Blood Will Out

chapter seven

"About time you decided to show up," Maeve calls as soon as her maid shows me into the parlor. It's all pastels and floral prints in luxurious materials and designs. Everything in the room is expensive and only barely not gaudy. It's like wealthy old woman Mecca.

"I didn't know where else to go," I tell her honestly.

She waves me toward her with a four of clubs. By the time I make it over to her she's put it back into the stack of cards in her hands.

"Some people say it's cheating to turn over one at a time." She nods at the solitaire game before her on the coffee table. "But I could die in an apocalypse tomorrow so I feel like this is the least I can do for myself."

Today she's wearing a matching jogging suit of the neon variety. I watch her shuffle through several cards before I realize she's not going to say anything more.

"Move that third stack over on top of the ten of hearts," I tell her.

She purses her lips while she considers it and then takes my suggestion.

"Did you come here to watch me play cards?"

"No."

She stops shuffling long enough to raise her eyebrows at me in challenge.

"I want to learn."

"And what if I don't want to teach you?"

"You said yesterday that you would."

She grunts noncommittally and grabs something off of the table next to her. When she thrusts the small bowl of pistachios into my hand I stare at it in confusion.

"You need to eat something," she says as she lays a seven of hearts down on the eight of clubs.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because your eyes are glowing," she says matter of fact. "The glowing eyes are always a dead giveaway about our level of hunger."

Everything in me goes still for a moment before my hands fly to my face. As if by touch I can confirm what she's saying. How could I have made it this far in life without knowing something like— her shoulders start to shake with laughter.

"Oh me," she says wiping a tear out of her eye. "The look on your face!" She tries to reign in her mirth. "I just thought you might be hungry since it's so far past lunchtime and I tend to think everyone needs snacks as often as they can get them."

I continue to stare at her in shock, unable to move my appendages one way or other.

"Go ahead," she waves a hand at me. "You're going to have to get used to my sense of humor if you want my help.

I have to swallow twice before I can make my hand move again.

"Are you this terrible to everyone or is it just me?" I sputter.

"Oh pish! I'm fantastic and you know it."

Now that my heart rate has slowed down again I can admit to that, though I'll never do so aloud. She's sort of horrible but if the last couple of days hadn't been so terrible I'd be much more inclined to admire how brash she is.

Her maid comes back into the room carrying tea tray nearly twice her size. She sets it down on the coffee table next to Maeve's solitaire game and leaves again without a word. These people really do like their tea.

"Elizabeth there is terrified of me," Maeve says as the young woman leaves the room. "I had a poodle like that once. Took me months to calm it down; had to feed it from my hand and work at it constantly. But that was years ago and at my age? Honestly, who has the time for these things?" She sighs dramatically. "Would you like some tea?" She asks.