I was starting to get pissed off. "Oh yeah? You saw that all in the five minutes since we've been here, did ya?"
"Twenty minutes," she corrected. "Twentyexcruciatingminutes since you walked in the door and we've had to share a table."
The waitress showed back up right as she was opening her mouth again, probably to berate me some more.
"Oh thank the gods," I whispered too loudly, and proceeded to rattle off my order. I regretted it right away because I knew it was going to take longer than thirty minutes to get my meal. But I was rattled, damn it, and this redheaded she-devil was pissing me off.
Maron ordered, too, and I couldn't help stare at her in horror. A salad, a side of roasted asparagus, and another side order of truffle mac and cheese.
Vamps didn't have to eat, but when they did, nine times out of ten they chose something a lot more bloody.
"For the love of all things I cherish, please don't tell me you're really a vegetarian." A werewolf and a vamp could date, but they couldn't procreate. It was against the rules, but if I thought strategically about it, she could allow me to scrape more time together before my parents really screamed about children. But dating a vamp who didn't drink blood? And on top of that holy what the hell heap, for her to shun meat?
The world was too much tonight.
"It was in the dossier," she said mildly as she sipped her wine.
"That you're what? A vegan vamp?" I cried. This was outrageous.
"Usually vegan," she clarified, like I gave a crap. "But cheese is delicious, so I eat on both spectrums."
I waved my water glass at her. "I don't even care. You never drink blood?"
She shrugged. "Never had to."
I opened my mouth to speak, then shut it. I couldn't stop staring at Maron. "So what happened?" I finally asked, curious in spite of myself.
"The quickening never happened."
"So you've never had bloodlust? What are you, like a late bloomer or something?"
Maron rolled her eyes at that. "I'm 25." Then she looked down at her boobs. "From everything I can tell, I went through the puberty process." Then she looked at me. "Did you?"
I blustered. "What? Yes!"
A smile hit the edge of her mouth, showing off an adorable little dimple. Just one. I blinked several times, trying to make the charm of it go away.
"You're unlikable," I pronounced.
A snort came from her. "Me? The king of unlikable people dares wave his wand around and cast aspersions at someone who only called you out on your crap?"
"The king of unlikable people?"
"Yes, I think it's a good title." She sipped her wine.
"Why am I even still sitting here?" I thought out loud.
"I truly have no idea. I expected you to leave a long time ago."
"Maybe I should," I threatened, though I knew it was an empty one as soon as I said it. For some reason even though talking to Maron felt like repeatedly running into a brick wall, I was having fun. In spite of myself. Because she was terrible.
Literally terrible.
She gestured at the door with her wine glass. "Be my guest," she announced.
"What about you? Why aren't you leaving?"
"Because I love this restaurant, and I just ordered truffle mac and cheese."
