What do you do when the woman you love has a decided taste for Bloody Marys that really are bloody Marys?
Tony noticed right off the bat that something wasn't quite right when he saw the tell tale crimson stains on Melissa's mouth after their first time making love.
His second clue to the possiblity that she was a vampire were the two puncture marks on the inside of his thigh just a bit too near the family jewels.
What clinched it for him, though, were the bottles of blood marked AB and O chilling in her refrigerator.
"Mel, is there something you forgot to tell me?"
He stood by the fridge door, trying to convince himself that they were test bottles of wine. Melissa was, after all, the head chef of a three star restaurant in Manhattan. Maybe she was experimenting with some new vintages. And the blood stains, well she had been quite enthusiastic when he had suggested she "go for it".
Perhaps he was wrong.
He padded barefoot back into the bedroom. Mel was sitting up in bed, naked, the sheet fallen to her waist revealed another reason to ignore the obvious clues to her unique state of existence.
She was stacked like a brick house.
Her mouth was pink and perfect and entirely free of blood.
Maybe he had imagined it?
She smiled. "Did you say something? I couldn't quite hear you."
There, he was wrong. Everyone knew vampires had terrific hearing.
He grinned as he walked back to the bed. "Nothing important." He sat down next to her and pulled her against his chest. "Hey, can I try some of that wine you're testing? You know how much I enjoy a good red."
He felt her laughter first as it bubbled up from her. She twisted around so she could look him in the face, mesmerizing him with her glance.
"Why, Tony, you know that's not wine. It's blood." She patted his cheek and slid her hand down his neck. "I thought I'd tell you after we had breakfast this morning." She leaned forward and licked the tender skin along his jugular vein. "But it shouldn't concern you. I don't drain my lovers." She grinned. "At least, not of their blood."
She blinked and he could move again.
"Why didn't you tell me? Whose blood is it?"
She shrugged. "Nobody that you know. As for why I didn't tell you? Can you just imagine me introducing the topic into the conversation? 'Hi, my name's Melissa. I'm the head chef at Angelo's, I love midnight ferry rides, Venice and oh, yes, I'm a hundred year old vampire. Would you like to go out with me?'" Her laughter this time was tinged with bitterness. "I can just hear what you'd say."
"Yeah? How about, 'Hello, my name is Jay and I'm a werewolf. Wanna be my alpha female?'"
"Were —?"
He nodded. "Wolf."
"But aren't you supposed to be furry?"
"Only at the full of the moon."
She smiled. "Then let's make sure we're together then..."
He nodded. "So we can hunt?"
"So we can hunt."
