Page 51 of Hot Blooded

Her bloodmate, Fran, was equally as striking, with copper-bright hair styled in a fresh skin-fade undercut. She wore expensive-looking, perfectly tailored wool trousers in a Black Watch plaid pattern, a black dress shirt buttoned to the throat, and a pair of patent leather monk strap oxfords that would’ve made GQ cover models weep with envy. Tattoos emerged from her sleeve cuffs, indiscernible black designs that ended at her knuckles.

Tessa suddenly felt like a dowdy frump. She resisted the urge to fidget with the neckline of her blouse as she got up from the settee.

“Hi,” she said, trying to sound appropriately excited, but veering a little too far into crazed, instead. She winced at herself and tried to dial it in a bit. “Um, I’m Tessa… which Amos already told you.” She laughed nervously.

Etta and Fran both smiled, and Tessa couldn’t help but think that Etta’s smile looked a little strained. Was she also nervous? Or was she unhappy? Maybe she had already deemed Tessa not good enough for her… progeny? Is that what Amos had called himself?

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Etta said. Her voice sounded just as young as her face looked, but there was a mild accent, similar to the one Amos had, that imparted a sense of age. Was it a holdover from the time period in which they’d been human? Or did all vampires just have a vaguely historical-sounding accent?

Tessa realized that too much time had passed since Etta had spoken, and everyone was staring at her. “Oh! Thank you, yes, it’s so great to meet you, too!”

Fran chuckled softly, her mossy green eyes darting from Etta to Tessa and back again. “Tessa, what would you say to a drink?”

Tessa’s eyes widened as her gaze shot to Amos. “Alcohol? I thought that wasn’t… allowed.”

Fran and Etta both laughed.

Amos looked a bit embarrassed. “Uh, no, you can drink. The blood-matching agency would’ve required donors not to drink alcohol because if there’s enough in your blood it can make us drunk.”

“Oh.” The idea of Amos getting literally drunk off her blood held some kind of illicit appeal. But now was not the time to think about that.

“But it doesn’t matter, because your contract is paid out. You can drink if you want. Just… well, warn me, I guess. I’d hate to try getting work done while I was half in the bag without realizing it.”

“Oh, you’d realize it,” Etta said silkily, shooting a devious glance at Fran. A little smile quirked the corner of Fran’s mouth.

Amos cleared his throat. “Ahem. Well. Have a seat, everybody.”

Etta and Fran sank into the button-tufted chairs on the other side of the coffee table, while Tessa sank back down onto the settee.

“Fran, what’ll you have?” Amos asked, still standing.

“Do you still have that rosé from last month?”

Amos nodded. “Tessa?”

“Oh, er… I’ll have what Fran’s having. Thanks.”

The idea of drinking wine seemed almost illegal. She’d gone months without touching alcohol because of her HemoMatch contract. She’d never been much of a drinker to begin with, but any tolerance she’d had was shot now. Would it make her look high-maintenance and prissy to ask for a wine spritzer? She didn’t want Etta to think she was taking advantage of Amos’s generosity and kindness. So she kept her lips shut and resolved to sip very slowly.

“So, Tessa,” Etta said in her soft, sweet, vaguely antique-sounding voice. “Tell us about yourself. Amos has been somewhat close-lipped.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Tessa answered, trying to figure out how to condense her entire identity into acceptable small-talk. “Um, I’ve lived in Chicago most of my life. I’m a nurse. I… uh…” She cast about, trying to think of a hobby or passion of hers. The truth was, she’d had no time for either hobbies or passions the last several years. Giving up, she shifted the conversation to them. “What about you?”

“Ah. Well. I’ve also lived in Chicago for most of my life. I work for the Council as a financial analyst.” Tessa realized that Etta must have meant she worked for the vampire Council. “Fran and I met in 1974 when she hit me with her car.”

Tessa blinked. “What?”

“It was an accident,” Fran stressed. “And it was mostly her fault.”

Tessa looked from Fran to Etta, not sure how to respond to that.

Etta shrugged, lips pressed together to suppress a smile. “I should’ve been more aware of my surroundings,” she admitted. “Our senses are sharp enough that I ought to have known a car was coming before I tried to cross the road. But I was a little distracted. I’d gotten some spiked blood at an unground vamp club without realizing it. I was completely out of my head. I ended up chasing taillights all the way out of the city, out of the suburbs even. I was in a nowhere farm town when Fran plowed me over like roadkill.”

“I did not!” Fran objected, laughing. “You bashed off my front fender and put me into a tailspin! I ended up in the ditch because you were high as a kite!”

“Accidentally!” Etta shot back.

Tessa laughed with both of them, feeling almost light-headed as the worst of her nerves settled. Amos reappeared, glasses of rosé in hand. He handed one to Fran, then joined Tessa on the settee. She accepted her glass from him and sipped at it cautiously.

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