Drawing Blood

Chapter Ten

I didn't say anything else to Adam, and the waitress brought us our meals, leaving us to eat in silence. I thought it strange that he'd had a reaction to the elderly man, but maybe he didn't think I'd noticed, so I thought it best not to bring it up. Perhaps, it was just a normal reaction - something werewolves did when they saw each other; a bit like wolves in a pact, when they were asserting their dominance. I didn't know much about his kind, or their existence. But I did know it didn't seem to bother him, after that. I followed his lead, ignoring it. What I wanted to focus on was us getting along better, and I didn't want anything to ruin that. There was a possibility that he might change his mind about leaving, and I had noted a distinctive chink in his armour. I reasoned if I could reach that soft side to him, appeal to his human nature, then he might allow me to stay.

If I couldn't, then I'd begrudgingly admit defeat.

"You looked like you enjoyed that," he muttered when he had finished eating. I could only manage a nod, and he smiled, happy that I'd allowed him to feed me. "You're not going to keep your strength up, if you keep skipping meals." When I told him that I forget to eat these days, he added, "I'm guessing that's my fault?"

"Not just yours," I conceded.

He fell quiet, to contemplate something, I guess. Then - "I take it you didn't think I'd notice your little disappearing act, this morning?" He sank back in his chair, throwing an arm around the empty seat next to him. He looked relaxed and peaceful now, and I liked him that way.

"It didn't even cross my mind," I lied. I pushed my plate away. I had eaten too much. Clearly, the waitress had taken pity on me and had given me an extra-large portion.

"Even though we had discussed certain things?"

I looked up as I caught the bemusement in his voice and found myself wanting to throw a napkin at him. "Well, I couldn't be certain," I confessed. "You ran off before we could go into depth on the subject."

He grinned. "I can't tell you all my secrets."

I flopped back in my own chair, folding my arms across my chest to study him closely. I decided to question him on his habits. "So, I take it you don't sleep, then?"

"I sleep," he answered, "I just wasn't sleeping this particular morning."

Curious to know why, but not willing to ask, I scanned the place once more, my eyes settling upon the fire. It was still alight; kept that way with a loving hand, I suppose. "I wish Will would put the bloody heating on," I said. "He'd be in a better mood, if he did."

"Is it still like Antarctica in your house?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. The antics of my skin-flint dad was a lousy kept secret. He honestly didn't know how embarrassing it could be that everyone saw him like a modern-day scrooge. I knew even the most skilled psychologist wouldn't be able to work him out. "I don't get it," I told him after a while, "We have a fireplace just like that in the living room, but he won't chop the wood for it. And coal is too expensive, or so he says."

"Maybe I can chop some wood for him?"

"Are you kidding, he'd kill you!"

"Well, I wouldn't do it in front of him!" he almost choked, "I know better than to cross that man."

"Yeah, I wouldn't go near him, if I were you," I warned him. I'd always found it amusing that Will was the only person he seemed genuinely afraid of, and unable to stop myself, I began conjuring up images of him with his hands around Adam's throat while I stood there screaming. No. Chopping wood for him would not be a good idea, at all. I shrugged, tossing the thought aside with a smile of my own. "I bet Christmas is going to be a non-starter, unless someone organises it," I said, changing the subject entirely. When he asked why, I explained, "Will has no decorations, no tree and only ice to eat."