Double Take by A.J. Cole (literature books to read TXT) 📕

“Ah, there you are!” she’d exclaimed, standing. “Thank you, Socrates.” She’d given the man a brilliant smile and he turned to leave.

“Hold it.” Arissa, aware as she was of the whole living-forever thing among Kyria’s kind, had said, “He isn’t… I mean, is that the original… I - ”

Kyria had burst out laughing. “Yes, you charming girl, he’s the same Socrates you’ve read about in school.”

“But – but didn’t he, like, drink hemlock and… ”

“He did, but since he was a vampire, it didn’t do him any harm. And because he was already dead, faking his own death was easy. They simply dug him up a few days later and got him out of the city before anyone noticed him walking around.”

Incredulous, Blaine had given the man a wild-eyed stare. “Oh, my god! But – you were the best! Brilliant! And now you’re a – a butler?”

The Greek philosopher had offered him a shrug. “It’s a living.”

“Right… ” Arissa had mouthed the word “wow,” and asked Kyria if she could sit down.

A short while later, after Socrates had made a brief reappearance with a tray of fruit and cheese, they’d settled into a discussion about Blaine’s mentoring of Arissa. Starting with how he had become a werewolf in the first place, then on to the characteristics, advantages and shortcomings of the werewolf class, they’d eventually gotten around to the question of reproduction, hence Arissa’s inquiry about zombies.

Not entirely sure she was okay with any of the answers she was getting, she asked what Blaine would do if they met on the night of a full moon.

“Kill you, probably.” He shrugged, not sounding in the least bit sorry about this.

“That’s horrible! Besides, if you tried, I might have to kill you, you know.”

“Of course. Which is why we do all we can to avoid one another on those nights. In fact, unlike the vampires, few of us werewolves go out then. We all have cellars with strong, iron doors, and servants or relatives who are willing to lock us in until the morning.”

Arissa nodded. “Makes sense. But if that’s the case, why were you out roaming the woods that night?”

“Long story.”

She didn’t doubt it, so decided to let it go. “Fine. And why are the doors made of iron, by the way? Why not silver?”

Blaine laughed. “Are you serious? Have you seen the price of silver? Not to mention that the whole silver thing is a lot of nonsense. It doesn’t affect us.”

“Oh. What does? Affect you, I mean.”

“Dark chocolate.”

The girl stared. “Er, what?”

“You heard me.”

“So if someone filled a bullet with dark chocolate, it would kill you?”

“No, Riss. The bullet would kill me all by itself. Any bullet piercing a vital part of our anatomy would do that. Hello? Chocolate, however, ingested in large enough quantities, can cause a toxic reaction that – ”

“Oh! Like a dog!”

He groaned. “You had to say that, didn’t you.”

She shrugged. “My friend has a dog, and told me that chocolate can make it very sick or kill it. Shut down its liver or something. And so okay, a wolf isn’t exactly the same as a dog, but they’re kinda in the same family, aren’t they?”

“Now you’re chocolate,” he muttered, grimacing.

“In other words, you’re killing him.” Kyria chuckled at them and stood. “I do believe we’ve covered all the most important aspects of this, yes? Arissa, dear, you must have realized by this time that most of the characteristics you’ve been given come from the vampire side, but that they’re triggered by the werewolf blood that has mingled with your own and become part of your new genetic makeup.” She took a delicate sip of blood from the cut crystal wine glass that had been by her on the desk. “I must, however, add something to all of this, as is my responsibility as both Priestess and Queen.”

She took another sip and set the glass back down, folded her arms, and regarded them both with a resigned look in her glimmering eyes. “I couldn’t help but notice, Blaine, that when you look at Arissa, there is more than simple mentor-like interest there. And Arissa, it’s quite obvious that you’re drawn to Leander. As for Vlad, he’s what you might call a real ladies’ man, a player. Forget it. What I’m trying to say is that at this stage, a relationship between you, dear Arissa, and any one of these delicious-looking young men could lead to a disastrous future. I would recommend you refrain from throwing yourself at any one or all of them.”

That, Arissa thought, was outrageous. “Hold it – uh, with all due respect, that is. I have never ‘thrown myself’ at anyone and while yes, I find them all attractive, one of them is dead, another is capable of calmly tearing me apart during the full moon – no offense, Blaine – and the other… well, I know the consequences of having kids with another werepire, but mostly, I don’t know him well enough yet to get that close. So please, Kyria, don’t sell me so short, okay? Give me credit for having a little more self-control than that.”

The vampire smiled unexpectedly and put a kind hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I also don’t know you all that well yet, either, so of course I have to err on the side of caution. You understand, I’m sure. Please don’t let my expressions of concern offend you.”

Is this the part where her gentle grasp turns into a squeeze that tears my shoulder out of its socket? “Of course not.” Erring on the side of caution seemed like an excellent idea at that moment. “I didn’t mean it like that. Guess I’ve been through a lot of changes lately and I’m finding it difficult to deal with it all so quickly.” She offered an apologetic smile.

The hand was removed. “Naturally, you poor, sweet thing.”

Arissa almost asked Kyria if she’d ever played Morticia Addams. “Um, is there anything else I should know before I go home?”

“No, I believe we covered all the essential points.” Her smile, while beautiful, was also wide enough to display her fangs in an almost alarming way.

Arissa refused to play Renfield; she’d done enough groveling for the time being. “I’ll remember – thank you.” There. Polite and to the point. No groveling for her, no sir.

“Ah, Socrates.” Kyria was looking over Arissa’s head toward the doorway. “You’ll show our guests out now. Thank you, dear.”

“Of course, Madam.” The erstwhile Greek philosopher gave his Queen a deep bow then gestured the two visitors toward the door.

Arissa could have sworn she saw him give the woman a quick wink before following them into the hallway.

When she and Blaine emerged from the pillars and went out through the gate, she turned to ask him what he was going to do now that their audience with the queen was over, but before she could speak, he pulled her into a tight hug.

She squeaked. It was the best she could do; he was strong, and was crushing her so close she almost couldn’t breathe. A few seconds of this surprising behavior ended when he released her enough to give her a long, deep kiss.

When that was over, she took a step back and stared up at him in minor shock. “Blaine?!”

“You, Arissa Martin, are the first were-anything that has voiced even the slightest objection to something Kyria said, and lived. In fact, you totally reproved her! My god, you’re good!”

She thought about that for less than a second. “Okay, that explains the hug.”

“So you want to know why I kissed you.”

“Again, yes.”

“Oh. Well, as I told you when we were talking to Kyria, I got bitten about forty-five years ago. Since then, I’ve had the most rotten luck finding a girlfriend. You can probably understand why. Anyhow… ” He trailed off and looked at the ground, struggling, she could tell, with how to continue.

She let him struggle.

“Yeah, so. So it’s been a really long time since I’ve even kissed a girl, much less – right. And the fact is, you have the most amazing lips.” He looked back at her and offered a quirky smile. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“So you helped yourself.”

He blinked. “Oh. Huh. I guess that’s one way to – you’re very clever, you know that?” His smile broadened. “I’d better be careful, or I’ll end up falling in love with you. Ha! Wouldn’t Kyria be thrilled about that!”

“And to think your first impression of me was that I’d make a great entrée.”

He nodded, sobering. “It almost makes me want to thank you for kicking me in the, er, for kicking me.”

She burst out laughing, startling him. “Come on – I’ll give you a ride home.” She pulled out her keys and went to where her car patiently sat rusting across the street.

And like a delighted puppy dog, Blaine followed.

Lunch with mother dear was a situation Arissa had avoided with great success for a long time. But fate, inevitability, and her mother’s relentless determination, had finally caught up with her. So there she was, sitting at the table in her mother’s spotless kitchen, a gourmet-style chicken curry salad glistening at her from what for most people would be good china, but what for Mrs. Martin was everyday service plating.

Three weeks had passed since Arissa’s chat with Kyria, and the full moon was once again approaching. In the meantime, her life had continued along its version of a normal path; school was school, work was work, Leander was suddenly avoiding her. Yup. Life was back to normal. She had chalked the Leander thing up to Kyria, who had most likely threatened him with a severe biting if he didn’t back away from their newest member of the “family.” What bothered her more than the woman’s possible interference was Leander’s compliance. Where was the man’s spine? Ah, well. And then the phone call from her mother that had given her no choice but to agree to a Saturday lunch date. Bleh.

Thus far, the conversation had been typical, unexciting, touching on nothing Arissa found important enough for her mother to have demanded her presence. So she dug into her salad, knowing she wouldn’t be expected to speak with her mouth full, and listened to the woman twittering on and on about Mr. Martin and his annoying little habits, about the neighbor who had purchased a white lapdog that barked at anything that moved or even looked as if it might, about Arissa’s shirt looking like it had been trampled by an army of elephants and why didn’t she ever iron her things…

But then, the meal over at last, the real reason for all of this emerged in the form of a statement. “Trina is making the most disturbing claims about you.”

Arissa wiped her mouth and sat back. She’d been wondering if or when her cousin would say something about that visit during her first full-moon outing. “What else is new?”

“Well, this is, really. She’s never had much nice to say about anyone, but this is completely over the top!”

To act too upset too soon would only make her look guilty, Arissa knew, so she shrugged instead, and