Page 41 of By the Pint

I rang downstairs to the concierge. “Hi Jean, it’s Dima.”

“Dima, darling. How’s the quilting going?”

“Fine. Yeah. Great,” I said, though I hadn’t even thought about quilting since … well, since Casey. “May I order some room service?”

“Of course, what’ll it be this time? B positive … or, oh, Paulo’s got some rare DEA1 positive blood from a werewolf?”

Paulo was the hotel’s Demeter starred chef. Fae, but married to a vampire, so he understood the nuances of blood.

“Can I order human food? Fish tacos please, extra coriander and tomatoes, and a side of cheesy chips?”

There was a pause. “Uh, Dima, are you sure? Do you remember what happened last time you tried some of Paulo’s cooking? I understand he’s a renowned Inter-Realm chef, but if I’m being honest with you, darling, I don’t think we have enough supplies in the cleaning cupboard to handle the fallout.”

“It’s not for me.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Oh. In that case, I’ll have it brought right up.” I could hear the relieved, and curious, smile in her voice.

In the fifteen years since the Constellations Manor had been built, Jean, a human in her late fifties, had been an ever presence. She had short, choppy hair, which she always wore a different colour. This season she’d chosen pink. It contrasted herindelicate features and gave an overall pleasant effect. She also had five sons, who she adored, and typically spoke of nothing else. Sometimes she would say I was her sixth son. She meant it, too. Which was, in equal parts, heart-warming and terrifying.

“Actually, Jean.”

“Yes, darling?”

“Send up the werewolf blood as well.”

As I predicted, Jean pushed the room service trolley up herself. She attempted to peep around the doorframe to get a look at my mysterious guest. And since I’d never once brought anyone back to my suite, I guessed it was only natural my adopted human mother was curious.

“He’s in the shower,” I offered, lifting the tray bearing a silver dome covered dish, a glass bottle of blood, a napkin, and cutlery, from the cart.

Jean gave me a hearty smile. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Just, you know, stay safe.”Can vampires get sexually transmitted diseases?

“Thanks.”

Jean toddled off with her empty trolley.I’m glad he’s found someone. I really hate seeing him alone so often.

With my door open, and only one thin piece of mahogany separating me from Casey, his thoughts drifted into my consciousness.

Don’t worry, I had a wank thinking about you too. Urgh! Why? Why would he say that? And why, fucking why, can I not stop picturing it?

I should not have been hearing that. My stomach churned with guilt and awkwardness and also, yeah, arousal.

I quickly penned a note.

FROM THE DESK OF MR BLACK

Casey,

Please accept this peace offering and my apologies. If you are in agreement, I would like to apologise in person. Meet me tomorrow. Same time, same place.

D

I nestled the note next to the silver dome, removed the bottle of blood, and positioned the tray right outside his door. I closed my door, peered through the peephole, and floated his knife up to knock the handle loudly against the wood.

A moment later, Casey answered, and I nearly passed out at the sight of him. His hair was shower-fresh wet, he was shirtless, his locker key dangled around his neck, and on his bottom half he wore the thinnest pair of grey sweatpants I’d ever seen. They were probably pyjama bottoms, and they left everything, and nothing, to the imagination. His face was pulled into a perfectWTFexpression.

He shot a glance down the hall away from my door, and then bent down to read my note. The metal between us did an excellent job of concealing his thoughts from me, which was equal parts relieving, irritating, and totally discombobulating.

With the note in his hand, he stared down the corridor again, then lifted the lid on the dish. He immediately slammed it shut, stood, and fisted his hair with both hands. I didn’t know which bit of him to gawk at first before he turned into his room, disappearing for a few seconds.

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