Page 75 of The Biting Bargain

Polly takes a sip from her bottle of Dextro-Gate — seriously, how can she even drink that kind of poison? Humans are weird — without turning her critical gaze from me.

"And your family?" she asks, "how did they react?"

"Oh, my father tried to kill me," I say simply. She looks at me in shock.

"Hey, we're an old-fashioned vampire clan. And my father was born sometime in the Middle Ages, when standards were different. Just disinheriting me wouldn't cut it."

When the horror doesn't leave her face, I quickly add, "My mother stopped it. And dragged me to the witch who installed the counter curse. The whole thing was pretty hush-hush. The big, dark secret that no one is supposed to know about."

I give her a look and Polly tilts her head. Exposing her delicious neck.

"What reason would I have to reveal your secret?" she asks with crinkled eyebrows.

I chuckle and rise to my feet. Following the impulse that I want — need — to be closer to her. "Are you done?"

She nods and takes the hand I hold out to her to pull her up.

* * *

The moon shineson the lake, silvery white flickers on velvety black water as we walk along the shore.

I can’t let go of her hand. Thank fuck no one sees us like this. Thank fuck we are completely alone on my property. Only a few hundred-thousand fireflies floating around us in the high grass witness me with a human by my side, meandering through my vast gardens like a lost, unfortunate and rather pitiful idiot.

Her hand in mine feels warm and tender and just right, while I match my stride to hers and listen to her talk. About high school. Her girlfriends. Her horrible call center job. About her tiny apartment in that crumbly old building she only found courtesy of her friend. About her favoring spaghetti al pomodoro above all other pasta dishes. About her ridiculous liking of boba tea. And about her frequent visits to the fabric market and how much she loves brightly colored swatches on fabrics.

And I soak it all up like a sponge, wanting to know every little thing about her. Something is clearly wrong with me. But to be honest, it doesn’t feel wrong at all.

"Luna and Marigold have been bugging me for years to promote my stuff on social media," she’s just saying.

"Why haven't you?" I ask.

"Huh?" She looks up at me, green eyes gleaming in the twilight.

"We're talking about that raunchy underwear you design, right?"

She laughs coyly. "Design. That sounds like I had a clue what I was doing."

"As hot as you look in it, I'd say they serve their purpose."

I can see her blushing in the dark. Hooray for paranormal night vision.

"What you have, sir, is an aberration of taste," she retorts.

"Au contraire. I am a man of exceedingly refined tastes."

"Oh, do forgive me, Your Lordship,“ she deadpans, and then she pulls me along the path that leads down to the lake. A wide footbridge leads out onto the water, its end covered by an ornately carved pavilion. Lavish green vines snake their way up the pilings, dotted with thick leaves and white flowers that seem to glow into the moonlit night.

Man, I haven't been in my own park in a long time.

Polly sits down on the bench at the very edge of the gazebo, pulling me next to her. Our feet dangle over the softly gurgling water. And the moon hangs above us like an oversized halo.

The sight leaves me speechless once again.

"Did you miss it?" Polly asks quietly.

I nod. No other answer is possible. In all the years, decades, centuries I've had to hide from the moon so no one would know my secret, I've missed it.

I’ve missed it so much some nights, I thought I might lose my mind.

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