Four, p.30
Four, page 30
“Love?” Georgia laughed. “It’s not really like that. He’s fun and he’s sweet, but we’re still just, well, not that.”
Geoffrey started gnawing on his lip again. Georgia chose to tuck him back in his room and get the TV going. The vampire did manage to get lost in his soap opera enough for Georgia to start puttering away at laundry and dusting. Just as she finished the last pair of silk pajamas, her phone vibrated in her pocket.
“Hey, you still awake?” Steve asked on the other end.
“Obviously,” she laughed.
“You got time for me?”
She smiled. “Sure, what’s up?”
“Look out back.”
She nearly dropped her phone as one glance out the window revealed the young vampire perched on her fence. He waved before hopping over the raised bed and sauntering to her back door.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked.
“Well, you said you wouldn’t stay, so I decided to drop by,” he said, leaning ever so suavely on the doorjamb.
“You know, this is dangerously close to stalker territory, Mr. DeMarco,” Georgia warned. “Remember that talk we had about the distinct difference between interesting and creepy?”
He tipped up her chin and kissed her on the lips as sweetly as an undead stalker possibly could. He gave a little bow and took a few steps back to say, “I am sorry. You know, sneaking over seemed far more romantic when I first conceived the plan, but, yeah, creepy.”
“At least you don’t watch me when I sleep and stare all bug-eyed when you think I’m not looking or any of those other stereotypical broody vampire things,” she said.
“You really ditched me to clean?” he asked as he sniffed the traces of laundry detergent on her fingers.
She kissed him back. “I ditched you to keep my boss from getting too much more jealous and upset. He’s a creature of habit, and he’s just gotten a little more comfortable with going out and being seen. It’s a lot for someone like him to share his toys with anyone else.”
“Well, sometimes he needs to suck up and deal with things a little more,” Steve said. “He’s my friend, but—”
“You know, for guys who are supposed to be friends, you use a lot of conditionals,” Georgia said.
“Gingersnaps is my friend, but that won’t stop me from seeing you,” Steve warned.
“Um, really, you’re going back into the creepy possessive zone. You and Geoff being friends is completely independent of anything we have, OK? There is no kinky undead love triangle going on at all. We clear?”
Steven nodded. “What can I say? You are the only person who knows me this way. I don’t want you to see me like humans see the rest of my family. I don’t want you to fear me,” he said softly. “It would break my heart if you ever—”
She wrapped her arms around him, gave him a solid hug, and buried her head against him. “Stop worrying so much, Steve. I know you’re different.”
He squeezed her tight. “It’s just, Georgia, I’ve had this whole stigma of being a Jaeger all my—”
“You became a vampire to save other people. You may be a Jaeger, but—”
“To save people,” he choked out as he buried his face in her soft golden hair. “I wanted to save them, so much. You have no idea what it’s like when you’re backed in a corner. People do the most terrible things when they have their backs against the wall, Georgia.”
She squeezed him tighter. “People also do the most wonderful things when they have their backs against the wall. You’re proof of that, silly thing. Come on, kiss me good morning and get out of here before the sun comes up.”
He leaned down and stared right into her eyes. In the late moonlight, his face positively glowed. “You are amazing,” he whispered before kissing her.
She did stumble slightly as he let her go. He smiled at her as she tried to recover and give him a more come-hither look rather than look like a lovesick schoolgirl. For a moment he paused as if to say one more thing, but he ended up just shaking his head.
“I have a big surprise for you and Geoffrey both. I’ll send Ren around tomorrow with the details.”
“What sort of trouble are you causing now?” she asked.
“Just wait for Ren tomorrow,” he said before blowing her one more kiss. He hopped back on the fence and gave her a little salute. “Oh, you do have a passport, don’t you?”
“What?” she asked, but the vampire was already long gone . . .
“Ahh, you are getting to zee best part of the story—zee part where you meet me,” Minerva chimed in.
“I thought we covered your intro already, Miss Hoover?” Georgia asked.
Minerva chose to focus her attention on the enraptured Gail and waved her hand dismissively toward the other blonde. “You simply must hear all about their little trip, the one where mein bruder takes his sweet young thing home to meet zee family,” she said.
“Oh, I have got to hear this,” Gail said eagerly. “So, did you go to Europe? Do vampires there have castles or stay in apartments or what?”
“No, dearie,” Georgia corrected. “Steve didn’t take me to meet his family. I got to meet the family. If I was really going to date one of their kind as well as serve a member of a rival clan, it was probably for the best that I got a little training and once-over by none other than the premier family of vampire service . . .”
“Tokyo? Are you serious?” Georgia cried as she waited in line at the post office, passport application in hand. She was rewarded with Ren’s normal lack of public expression. “Oh, I forgot. You’re always serious.”
“I told you that my master had big plans for you and for Mr. Lambley,” Ren said. “Did you get the photos?”
“I’ve got everything. Trust me,” she said before giving her folder of forms another once-over. “Are you going to tell me what we’ll be doing in Japan?”
“You? I’m not entirely sure,” Ren said. “My master and I have business, and we’ve arranged for Mr. Lambley to get an appointment with a doctor who is normally booked a few decades in advance.”
“You mean about his, um, teeth?” she asked softly as she scanned the line for any eavesdroppers.
Ren nodded. “My master and his sister cashed in a few favors to get the time opened, and we, err, my master, thought that you would enjoy a trip.”
“Well, I am a little curious, but I’ve never really thought about going to Asia. I don’t speak a lick of Japanese either.”
“One of my family members will always be with you to interpret. If you get stuck, just learn the phrase ‘Watashi-wa atama-ga warui gaijin desu. Biru ippon, kudasai,’ and you’ll be all set.”
“Water ski atom bomb—what?” she asked,
“Watashi-wa,” he said slowly.
“Watasheeee-wa,” she repeated.
“Atama-ga-”
“Atom bomb.” She stopped as he gave her a stern look and correctly mimicked him with “A-ta-ma-ga.”
“Warui gaijin desu.”
“Worried gaijin days,” she said quickly.
“Close enough,” Ren sighed. “Biru ippon, kudasai.”
“Bee-rude, eep-on, koooo-da-sai!” she finished triumphantly. “So, what did I just say?”
“I’m a stupid foreigner. May I please have a beer?” Ren said with a wicked little grin.
She whacked him with her folder a good few times as he burst out laughing. Before she could finish his thorough beatdown, he was saved by the postal worker calling her forward to finally process her paperwork. Ten minutes later he was still smiling as they wandered out into the bright autumn sun.
“You are such a dick,” she said as he continued to snicker.
“Your Japanese was pretty bad,” he said.
She pulled out her phone and searched furiously for a few minutes before taunting him with, “You know how I said you were an Asian Han Solo? Well, you’re actually Chew-Baka!”
He peeked over to see the page with lists of Japanese insults still showing on her phone. “That was truly terrible, you know,” he said flatly.
“Baka means jackass, right?” she asked.
“More or less, but it’s all in the delivery. If you really want to insult someone, you need to do it in Russian,” Ren said.
“You know Russian?”
“Of course I know Russian. I have to work with various families,” he said. “Anyway, my family will be able to help you. They are eager to meet someone who can help bridge the gap between the Pendragons and the Jaeger—”
“Bridge the gap? With the way those two have been lately, I think I’m more driving a wedge,” Georgia muttered. “So this doctor—”
“Dr. Pang,” Ren offered.
“His name is Pang? Does that hurt?” Georgia asked.
“The puns . . . so . . . terrible,” Ren said, clutching his chest. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“You started it,” Georgia teased. “Come on, don’t you have some amazing Russian insult for me?”
“Ya znayu chto ty gadkaya smes’ kozla, osla i barana!” he said without missing a beat.
“Do I even want to know?”
“Bear in mind that the beautiful thing about Russian insults is that they completely depend on context,” Ren said. “I said that I know that you’re a nasty mixture of goat, donkey, and sheep.”
“You called me a farm animal?”
“It’s a Russian thing.”
Georgia burst out laughing as they made their way down the street. She dragged him in for a quick bite of pizza and cold beer before they finally noticed the sunset.
“So, how many languages can you insult me in?” she asked.
Ren rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Insult you? Probably eleven.”
“You speak eleven languages?”
“I speak five actually, but I’ve learned to swear in many more.”
“And here I was proud that I made it through seventh-grade Spanish,” Georgia sighed. “Well, I’ve figured out Russian and Japanese. What are the other three?”
“English—”
“Duh!”
“Mandarin, and I’m learning German.”
“You really know how to make a gal feel inadequate,” she said. After picking at the last bit of crust, she dared to ask, “I can only guess who taught you German.”
“Both my master and mistress thought it was best that I speak their parents’ native tongue,” Ren said as diplomatically as he could.
“You really serve both of them?”
“I stay predominantly with Master Jaeger, but, technically, yes, I belong to both Stefano and Minerva.”
“You don’t belong to anyone,” Georgia countered. “Last I checked, the United States outlawed slavery a while back.”
“Like I’ve said, my contract is much more long-term than the one you were able to get from Mr. Lambley. It doesn’t matter, though. I don’t have anything to go back to anymore.”
“Come on, Ren,” Georgia sighed. “There has got to be more that you want to do than be the fake ID man for a bunch of undying creeps.”
“Don’t forget being a sustainable food source,” he added drily. “Speaking of which, Lady Minerva will be in Boston in a few days. She will be staying until we go to Tokyo for Mr. Lambley’s treatment.”
“Oh, I bet she will love seeing me around. I didn’t see much of her, but she had the same snooty attitude as the other Jaeger ladies. No offense.”
“She’s more traditional than my master,” Ren said. “But I know she will want to see Mr. Lambley and perhaps be over for a formal dinner. If you need help arranging it—”
“The Jaeger bombshell wants to come over for dinner?” Georgia said, shaking her head. “How nice.”
“I can handle the arrangements.”
“No, I’m Mr. Lambley’s assistant, aren’t I? How about you tell me what we need to do, and I’ll take a stab at it. If I get stuck, then I’ll call in the cavalry.”
He reached out to shake her hand. “Fair enough,” he said with another smile . . .
“Needless to say, I was completely unprepared for a formal vampire house call,” Georgia mused. She waited for Minerva to make a quip, but the blonde vampire only snickered under her breath. Georgia continued, “Ren told me to check Higgins’s old notes first because Mr. Lambley used to be quite the entertainer and it had a number for catering in there. You can imagine my surprise when it turned out to be an escort service! Still, I scrubbed the brownstone from stem to stern and managed to get Mr. Lambley’s suit cleaned, all while brushing off my vampire beau. I thought I had it under control until it was finally time to start dinner prep . . .”
“Georgia!” Mr. Lambley whined as the front doorbell rang. She set down the block of chocolate she was grating to run and grab the door, all while keeping the phone to her ear to get an updated ETA on their expected dinner guests. She stumbled over her shoes littering the hall, while her boss continued to grumble from upstairs that his pants had disappeared.
“Delivery for Miss Sutherland,” the courier said as Georgia signed on the dotted line. The packing slip simply read, “Ingredients,” and was postmarked from one of the exotic bondsmen vendors Ren had put her in touch with.
She raised a brow as she saw a row of airholes on either side of the rather unwieldy box. “What the hell is a deluxe amuse bouche set for a vampire?” she dared to ask as she schlepped the parcel toward the kitchen table.
“Georgia!” Mr. Lambley whined again.
She ran upstairs and found his pants hanging from the banister. Without looking she tossed them on his bed and reminded him to brush his hair and teeth. “I’ve got too much to do right now!” she called back. This time as she darted down the stairs, she scooped all the remaining undergarments that her boss had decided to decorate with and hid them quickly in a convenient linen closet. Much to her surprise, Mr. Lambley had also chosen that closet as the perfect place to hide his illicit stash of tomato juice and liquid candy. “He’s going to kill himself,” she growled as she dragged the contraband back to the sink. As she was pouring the toxic neon-colored sugar water down the drain, a distinctive mewing sound came from the table.
“Oh . . . no . . .” she gasped as she heard more adorable little noises coming from the box. “A vampire amuse bouche.”
Her phone lit up with a thirty-minute warning. She rushed back to the fridge to check on all the little dessert cups chilling between plastic bottles of plasma and various pig fluids.
The mewling grew louder until Georgia finally dared to grab some scissors and snip at the tape on the sides. She actually squeaked as she pulled away the lid to see pairs of little green and gold eyes staring plaintively back at her . . .
“No!” Gail cried. “You had kittens for dinner?”
“The young ones have an exquisite, nutty flavor and lack zee funk that older felines get,” Minerva added. “It’s always a delight, even if they never last long.”
Gail’s jaw continued to quiver. “You didn’t—”
“Oh, zee Berliner gave us a night we would never forget, didn’t she?” Minerva said. “Tell her just what sort of sacrifices you have to make if you want to serve us.”
Georgia drained the rest of her drink. “It wasn’t my finest night, but it taught me so much about the vampires around me.”
“But . . . kittens?” Gail said.
“You do realize that vampires’ primary food source is blood, don’t you, sweetie?” Georgia asked. “What do you think I had to do? If I can serve a freshly slaughtered hog to my guests, what is the difference if I serve a live appetizer? These were animals that would have been used for animal research anyways or put to death at the pound, not some local kids’ pets . . .”
Georgia continued to stare dumbfounded at the fluffy balls of fur writhing around in the towels that served as temporary packing. One of the little creatures had dared to put its paws on the lip, while the other two huddled at the bottom, crying out for some unfathomable kitty desire. The curious ginger beast ended up toppling over the side and staring in amazement at his huge white paws before his tail commanded his interest and he started rolling on the place mat.
Georgia picked up this largest and fluffiest of the kittens and plopped it in the box. A second later the same orange one jumped right back out and started meowing as he saw the edge of the table and realized that he was a touch higher up than his little legs were used to.
Just as Georgia was picking up the fluffball once more, her vampire host chose that moment to waddle into the kitchen and clap his hands with delight. “My favorite!” he exclaimed. “Can you blend one for me?”
Georgia turned as ghastly white as her companion. He stared at her in confusion as she shook her head slowly.
“Well, I can’t very well sink my teeth in one!” he blustered. “Seriously, woman, you are balmy on the crumpet sometimes.”
Her phone alarm chimed in with a fifteen-minute warning. She took that moment to text a desperate, “Help!” to Ren’s direct line before running upstairs, kitten in tow. She ended up plopping the plump orange furball in the bathtub while she frantically finished shoving herself into a dress and hose.
“You stay here,” she hissed before locking him in her special room and darting down the stairs. She then popped the lid on the box and shoved it under the table before she plugged in a baby bottle warmer so she could get the freshly pressed duck’s blood up to an appropriate aperitif temperature.
She ran to the dining room to light candles, the lounge to start a record, and the parlor to fluff each and every newly cleaned pillow. The once dark and dusty home had been transformed into a dark and spotless cavern, with fresh silk flowers on every table and the rich scent of vampire-approved bacon air fresheners tucked in each formerly musty corner.
Just as the ten-minute warning buzzed, Georgia jumped as the doorbell rang again. She snatched her phone from the mantel and double-checked the time, and the bell rang again.
“Oh, Lady Jaeger is notorious for showing up early,” Geoffrey called from the landing. “Did I tell you that?”
