Dangerous Levels of Trust: An Immortal Redemption Dinner Teaser
By: Selene Jeager
How many times had I been here now since the first? A handful? A dozen? Time today wasn't exactly a tangible entity as I made my way up the stairs in the St. John's Apartment Complex. The idea of something as unholy as a 'vampire' staying in a place titled to a biological reference still tickled my fancy on the irony charts.
Having to haul my weight up each step was still a bit of a task but it had gotten a huge ordeal easier, but there was still that light pull that resembled muscle fibers tearing under my weight as I moved. I knew full well though that unless the damaged tissue was worked into submission that it would never get any better, and if anything, the pull would only worsen over the course of the healing process as a whole. There was also no time to allow the easy way out of healing either due to the possibility of a mission always looming over her head like Damocles' Sword or the fact that allowing the easy way out of healing would cause a limp to become much more noticeable.
Reaching the top, I huffed a sigh as I wrapped on the door numbered 136. Moving to my leg to allow all of the weight to lie I waited a moment as the door was answered.
Vamp greeted me with his usual devious intentions gleaming through his pale blue hues as he scooped me up fluently leaving a slightly slammed door behind us. Cross-eyed and looking from the door to him as well as casting a puzzled expression, he moved deeper within his abode as he sat me down on a fine, black leather couch. His house, much like my own accommodations, stayed impeccably clean. I'd assumed that due to the level of tidiness this wasn't a simple 'let me get this shithole looking nice for my date' sort of ordeal from the get go. There was something about just how clean a person's house was that would tell any watchful observer if they normally kept it this polished, and his home had it. It was dusted and wiped from the roof down with furniture thoughtfully placed.
There were wine bottles placed on a rack and I had to wonder, from a distance, as he had taken a seat next to me, if they were ordered by age. There was much I knew of him on a combative level but even with the few visits here I still hadn't really taken much time into such trivial matters. Honestly, the first few times I'd been over I'd taken the liberty of taking a small carry on with me in a garter-style holster for some feeling of comfort.
Even though he knew I had it and we both knew that it wouldn't do much more than slow his inevitable destruction of me if he do damn chose I still chose to carry the small, but high-calibered tool every time I had visited the possible immortal…except this instance.
I still had no idea if I'd simply wanted to extend further trust or if I just didn't give a shit anymore but still I knew, regardless, it was dangerous just to be here…and to be this involved.
"I made what we had the first night you decided to grace my home since you enjoyed it so much."
With the ice broken my mind tolled away from such trivialities as how he had stacked his wine collection and onto the smells that arose from his kitchen.
"And it still smells delicious too. I still would have never figured you to be the type to find interest in cooking; I just want you to know that."
"Oh I know, are you always planning on giving me such grief over it? I would think that you'd simply 'kiss the cook' and enjoy it all..." he waggled his dark sculpted eyebrows at me.
"Oh but I do, all but for the 'not giving you grief' part. Nobody in my blood family could ever cook worth a shit but me," I muttered scooting in for a small graze to the lips that he gladly accepted.
Smiling again I scooted back rubbing his well-angled jaw line partaking in the new scruff that had taken over his face. Admittingly, this new style he was sporting was a change from the last time. The goatee always had a place in my heart but this wild beard he was currently growing made him look damn fine. As I ran my hands over it a moment, mesmerized, he cupped it as the chill of his fingers settled in.
"Do you like it?"
"Like it would be an understatement; you can definitely pull off a beard any day of the week. You look…" my eyes wandered to the fine fissures of the leather beneath us.
"Do tell…" he leaned in grabbing hold of my chin as he leveled my eyes with his; a blush was very apparent as I wished for my bangs to roll into my line of view to offer a shield between us.
After a few moments his eyes managed to force the information they had sought out of me begrudgingly, "You look super sexy in your beard," I swallowed hard face redder than ever. How this man managed to turn me into a fucking giggling school girl still made me want to stab him repeatedly…even if he would probably enjoy it too much.
"Really now well maybe I'll keep it this way for a little while then for you."
Scooting back a hair to clear my mind and get my thoughts back around me I crossed my arms frowning, "I hate how you do that crap to me…"
"Whaaaattt…" he pandered on most innocently.
"You know what!" I half-way wanted to scream and yank my hair out.
"That you're hungry?" the corner of his lips tugged up innocently as he moved to his feet and into the kitchen quietly to escaped the blast radius and thrown couch pillows.
In the midst of the rage, internally I threw up my hands and laughed. I'd murder him after he fed me if I still remembered to.
Making my way to the kitchen he was already pulling the dinner from the oven. The table was already set with whatever vintage of wine he'd picked out of his private stock and the silverware placed appropriately. Taking my usual seat, I watched as he lavished the plates with generous portions of rack of lamb spiced to his mother's old recipe specifications that had been accompanied with halved russet potatoes and a salad served with Balsamic Vinaigrette. I had to fully admit the man knew how to cook some food as mischievous thoughts of him running around the kitchen in JUST an apron loitered about.
My scattered thoughts quickly disappeared as I heard the deep pan he'd used set back in his stove. With his return he began to pour the deep red wine he'd chosen to attend with our meal before sitting to join me. Taking one of his dining napkins I sat it in my lap over the black dress I'd chosen to wear. Finally, after a few more 'dates', I felt comfortable enough to wear a dress around him.
Lifting a fork and a knife he followed in suit and we dug into the lamb which had quickly become a favorite of mine over the last several weeks. Whenever Trent had made something I didn't really care for, instead of going to bed hungry or grabbing a sandwich I just snuck out the window and went across town to Vamp's place and he would usually make me something more tasty than lunch meat on bread.
The lamb was as delicious as the first time I'd torn into it and with his excellent choice in spirits and seasonings the meal seemed to melt together and become one while still each of its unique flavors. The choices in sides and wine had definitely been well thought out since the first time he'd made it for me.
"This lamb is still to kill for," she muttered aloud.
"Well I'm still happy after having it this often that you enjoy it that much."
Stabbing one of the potatoes I raised the fork and bit into it; at this point I think he had this meal down to an art. The potatoes were tender but they were not falling to pieces giving them resilience and the salad was a great way to add some color to the meal but still the meal retained its earthy appeal with the dressing he had chosen. By the time I had made my way through the second lamb chop on that he'd given me off the rack I was stuffed. Only a few bites here and there colored my plate and of course he would send both Trent and I some of it when I'd depart later but right now my full belly had me content.
Leaning back in the chair I was in I heaved a sigh as he, too, leaned back full and stuff to the point of stupor. Allowing my legs to extend their full length in the heels I bumped up against his steel toed boots underneath. Following in suit he retaliated in the half-hearted game of footsies I'd started for a few moments before asking if I wanted desert.
"Maybe, what did you make?" a brow rose in quandary.
"Well I went out of my way to make strawberry short cake tonight actually, interested?" he gestured to the cake platter with its heavy glass lid. On it sat a beautifully crafted fat girl delicacy that called to me to eat it and it was here that internal conflict arose. It looked heavenly but I needed a big ol' slice of it like I needed another gash in the leg. I debated on it a long second before finally surrendering but on terms, "Alright, I'll take some of it…but…only if you let me do the dishes this time."
A frown instantly graced his face. He had been particularly weary of me doing the dishes or anything else for that mattered that involved me standing too long on my bad leg for extended periods of time. I'm not sure if it was guilt or the fact that he felt a guest shouldn't be attending to a mess in his house but he had aptly been against it. Standing, he instantly moved to his own feet as though to flank me away from the sink just steps away but quickly I remedied this problem, "No dishes no cake," I told him coolly.
For once he sighed, moving out of the way as he went, instead, towards the cake on its covered platter.
It was a silent defeat but I was honestly shocked at it. Usually it was him leading this little waltz of fun and games but now I'd gotten my shot at getting my way for once. Smirking quietly to myself I gloated internally at my victory as I began to hobble my way through his dining area picking up the few dishes that were dirtied as a result of dinner.
Moving to the sink it was all pretty easy, even on my leg, and it was done fairly quick and as I turned from the sink I stared at the biggest slab of cake I'd ever seen before finding him sitting in his chair across from me hunched over the table. He had his head propped up in his hands and gave me the biggest grin I'd ever seen cross his face.
"You've gotta be shitting me…" I hobbled back to the table, "I hope you're not expecting me to eat all of that!" I stared in disbelief.
"Oh but I do…"
"And if I don't," I glowered slightly.
"There will be consequences."
"This is horse shit…the hell are you going to do to me," I took my seat again.
"You will see, now won't you?"
Slowly taking a clean fork that had accompanied it she reluctantly tilted her fork and sliced though the soft pound cake past all of its whipped cream and strawberry allure before hefting the thick cake to her mouth and eating it. It was good, mind you, it's just she knew this was not going to end well, and sure enough, half way through the cake she felt like her stomach was going to explode. Her head throbbed with all of the sugar and calories circulating though her system and she felt just about miserable, but at least she'd tried.
Setting down the fork and wiping her mouth off with the napkin from her lap from earlier she threw it on top of the cake to declaratively 'throw in the towel' as she half-heartedly slumped back in the chair rubbing a hand over her bulging stomach. She felt like she weighed a good fifteen pounds heavier and of course with her having to limp all over the place for quite a while and her host's good food it was an extreme possibility.
Vamp had not moved so much as an inch from his position as he had watched her all the while with utter bemusement spread across his mischievous little face.
"Are you finished?" he asked coyly.
Shoving the plate to the side so that there was nothing between us I nodded silently.
"Good," he chuckled evilly as he picked up the plate and moved it to the sink to be washed later.
"So…what are you going to do to me?"
"You'll see, now won't you?"
"Now what's that…" I paused in my place seeing his face inches from mine.
Watching him move in closer to me as I inched back slightly he dug his teeth into my neck tearing it open as warm blood spilled out of it and onto the floor and the two of us. Struggling to get away, like he much enjoyed, the chair smashed into the cabinet next to us with a thud as he took me to the floor latching down onto my throat.
"What and the…fuck?" I gurgled under the pressure being applied to my voice box as he pulled away.
"This is your 'punishment'. Besides, the whole cake was meant just for you, I had never intended to eat any of it. I have different tastes when it comes to 'dessert'," he chuckled lowly.
"Smart ass…" I managed to croak out as blood spilled down the front of me and had splattered across my dress, "you'd better lay off of drinking from me for a while after this one…your making more of a mess than eating this time," I grumbled onwards as he released my throat and relaxed a bit more as his lips returned to my neck.
By now, after I had gotten enough sense made of my surroundings, I found us pulled over in the corner of his kitchen against his cabinets that he would obviously have to clean up later. Unevenly I exhaled into his neck as he returned to nursing the wound he'd inflicted. Honestly, I didn't mind being covered in blood or even the violence. It was more or less being scared half the death when he decided he was fucking hungry for something other than food that annoyed the piss out of me.
Of course, looking at things from his perspective, maybe he just liked that rush and adrenaline and fear.