stood on my porch and was about to get a good whiff of that.
On my way down the hall, I absently touched my neck where the vampire had fed on me. The wound had shrunk to a rough scar. My father’s watch had worked some serious mojo on me while I slept. I wondered if I could hold out hope that it had eliminated the infection. Doubt hung around me, though, as I remembered what Sly had said last night. He had seemed pretty certain clearing the infection wouldn’t be so easy.
The pasty taste in my mouth made me grimace. I bet my breath smelled twice as nasty as my body. I probably wouldn’t have to set anybody’s pamphlets on fire with magic. I could do it with my dragon breath alone.
But when I opened the door, it wasn’t to a religious zealot.
It was Fiona.
I took a startled step backward. I also held my breath to keep from blowing any nastiness in her direction.
She wore a snug pair of jeans and a pink Hello Kitty T-shirt. Her face looked fresh and her hair a little damp, as if she had recently come out of the shower.
I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it was full on daylight, so I guessed it was probably on the other side of noon. In fact, the sunlight hurt my eyes, forcing me to squint.
The first sign of vampirism kicking in?
Don’t get all freaked out. You just woke up and you have a bass drummer practicing his drum line routine in your head. Don’t read too much into it.
“You’re that happy to see me, huh?” Fiona said. One corner of her mouth turned up. She was putting me on. Which, I had to admit, I found surprising, since I had totally stood her up last night. Good excuse or not.
“No,” I said, then realized what that sounded like. I sputtered for a moment before I could find a better set of words. “I mean, yes, I’m happy to see you. Just surprised.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t really think I would let you off the hook so easily for your no-show, did you?”
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to think. I haven’t had much time to think.”
She tilted her head to one side to get a look at my neck. My skin burned with sudden self-consciousness.
“You okay?” she asked slowly.
A nice, open ended question. She was giving me an out, I realized. Rather than asking about the fresh scar on my neck directly. This girl really was too good to be true.
“I had a rough night. And I’m really sorry about standing you up. I had…” I glanced past her to the ripped up part of my lawn. “Car trouble?”
Her eyes narrowed. She seemed to process my words for a second before giving a small shrug. “Whatever. It’s your business, not mine.” That could have sounded sarcastic, or derogatory. Instead, she sounded perfectly genuine.
Again, I thought, this girl is way too good to be true. I almost reached out and swung my hand at her to see if it would pass through her like one of my father’s puppet conjurations. A faint soapy scent blowing in on the breeze hinted she was real enough. I tried a smile. My mouth felt stiff, but I think I got it right.
“So I’m forgiven?” I asked.
She screwed her lips up to one side and hummed. “One condition,” she said. “We reschedule. Make it an official date.”
Date? Had she just said date ?
I stood there with my mouth hanging open. She laughed.
“Speak,” she said.
I shook off my initial shock when my father’s watch suddenly flared with magical heat in my pocket. It was like it was trying to tell me something. Or remind me.
Remind me that my life was way too damn complicated for dating. Especially a normal like Fiona. She deserved better. Like I had said at least twice already, she was too good to be true. Operative words in my case— too good .
“I can’t,” I said.
Her gaze went to my neck, then quickly recovered, looking me in the eyes. “Did I sound like I was asking?”
“Excuse me?”
“I wasn’t asking, Sebastian. I was giving you a condition of my forgiveness.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry. I really