So Im Not A Vampire Ch 04

Hey Everyone,

So this is the completely edited version of

So, I'm Not a Vampire?

Thank you searchingforperfection for helping me edit the entire So I'm Not a Vampire? novellette. All future stories I post on Lit are stories that will not be published. If you have questions, concerns, or just want to say hi, feel free to message me.

-Rosi

***

Chapter Four: I Know I Am But What Are You

I had a tick in my leg. It was probably because I'd been bouncing my leg up and down for the last few minutes in irritation. I think I had a charley horse, too, because the sucker hurt; but it didn't look like it was going to get any better unless Bane finally started speaking.

For over a freaking hour, we'd been sitting in a cute restaurant that reeked of delicious foods I couldn't eat anymore. It wasn't anywhere near my university, or even near our hotel. After I'd showered and dressed, Bane had declared that we were leaving—didn't take a genius to know that. Except the man hadn't just meant going out to Starbucks, or even a nearby diner. Oh no, he meant out of state. I'd climbed in the passenger side of his sports car, run my hand reverently over the glossy black interior, and then we'd sped off. For a guy who claimed I wasn't a vampire, he took a lot of liberties with my life in that five-hour car ride. I mean, a

lot

, considering it would take a normal, smart person nine hours to drive from Burlington, Vermont to Washington, D.C.

A few cops even pulled us over and told Bane he was going well over one hundred miles per hour.

Well over

. What did that even mean? I didn't ask, because, well, I'd just been happy that we'd stopped and I wasn't in crash position. It was no wonder I'd thought I was going to die as he twisted and curved around the mountainsides.

Of course, instead of getting a ticket or getting arrested, Bane just told the cop that we were going the speed limit and that the officer just needed to get back in his car and leave. And guess what the cop did? He freaking left. Got in his little paddy wagon and sedately rumbled on down the road while Bane sped off at the same speed, a smirk on his lips.

This happened too many times for me to count.

So, after a few hours of death-defying driving, now we were in D.C., seated at a place called Le Pain Quotidien near the Eastern Market Metro. He had a glass of red wine in front of him, there was a delicious smelling bread basket between us, and my leg was shaking the table.

Bane looked over the rim of his wine glass at me and raised a brow. "Something wrong?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. "Really? That's your first question?" I tapped my chin and looked around the deserted restaurant, with its turned-over chairs and two blank-faced waiters standing in a corner.

"Hmm, I don't know, Bane. Maybe it's the fact that it's three hours past closing, you're forcing those poor waiters to stay here, and you took a

hellavalotta

liberty with my life today."

Bane put the glass down and regarded me curiously. "I don't really see a problem,

habibi

."

My knee hit the table and pain flashed through me. "Shit!" The guy was going to drive me into an early grave with his bullshit mysterious ways.

"Careful there."

I snapped my eyes up to his and noticed a subtle shift in his irises. It wasn't like his eyes glowed green or gold or anything, but red flakes did meld with the brown in a sort of paint-bleeding-onto-a-canvas type of way.

"It means I'm hungry." His smile was predatory at best, and I swear his eyes lingered on my neck. "They'll turn completely red when I'm at the end of my rope."

I waved to the waiters still standing like statues in the corner. "There's dinner. I'm not on the menu."

Hey, I wasn't about to become meat for a hungry vamp. Selfish I may be, but stupid I was not.

He threw his head back and laughed, the sort of laugh that made me think all naughty types of thoughts that I knew he could hear. Damn his mind reading! I'd need to wear one of those foil hats.

"Won't help."

I sighed and reached for a piece of bread, too hungry to go back to sucking the red off candy. "Can we get on with it? You said you'd tell me what I am. So, tell me."

I jammed the piece of bread in my mouth and paused when the flavors hit my tongue. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't eaten in more than twenty-four hours, but the bread was practically orgasmic.

He picked up his wine and downed it in one fluid gulp. "That's not what I said, Peaches."

I paused mid-reach for another piece of bread and some sort of nut butter. My voice dropped so low I sounded like a dude. "What do you mean?"

"Simply?" He beckoned one of the waiters over with his finger and asked for a to-go bag for the bread, and whatever they could whip up in the kitchen for me. My knee started jumping again before he turned back around. "I have no clue what you are. You are a mystery."

That was it.

I slid my chair back, hard wood scraping against wood, and started to pace the length of the restaurant. If it kept on this way, I was gonna be so skinny because of all my damn pacing. "Are you telling me"—my voice could've frozen Hell over—"that I just let you drive me to another state in the middle of the night when I could have died! And you don't even know what I am?"

"I know what you aren't."

See, Bane was one of those talk softly, hold a big stick kind of guys. He didn't talk a lot, but if he did, it was usually to make fun of me, order me around, or make a point. Yup, less than twenty-four hours with the man and I had figured him out.

I batted my eyelashes at him and smiled sweetly. "So, I'm not a vampire? Is that right?"

He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. The move was both relaxed and intimidating, but it only made me think of those flexing, hot muscled arms roving over my—

Damn! I corralled my wayward thoughts and stuffed them into the deep, dark recesses of my mind where fourth grade bullies and failed sleepovers wandered. Bane smiled at me like he knew where I'd just hidden my dirty thoughts, and he was prying them open.

"Yes,

habibi

. That's right."

At that moment the zombie wait staff came back with a large brown bag that smelled delicious and no check. I raised an eyebrow at Bane. "You're going to pay."

He raised a brow and then slapped down a few bills that looked curiously like Monopoly money. It took me a second to realize the blue bills were real and all hundreds. Nice.

Bane shuffled me out of the restaurant with a hand at the small of my back and my doggie—more like grocery—bag of food in his other hand. The minute I was back in the car, I buckled in before my door even closed.

Bane rounded the car with a burst of inhuman speed and was buckled in the seat with his hand on the wheel and the car in drive before I could blink. "Copying

Twilight,

are ya?"

He shrugged a shoulder as we went from zero to sixty in half a second, then started to swerve in and out of traffic. I was in crash position for the entire fifteen minutes it took us to get to the hotel.

"You can relax now." Bane hid his obvious laugh behind a cough. "We've arrived."

"Uh," I began as I carefully unlocked my muscles and climbed out of the car onto the sidewalk. I stared up at the Four Seasons hotel in front of me, then glanced around the area. There was a bridge to my left, a small old looking gas station slightly behind me, and a collage of restaurants to my right. I stared down the street and rolled my eyes. "I'm guessing choosing a hotel right across the street from another Le Pain Quotidien wasn't just a coincidence?"

Bane threw me a killer smile over his shoulder as he passed off his keys to the waiting valet, then grabbed my food bag and moved to the trunk. "They make their breads first thing in the morning and the smell is to die for."

I watched him pull out two duffel bags, and I tried to help but he staunchly refused. He gave me the sort of look that said he'd die before he let a woman carry anything heavy. Maybe it was his era, whichever one that was, but there was something to be said about a guy carrying a woman's bag and opening a door for her. That being: holy fucking hell, that's hot.

Maybe it's just me, but there is nothing like a man with manners to really make a girl's panties hit the floor. Rob wasn't the most gentlemanly guy, but then again, he wasn't a lot of things. He wasn't honest, he wasn't super hot, and he wasn't straight. I swear that some divine being was playing a cosmic trick on me because the first guy in freaking forever to be hot and have manners (albeit a little bit of a racer behind the wheel) also happened to be a vampire. A girl just couldn't catch a break!

"Come on, Peaches," Bane called out from the doorway. I didn't realize I'd been standing in the driveway dealing with my own thoughts until his deep voice hit me. Man, there was something seriously wrong with me.

I hustled inside the building, muttering a thank you to Bane as he held the door wide. A few minutes later, we had a room key for yet another overly expensive suite, and I was diving into downy soft sheets and goose feather pillows. Luxury was so luxurious.

Then reality intruded again, reminding me that nothing had been resolved. I mean, in Burlington I had an apartment, family, friends, and a job. What would happen to all of that now? Who would cover the lease? And how long had I been dead anyway? Was it a day? A week? Ah! Too many questions.

I was about to start pulling my hair out when Bane called out from the other room, "Peaches. Come here."

Again, I'm a dog. Just get me a tail and a pair of ears and plant me on all fours. "That could be arranged,

habibi.

"

Every single time. I'm not sure why I wasn't used to the whole mind reading thing by now. Almost twenty-four hours with the vampire was plenty of time to get used to him picking out whatever he wanted. I just barely stopped myself from stomping my feet and jutting out my lower lips as I entered his bedroom.

"What do you want?" I eyed him cautiously. His back was turned to me, but with a ripple of muscle he stepped aside and waved his arms.

"You want answers? So do I."

I looked at the assortment of objects on the bed: a wreath of garlic, a wooden stake, the whole shebang. My face dropped, I cocked my hip, and suddenly adopted a cockney accent. "Oy, what's all this, then?"

BBC America, my pride and joy. My mom used to hate when I watched it because hours after the shows ended I was still talking in a British accent. She said I sounded stupid. I think I sounded bloody brilliant.

Bane's lips twisted. "Your mom was right."

"Will you stop reading my mind?" I practically screamed at him, throwing my arms out. "Not only is it rude, but it's also an invasion of my privacy!"

He just barely stifled his laugh, dark brown eyes raking over my form like he wanted to do all kinds of naughty things. "Are you ready to start?"

I approached the bed with all the bravado I could muster. "I was born ready."