The Vampire and the Orphan

Chapter Four

"You ready yet?" Nathanial asked.

His eyes shifted to the sky. Whatever that thing was, it did seem like light kept it away.

Good instincts on Lettie's part.

"Yes, I think this is plenty." She said as she stood with her rhubarb in hand.

He blinked, caught in something of a moment.

She was a vision, this girl in the white nightgown. Her long hair blew in the wind. Her cheeks were rosy pink from the bite in the air. Her lips curled into a soft smile—a real one. Not the usual flirty, cunning, or manipulative smile he was used to from women at bars.

Quickly he gathered himself and looked away.

"Let's get inside then." He said, motioning for her to follow him back in.

She found a clear spot on the counter and set her fruit down. She then started to rummage for a plate.

"You don't eat food then?" She asked curiously. She set her plants down on the plate and walked over to the couch with them. He had a table at one point but didn't get one this time.

"Not needed. However, I can if I choose." He filled his glass with bourbon. "It's tasteless, and digestion isn't pleasant, so I don't."

"Oh." She nods slowly. "Why do you have dishes?"

"Greta." He explained. "She lived here for her last five years."

"You kept them all this time?"

"I haven't been here since she passed on." He revealed. "Fifty years ago."

"You had a house for that long and didn't live in it?" She asked incredulously.

He chucked. "Buying and selling houses is how I make money. Some I keep. This was one."

"I'll go switch those clothes to the dryer." He rose to do so as he'd heard the washer stop.

"That's sweet of you, thank you." She offered a soft smile.

"Don't mention it." He shrugged it off.

"Why not? You rescued me and offered to guard me. You've also opened your home to me. I'd say I owe you a thank you."

"It's not necessary." He rose and was swiftly making his way toward the cellar.

"It is to me. So thank you, Nathanial."

"Sure." He muttered.

She sure was headstrong this one. He did appreciate she'd chosen his given name, though.

She adapted very quickly to everything. Too fast, a normal teenage girl would be traumatized after the events tonight. He considered this as he descended to the cellar.

She was a peculiar girl, but that could be explained by how she grew up.

Greta was the last Odin witch, and she never had a baby. Of that, Nathanial was sure. It would be impossible that Lettie was related to her.

He switched the clothes over to the dryer and headed back up.

She was munching loudly on the rhubarb and looked happy.

"I can tell these roots are old! The older they are, the better the fruit." She chirped.

"Well, it's been fifty-five years since she planted it." He sat down in the chair with his drink.

"You drink but don't eat?" She asked.

"It's not as unpleasant as digesting food." He explained. "I get something of a buzz. Nothing like humans. But it relaxes me."