“We only have the regular stuff here so don’t go asking for a bloody peppermint lemon explosion or whatever it is people drink these days.”
“Normal tea is fine,” I tell him.
He eyes me. “Calm down, will you. He’s not gonna go near you as long as you don’t go near him. It’s the mini dogs you need to beware of, they’re the vicious ones.”
“I think I’ll keep my distance all the same.”
Finn tuts and goes about making the tea. When he’s finished he carries the two cups alongside a plate of biscuits into the living room next door. Strangely hospitable for a vampire slayer. The furnishings are old but homely and I sit down on the cream and brown couch, shirking my coat off.
Finn watches me as he stirs a spoonful of sugar into his cup. “You’ve got good skin,” he comments, eyes fixed on my bare arms, I regret having decided to wear this slinky little silk top this morning. Who knows when I’ll next get the chance to go home and change.
I cough. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Finn replies, taking a sip of tea, blowing away the steam.
“Right.” I say, suddenly extra self-conscious.
Wolf plods into the room and sits down in front of the fire place. I pick up my tea and take a big long gulp, it burns as it goes down. I think of my little grubby apartment and begin to panic, since the rent is due next week and I’ve just walked out of my job. Oh God. Why do I have to be so spontaneous? So easily provoked into anger?
“So,” I begin. “How did you get into the slaying business, Finn?” I smile, and pick up a biscuit from the plate sitting on the coffee table.
“Is that your idea of small talk?” he smirks.
I shrug. “Well, what do you suggest we talk about, I mean, exactly how long am I going to be stuck here? We have to do something to pass the time.”
“Come upstairs with me then, I know a couple fun things we could do,” says Finn, a suggestive smile on his lips.
“I thought you didn’t like Goth chicks?” I retort, suppressing certain long untended to urges.
“I don’t,” he replies. “But get you out of those clothes and I might be able to overlook that.”
“Fuck you.” I slam my cup down on the table, grab my coat and make to leave. Finn catches me at the door, pulls the coat out of my grip and throws it back onto the couch. One hand holding onto my wrist the other slammed into the curve of my shoulder. This close I can smell him, clean and healthy and – Jesus, I really need to control myself.
I look up into his eyes. “Let go of me,” I tell him through gritted teeth.
His eyelids lower. “Your skin,” he says in a quiet voice. The hand on my shoulder loosens, he rubs a thumb gently over the flesh there. I suppress a shudder.
“You really need to get a hold on this fetish of yours,” I spit. “Because this is the second time you’ve mentioned my skin, and it’s beginning to creep me out.”
Finn shakes himself. “No, fuck, it’s not a fetish it’s just,” he looks down at the hand that’s holding tightly onto my wrist. “Well, yeah, I’ve got a thing for soft skin, and yours, it’s beautiful.”
I swallow, and his eyes are glued to my neck. “Let go of me Finn,” I tell him again in a firm voice.
He bites his lip and then releases me. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you. Please sit down and finish your t
ea.”
“It’s probably gone cold by now,” I reply, but sit down nonetheless.
“I’ll make us another then,” says Finn, before picking up our cups and going out to the kitchen to put the kettle on again, probably an excuse to avoid the awkward tension. I stand up and go over to look at the pictures on the mantelpiece. There’s one hanging above on the wall, like a class photo except all of the men and women are wearing strange black uniforms. Slayer uniforms, I realise. What am I looking at, some kind of killer’s graduation ceremony? Jesus.
On the mantel is a picture in a dark wood frame of Finn grinning into the camera with an older man beside him, they look like they’re at a barbecue. Perhaps the older guy is that friend he mentioned who owns this house, Noel. Quite the silver fox if I do say so myself. Like a mix between Jeremy Irons and Pierce Brosnan.
Pity he’s a head honcho with the DOH, I can tell his job is pretty important since his black uniform has two red stripes on the left arm and several medals over the breast. Those sorts of distinctions are usually worn to say, Hi there, I’ve done a lot of good things for my country, if you’re in the army. I suppose with the slayers it says, Hey, look how many evil creatures of the night I’ve slaughtered in the name of protecting the human race.
I jump when I hear a cup clink down onto the coffee table. Finn is one of those silent movers, I didn’t even hear him step back inside. That kind of talent probably comes in handy in his line of work. I turn around and dust myself down, despite being free of any dust.
“Is that Noel?” I ask, pointing at the picture I’d been looking at.