Page 156 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

She self-consciously bit her lip. “I’m actually, um, pretty poor—by American standards anyway.”

He frowned, taking in the mismatched furniture and the many eclectic decorations that cluttered the space. He cocked his head at her Salvador Dali reproductions. She supposed it was a far cry from the Amish simplicity he was used to.

Taking his hand, she led him to the sofa. “Why don’t you relax and watch TV while I shower?” She handed him the remote. “If the pizza guy comes, there’s some money in the vase on the counter.”

She snatched some clothes off the pile on the coffee table and dashed into the bedroom. The space felt foreign to her as if it belonged to someone else. Christian was right. She had a lot of crap. But none of it really held any true value in her heart.

Hot water, however, she appreciated very much. The moment she turned on the spigot and steam billowed into the air, she laughed. Who knew plumbing could be such a source of joy?

She gasped at the sight of her hair products. “Hello, my loves!” It had been weeks since she washed her hair with more than oils and lard.

Bathing had never felt like such a luxury.

When the water cooled, she was ready to get out. She wiped away the steam on the mirror and frowned at her reflection. Her skin was regenerating faster now that she was feeding regularly. Every day her tattoos faded a bit more. She wondered how long it would take until they were all gone.

Funny, so many people talked about how regrettable tattoos were. The only regret she held was the sense of loss she felt at seeing them disappear.

Not wanting to get in a dreary mood, she dressed in her favorite cozy gear and went to see what Christian was doing. A closed box of pizza rested in front of him on the coffee table.

“Did you eat?”

He shook his head.

She glanced at the dark television. “Are you okay?”

He looked at her and promised, “I’ll build you a water heater as soon as we return.”

He’d clearly been listening to her thoughts while she bathed. She must have sounded like an absolute fool making such a fuss over such a simple amenity as hot water.

“That’s very sweet, Christian, and I’m not going to turn your offer down.” She dropped beside him on the sofa. “But don’t stress over that stuff. I love you. With or without a self-heating shower.” When he met her stare, she mumbled out of the corner of her mouth, “A little more with than without, but still, I love you either way.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Let’s eat.”

Opening the box, she handed him a slice. Popping the string of cheese that fell into a warm blob onto the paper into her mouth, she hummed, “So good.” She missed pizza.

Christian took a small bite. His brows rose as he chewed. “It is good.”

“Yeah, this place is better than the one I used to order from.”

“What did you say it was?”

She stilled. “Christian, it’s pizza. Haven’t you ever had pizza before?”

He shook his head and took another bite. “It’s abbeditlich.”

“Abbeditlich?”

“Appetizing.”

“Oh. Right.” She finished her slice and tossed the crust in the box, grabbing another piece. “Will you teach me Pennsylvania Dutch?”

“I’ll teach you anything you want to learn.” He looked at her abandoned crust. “You don’t eat that part?”

She shrugged. “You can, but the cheesy part’s better.”

He took a bite of his crust, chewed it, then tossed it in the box next to hers.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” She glanced at the television wondering if he had a hard time navigating the remote. “We could watch Dracula.”

His mouth tightened. “Dracula is fiction.”

She laughed. “We can critique it. Or we could watch Witness. You might like that.”

“What is Witness?”

“A movie about people hiding from criminals on an Amish farm.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never watched a television.”

“Ever?”

“No.”

“Oh, my gosh! Do you have any idea how much good stuff you’ve missed? The Office, Stranger Things, Survivor, Sopranos, Keeping Up With The Kardashians!” She nestled close to him and got comfortable. “Finally, I get to pop one of your cherries.”

Lifting the remote, she turned on the TV and went straight to the menu of streaming channels. Christian sat stiffly as he worked his way around the pizza.

“Christian, you can sit back, you know. It’s a sofa, not an electric chair.” He looked at how she was sitting and scooted back.

She wanted to give him the full ‘English’ experience.

“This is what’s called reality TV. People apply to be on a show, and they live in a house where cameras follow them around non-stop. There’s no privacy and plenty of drama.”

“Do they not feel violated?”

She shrugged. “They sign up for it. Watch. This is a good one. Those two fight.”

He frowned. “You’ve watched this before.”