Working for Love

Elf Blood Margarita (17)

The waitress brought out our drinks a few moments after Caspian and Gianna left. I had gotten a strawberry daiquiri while Damon had been true to his word and got some kind of alcoholic blood. I couldn't take my eyes off his glass. The liquid looked thinner than I had been expecting, probably due to the alcohol, but it was still dark red and the thought of its contents made my stomach turn over.

Of course vampires drink blood. They have to survive. But it's different hearing about it in school and online than it is staring at a glass you know contains human blood. Someone donated that blood. It used to be inside someone's body.

Damon caught me staring at his drink. He inhaled, as if to say something, then laughed a little. "I don't suppose you would want a drink."

I wrinkled my face, leaning slightly back. "No, thank you. I'll just stick to mine." I took a sip of my daiquiri to settle my stomach, turning my eyes away from Damon's cup of blood. I had to go on a date with a vampire. Sometimes I forget he's a vampire. Funny because he's two hundred years old. Wait, he's two hundred years old? I completely forgot about that part. "But you're so old!" Yeah, no kidding, Sultan. That's kind of disturbing.

"What?" said Damon with a hint of humor in his tone. I glanced at him. "You just got a horrified look on your face. Do you not like the drink?"

Am I supposed to tell him that I think he's super old? Would that be weird. I mean, I guess if we're going to possibly date in the future he's entitled to know my weird thoughts. "I just remembered how old you are. You're over two hundred and I'm twenty-seven. Is that weird? Do people not care about that?"

He shrugged a little. "Not really. Vampires stop aging when they're turned. If they're born, they stop at about thirty depending on genetics. I was turned when I was twenty-eight, so I'll look that age until I die. So, while I might be over two hundred years old, I look like I'm twenty-eight. The only reason people will look at us is because vampires don't usually date humans on account of their short lifespan."

Our short life span... I'll be dead in the next sixty years while Damon keeps living. Why would he want to date someone who will die so soon?

"How is your mother doing?" he asked before I could confront him with that question. Maybe it was too deep for a first date anyway.

"Good. I'm worried she's going to relapse though. The doctor said it happens, so we need to keep an eye on her." I sipped my drink, trying not to think too hard about my concerns. "What was your mom like?" I didn't think about it much when I asked it, but realized I usually avoided the topic of his family. They're all dead. He still seems pained by it, even after all these years. Damon hadn't said anything yet, only stared down into his glass of blood. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

He shook his head, not looking at me. "No, it's all right. I knew when I was turned that I would outlive all of them, but I didn't realize how much it would still hurt, even nearly two hundred years later. My mother..." He took a breath, leaning back as he thought. "My mother was constantly there. She was always there since women in the 1800s were prone to stay at home with their children. She was quick-tempered, but quicker to lose the anger and make up for it. If we did something wrong, she might yell at us, but would apologize later and bring us sweets. She enjoyed creating or trying new desserts, so my siblings and I always got to be her taste-testers. She was wonderful at reading stories. She usually read a chapter of something before bed to us. Her voice was always at the perfect decibel and her character voices were beyond compare of anyone else who ever read to me. She was warm, but firm, and everything a mam should be. I got my brown hair from her and those on her side of the family could see our resemblance, although most who looked at me outside of the family thought I looked more like Father." He smiled slightly, sadly.