to slouch down; I scooted over to give him room. “Carter asked all kinds of questions like if I’m happy or not and if being a vampire was everything I thought it would be—”
“Had you even thought about being a vampire before actually being one?”