Calaphase stared off into the distance, thinking. “This is bad,” he said. “Revenance dead. Two more vamps missing, plus Josephine. And now this attack. Look, talk to your pet cop-”
“Andre Rand is not a pet,” I said. “He’s like an uncle. I can’t believe he hung up on me.”
“I can’t either, Dakota, but call him back,” Calaphase said, again with quiet authority. “We’ve got to investigate this, but we can’t lead cops to the werehouse. Rand will have to work through you. Get him on board and ask him what evidence you need to collect.”
“I’m not a crime scene investigator, Cally-”
“Then learn what you need to do,” Calaphase repeated. “Get a copy of Criminology for Dummies if you have to. When you come for Cinnamon on Thursday, you can take pictures-”
“Wait, what about Thursday,” I said. “I’m coming back tomorrow.”
“No, Dakota,” Calaphase said, staring off into the distance with the same quiet finality. I glared at him, about to speak, but he abruptly looked over, his blue clear eyes meeting mine. I quickly looked away at the table, and he sighed. “I’m not going to put the whammy on you. You can look at me. Please. Look at my face, if not my eyes.”
Reluctantly I looked up, not quite directly meeting his gaze. It was a pity that he was a vampire, that his eyes could project his aura and work on my will. Otherwise I would have enjoyed gazing into them, two gems of blue sky embedded in a statue of dark cruelty.
“The werehouse is a private haven for a private affliction,” he said gravely. “No police, no outsiders-and especially no fresh meat on the full moon.” His eyes sparkled. “Unless you’re planning on providing a one-time catering service for Wednesday night’s hunt.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “When you put it that way-what time on Thursday?”
“Right at six-the moon will just be coming up, but the sun will just have gone down, so I can protect you,” Calaphase said, taking a sip of his Frappuccino. He got the same pained expression, and this time I was certain it wasn’t a brain freeze.
“What gave you the idea to eat human food?”
“Not a what,” Calaphase said, eyes still closed, now just as clearly savoring the taste. “A who. You, Dakota.” His eyes opened, catching the shock in my glance before I looked away, and he laughed. “This is the Saffron diet. You told her to try human food.”
“I did?” I asked… and then I remembered. “I did. When she was thinking about becoming a vampire, she told me she’d have to give up human food-”
“And you said, ‘Why? Aren’t you going to even fucking try it?’” Calaphase responded, miming my diction uncannily. “And so she did. Every vampire tries eating rare steak and pukes it up. Saffron analyzed vampire digestion, started off with sugar water, and built up from there.”
“So… if it’s so bad, why torture yourself? Are you going vegetarian-”
“Hell, no,” Calaphase said. “I love the taste of blood. But… Saffron’s a daywalker, Dakota. She can stand in the sun and not catch fire. And she thinks a diet of human food-ahem, a diet of food humans eat-has a lot to do with that.”
“Did Revenance follow the Sav-uh, ‘Saffron’ diet?” I asked, pleased and horrified: pleased that vampires were cutting back on blood, and horrified that it might loose these predatory superhumans onto the daylit world. “He lasted a long time under a cloudy sky.”
“So it did work,” Calaphase said. “Revy always was bolder than me. Since I started the diet, I’ve felt less oppressed by the daystar, but I’ve not been brave enough to face it.”
“Don’t be in too much of a hurry,” I said quietly. “He survived the clouds… but direct sunlight killed him.” That unpleasant reminder hung there between us, and Calaphase took a sip of his beverage, again staring off into the distance. Eventually I filled the gap. “So… where are you on the Saffron diet?”
“I could show you. Canoe is my current favorite restaurant in the area,” Calaphase said. “You’d like it. I should take you there.”
I blinked. “Did… you just ask me out?”
Calaphase blinked as well. “No, I was just thanking you for-” he began… and then stopped. Then he looked me straight in the eyes, blue gems gleaming in that handsome statue, and said, with quiet confidence, “Yes, I did. Would you like to go to Canoe, Dakota?”
My heart leapt into my throat and I felt my face flush. Oh. My. God. I had just attracted the attention of a vampire, one who probably chased his steaks with O Positive. Very bad news. I don’t like vampires. I certainly don’t date vampires. And why was I thinking of dating, when I was dating Philip Davidson… Philip, who was off in Virginia, and who was never here?
“I don’t give blood,” I blurted.
“Never on a first date,” Calaphase said with a smile. Then the smile faded. “I’m serious. Never on a first date. It means as much to me as sex.”
“Then how do you live?” I said, brow furrowing. I don’t trust vampires because I was trained as a chemist. Vampires were powerful and fast-so something had to be powering those hyperactive metabolisms. If blood was no richer in calories than a good Frappuccino it would take something like a gallon a day to feed them-and a human can’t safely donate more than a pint of blood every few months. “I mean, the amount of human blood-”
“Cow’s blood, actually,” Calaphase said, a bit embarrassed. “Kosher butchers have been selling it to vampires, both above and below the table, for hundreds of years.”
I blinked.
“I can show you where I buy it,” he said, sipping his Frappuccino.
“I think I’d prefer Canoe for our first, uh, date,” I replied, with a nervous little laugh.
“Call it a dinner in thanks for your service if it makes you more comfortable. Besides, the Lady Saffron doesn’t share well with other clans,” Calaphase said. “Still… is that a yes?”
We were just staring at each other now. I was afraid to breathe. Did Calaphase breathe? Saffron would say, if he eats, he breathes, but I wasn’t sure; come to think of it, vampires were magic. Could his metabolism involve magic? Would our date?
“Are you free tomorrow night?” I said suddenly.
“Yes,” he said. “No-damnit, yes. I will have to return to the werehouse, but I can take a break around dinnertime. I’ll meet you at the restaurant. You’ll feel safer.”
“I’ll feel safer or you’ll feel safer?” I asked, tugging the ring on my collar. “I know I’m safe around a vampire, unless you want a ‘Lady Saffron’ garlic enema. Don’t trust yourself?”
“Oh, I trust myself completely,” Calaphase said, staring straight at me. “No matter how good the dish looks, I know the stew tastes better if you let it simmer.”
Calaphase’s phone rang, more werehouse business, and while he spoke I excused myself with a nervous wave, hopped in the blue bomb and fled out into the dark. My brain was buzzing: finish the paperwork for the Clairmont Academy, buy Cinnamon’s books, get the Prius fixed up, find a good lawyer to handle the adoption and the Valentine Foundation’s missing payments, and, oh, yeah, track down a graffiti killer. There were a thousand things to do.
But mostly my brain was buzzing with the obvious: I was having dinner with a vampire. Oh, man. How did that happen? And why was I so jazzed about it? My palms were almost as damp on the wheel as they had been when Cinnamon had been ready to rip my head off.
I tried to force myself to relax.
So I was having dinner with a vampire. What’s the worst that could happen?
Magical Fallout
“You want me to what? ” I said, bringing the Prius to a screeching stop.
“Stop what you’re doing and stay out of this,” Rand ordered through my Bluetooth headset. I’d called him back, just as Calaphase had asked… but bringing him back on board was proving to be difficult. Rand wasn’t going down without a fight. “This investigation is getting hairy. Having a loose cannon is going to complicate things.”
“But I’ve already started,” I said, and I had. I’d not yet found anything on magical graffiti, but I had found a little on magical pigments and a lot about regular graffiti. Now that I was primed for it, I was seeing graffiti everywhere-on walls, on street signs, even on the street itself. It was hard not to get lost in the raw folk beauty of graffiti, but already I was starting to notice patterns, possibly crews, and even the occasional magic mark, and was convinced we could catch this guy. “In fact, it’s hard to see how I could stop-”