Page 43 of Fangs with Benefits

I blink, speechless for a moment.

‘You’re fucking with me.’

Elijah laughs, a surprised sound that makes me smile despite my incredulity. He licks his lips before opening his mouth, tilting his head back as he bares his teeth to me. For the most part, they look normal, blunt and white, an exceptionally nice smile. I might even guess he’s had braces. They look human.

But then, his sharp canines descend, and the two incisors from the bottom grow, making for four sharp teeth jutting towards each other. I blink and step closer, fascinated as much as my heart picks up speed at the sight. It’s like my body knows he’s inhuman, a predator, with four sharp teeth that are made to destroy me–yet my interest is unending.

Curiosity wins over fear, and I stand close enough to see that the teeth look unbelievably sharp. And it’s not just those two–the molars behind his canines above and below are sharp too, making for eight sharp points to tear into flesh.

‘Incredible,’ I mutter, and Elijah closes his mouth, his lips looking crowded as they stretch around the teeth.

‘A moment, if you will,’ he says, stepping away from me and turning to face the edge of the building.

I wait, my brain supplying question after question, even as the surreal truth sinks in. My hot, inept coworker is a literal vampire.

But four hundred years old?

I suppose that could explain why he’s bad with technology, but really, if he was around for all of technology’s advent, then shouldn’t he be ultra adept? Or at least have a passable proficiency? You would think in four centuries, one might learn to pick things up quickly.

And if he is a vampire, a real and true vampire, then he must use those sharp teeth for—

‘I can hear your heart beating,’ Elijah says over his shoulder. ‘You’re afraid.’

I step forward tentatively until I reach Elijah’s side. I put my hands on the cold stone railing and look out at the city below.

‘I’ve never met a vampire before,’ I say by way of explanation.

‘None that you know of.’ His teeth look normal again, not protruding dangerously from his gums.

‘That’s true.’

High school me would be ecstatic to learn that vampires, the entirety of my adolescent daydreams and fictional infatuations, are indeed real. How many other vampires are there in the world? Hundreds? Thousands? Tens of thousands?

Too many and they’d have a food shortage.

‘I am a little afraid,’ I admit. ‘Do you kill people?’

‘No,’ he says, squinting into the distance.

‘Have you?’

‘Have you, Molly?’ he asks. I raise an eyebrow and he clicks his tongue in acquiescence. It takes another quiet moment, but I watch his Adam’s apple dip, and then he nods. ‘Not for a long time.’

‘How long?’ I ask, though it feels insensitive. I’m prying, but this doesn’t even touch all the intrusive digging I’m holding back–I want to know everything, and I mean every detail. I basically want him to write me an encyclopaedia of all things vampire and quiz him for hours, Fact or Fiction style. I want to set up a recorder and notate the story like in Interview With the Vampire.

‘’Bout a hundred years.’

I would love to ask what the hell he was up to in 1926, but I don’t–I just nod and try not to look like I’m judging him. Delicate balance.

‘Tell me what you’re thinking,’ he says, a desperate whisper.

‘I don’t want you to kill me,’ I say simply. ‘For figuring out your secret.’

‘I very much don’t want to kill you, either,’ he says, and I believe him. ‘I wouldn’t–I won’t.’

Our eyes meet, nothing guarded about his expression nor mine, just a bombshell of a discovery and honest sentiments between us.

‘Are you going to make me forget?’ I ask, another piece of common vampiric lore coming to mind. ‘Can you do that? Make people forget things, or do things for you? That’s how you got this job, right?’