Page 29 of Angels Don’t Date

“Drink?”

“Blood. I’m a vampire.”

“You mean Mitt?”

I wrinkled my nose at him and opened the fridge. I grabbed the first blood bag I saw and then straightened, closed the door and punctured the bag with my teeth. I sucked blood while he stared at me, kind of intent, like he’d never seen a vampire suck a blood bag before.

I pulled out my fangs and elbowed him. “You’re staring.”

“You were staring at me baking.”

“Because you’re actually a competent baker and everyone else sucked so bad.”

He elbowed me back. “And now it’s you sucking. You don’t drink live people? Wouldn’t you prefer to have your blood in a pretty glass?”

“Nope. I don’t like the smell. Angel blood, sure, and a few other flavors, but overall, the taste and scent of blood is not great. It’s like raw meat.”

He blinked at me. “You don’t like the taste of blood? And you call yourself a vampire.”

“A sun-born vampire. I know, it’s weird, but at least I can go in the sun. I love the sun! It makes up for how much I don’t love blood.”

“But you have to drink it?”

“Or I get dizzy and anemic. Also it’s easier to channel my vampire speed and strength if I’ve been drinking enough blood. I went through a period where I refused to drink blood. The Scholar calls it my vegan period. Do all teenagers really go through that? That’s what he said.”

He shook his head. “No. Some of us never mind killing innocent animals for our own health and happiness.”

I squinted at him. “But did you go through a vegan stage?”

“Vegetarian, but don’t tell anyone.”

I laughed and then finished my blood bag while he kept staring at me like it was really interesting. It wasn’t, but it made me feel special. Whatever.

After that, I went to my bedroom to get dressed in something that would twirl beautifully while we were dueling. It was also pink and purple pale stripes. So pretty. My purple shoes had a large rosette on each toe. I was saving it for a picnic, but this would be better.

When I came out, Richard took my photo then nodded and sent it to me. “It’s perfectly pastel princess. I’m still wearing Banus’s pants and Mitt’s shirt. I flew home for my pan last night, but I forgot to get clothes.” He shrugged while I looked down at his legs.

“Those are business slacks. The Scholar likes to wear pants like that when he doesn’t want people to think about how many ways he can kill them.”

“That’s exactly what my wardrobe needs.” He showed me the perfectly polished foils. Apparently he’d polished while I got pretty. “Do you want to do photos? I could ask Hallie or you could ask Mitt.”

I shook my head. “Dueling isn’t really my brand.”

“Same. I’m more killing than dueling, but for you, I’ll try to make an exception. If I do accidentally kill you, I am very sorry.”

I snorted. “That would be hilarious. And then I’d rise a vampire and suck all your blood so that you could also rise a vampire. Then we could continue the duel on equal footing.”

He nudged me, eyes twinkling. “I love the way you plan through all exigencies.”

For some reason that word, ‘love,’ floated in the air and caught on the edges of my heart. He wouldn’t mind me falling desperately in love with him, he just wouldn’t ever reciprocate. That was one way to assure a broken heart that never healed.

We started the duel in the clearing on the edge of a pond. There was a lovely boat floating along the bank. I should have suggested rowing instead of dueling. Maybe later.

I took a starting pose, raised my foil at Richard, who frowned, like he was puzzled until he finally copied my pose. I slashed my blade, and he nodded and slashed his, like he was remembering how this was supposed to go.

Then I leapt forward with a thrust that would have gone through his heart if he hadn’t blocked, spinning and knocking my blade back. I was on him again in the next instant, not as fast as I could be, but fast enough to push him.

His eyes narrowed as he focused, finally taking the game seriously.