Page 1 of Vampire so Virtuous (Boston Vampires #1)

Boston, Massachusetts, Present day.

Cally straightened her blouse, checked her hair in the restaurant window’s reflection, and swallowed a sigh.

He’d chosen an Italian place close to where she lived in Allston—not her favorite, thankfully—one she’d visited only twice before.

It aimed for warmth with wooden tables and exposed brick walls, and maybe the soft pendant lamps were meant to suggest intimacy, but the open kitchen was loud and lively, full of Italian gesticulation.

The combination was unintentionally farcical.

Going for charm, landing somewhere between cozy and chaotic.

Neither here nor there, with a touch of missed opportunity.

Hopefully not an omen for this evening.

Most of the patrons were couples, and only one man sat alone at the bar.

He roughly matched Lily’s gushing yet somehow generic description.

Not quite as trim as she’d implied, and older.

He wore a dark blue suit over a crisp white shirt open at the neck.

An immaculate goatee, short brown hair, and highly polished shoes completed a look that straddled the line between self-care and self-adoration.

I never should have agreed to this.

But Lily had insisted she ‘knew the perfect guy’ who would go ‘crazy for you.’ Eve had been encouraging in her usual over-the-top way, urging Cally to move on and meet someone new.

Cally was tempted to turn and leave before he noticed her, but then he looked up. Just like that, escape was no longer an option. His eyes narrowed, his head cocked to one side as he took her in, the edge of his lips curling slightly.

This had better be him, and not some random married man whose wife is about to return from the bathroom.

She steeled herself and made her way over, forcing a pleasant expression. “Hey. Forgive me for intruding, but are you Stefan?”

“Cally,” he said by way of confirmation, rising from his seat, expression carefully neutral. “Nice to meet you. ”

His hand pressed against the small of her back, guiding her smoothly to the seat next to his. Cally hesitated at the touch, then took her seat mostly to escape it, reminding herself to give him a chance.

“A glass of white wine for the lady,” Stefan told the bartender without taking his eyes off her.

Cally turned to the bartender. “Actually, I’d like a glass of your house red, please.”

Stefan made no comment; instead, a faint smirk pulled at his lips, and he toyed with the stem of his wine glass. “This is the part where we pretend to be nervous and awkward.”

“Not much pretense here.” Awkward, not nervous.

He raised his glass as the bartender set hers down. “Well, if we’re going to do this, might as well enjoy it, right?”

“Right.” Could try, anyway.

They clinked glasses, and she took a sip. The wine was bold and heavy, a little dry.

“I’m sorry about Lily,” he said, setting his glass down once more. “She can be… persuasive.” He spoke gently, addressing the bar top more than her, with an uneasy air that reflected this whole ridiculous encounter. Maybe he was the nervous one.

Cally didn’t know Lily well enough to comment; she was more Eve’s friend than hers. “At the very least, perhaps we can have a nice evening, then dutifully report back that we didn’t quite hit it off, and put this embarrassment behind us.”

Stefan made a wry face. “With such a low bar, we might even surprise ourselves.”

She gave him a smile as a waiter appeared to escort them to their table. Once again, Stefan laid his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the restaurant, and her smile faded. It wasn’t as if there were spike traps and flaming pits she would be unable to avoid herself.

The table was tucked in a quiet corner, and Stefan pulled out her chair for her before settling into his own.

She would’ve preferred the one against the wall, but after the irksome wine incident, it wasn’t worth the effort.

Silence fell as they read the menu. As usual in an Italian place, there were plenty of good options.

“I assume you like Italian,” Stefan commented, not looking up from his menu.

Good time to ask. “I do. Luckily.”

“Well, quite.” He seemed to have missed the dry irony in her response. He paused, studying her as if considering something. “I’m glad you agreed to meet. I’m not the biggest fan of these setups, but on this occasion, I’ll give Lily her due. You seem… different from the usual blind date type.”

Cally blinked. He could tell after one minute?

“Different how?”

“You’re not putting on a facade,” Stefan said, leaning back slightly. “It’s refreshing.”

Cally masked her reaction with another sip of wine. It was safer to shift the focus back on him. “That suggests you’ve had some awful experiences.”

“In truth, I hate first dates. Finding someone is exhausting, isn’t it?”

“Better than arranged marriages.”

“Sometimes I wonder.” He stared at her for a second too long. “Are you ready to order?”

“Sure.”

Stefan waved the waiter over and gestured for her to go first.

“The burrata and the cauliflower risotto, please.”

“I’ll take the filetto di manzo,” Stefan said, “and the carpaccio di manzo to start. And we’ll take a bottle of the chianti riserva.”

“A sparkling water, please,” Cally said firmly.

“Sure, no problem.” The waiter made a note and left them to it.

Stefan leaned back in his chair, twirling the stem of his wineglass. “I had you pegged for a steak and salad.”

“I don’t eat meat.”

“Ah,” Stefan said, lips twitching. “Okay, here’s one. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?”

That was an easy answer. “One where the guy spent the entire meal talking about his investment portfolio.”

He gave a mock-wince. “I do work in finance. For a venture capital firm.”

“Are you itching to tell me about your investment portfolio?”

“Well,” he said, hesitating as though disappointed. “I could keep it brief.”

Was he serious? “Maybe later.”

The drinks and starters arrived swiftly, both cold dishes, and she was grateful for the timing. They ate their first bites in an uneasy hush.

“So,” he said, drawing the word out a little, “what’s your story?” He took her in with a flick of his hand. “A beautiful girl, still single. You don’t strike me as the ‘I’m-too-busy-for-a-man’ type.”

He said it lightly, but Cally felt her prickle of unease grow. “Never found the right guy, I suppose.”

“I can’t imagine you’d go for someone who doesn’t get you.”

“I’m sure you’d be surprised.”

“Not really.” He leaned in, one arm resting loosely on the table. “You’re sharp. I like it. But a little closed off, if you don’t mind me saying. It’s a shame.”

Given it was obviously a line, it stung more than it should. “Uh-huh?”

“Yeah. You don’t have to be that way. Not with me.” His hand slid across the table, fingers lightly brushing the edge of hers. “You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

She pulled her hand back enough to break the contact. Not interested.

“I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

Stefan didn’t seem to take offense. “I think I know exactly what you need.”

Silence hung too long in the air, the kind begging her to say something—anything—to fill the space. Cally wasn’t sure which she felt more: the pressure of his eyes on her or the unavoidable realization this evening was a total loss.

Give him enough rope…

“What’s that then?”

“Someone you can look up to,” Stefan said, full of his own conceit. “A strong woman like you needs an alpha like me.”

She blinked twice, then went with it. “Oh! You’re an alpha ?”

His smug pride was evident. “That’s what they tell me.”

“Oh indeed.” Would it be too much to flutter my eyelashes? “Assertive, confident, the leader of the group?”

“Exactly. Dominant and capable. A provider.” His gaze flicked down to her lips and then back to her eyes. “Well-paid, too.”

“So fascinating . You must have your pick of women.”

He gave a little self-deprecating chuckle with all the sincerity of a celebrity apology video. “So what do you do for work?”

“I.T.,” she said shortly, not wanting to discuss work—or him—anymore. She couldn’t help but look toward the restaurant staff near the bar.

“No work talk, huh?”

“I like to avoid a first date sounding like a job interview.” There won’t be a second.

“Fair enough. Outside of work, then?”

She was tempted to tell him, just to see his face. My friend Eve keeps dragging me along to a coven of urban witches. Instead, it was an opportunity too good to pass up. “I stay pretty active. Like to keep fit.”

“I can see that about you. Running? Gym?”

“Taekwondo.” She watched him closely for his reaction.

Stefan picked up his wineglass and leaned back in his chair. “Really?” He swirled the ruby liquid, then took a sip. “A recent hobby?”

“Since I was seventeen.” She added for emphasis, “Nine years.”

“Uh-huh.” He paused. “Are you any good?”

“I can hold my own.”

“It’s not a real martial art, is it?” he said offhandedly. “More a sport.”

That was enough. She caught the eye of a waiter, and made a writing-on-her-hand gesture.

Stefan noticed, briefly eyeing her half-eaten burrata. “Are you done?”

“Hungry for something else.” She gazed at him demurely. “Where’s your place?”

He looked taken aback, then eased into a practiced charm. “I like a woman who knows what she wants, and isn’t afraid to take it.” His eyes hooded in an attempt at steamy allure. “I have an apartment in Back Bay.”

“Lovely,” she cooed. “What’s the address?”

“Don’t worry,” he said smoothly. “I won’t let you out of my sight.”

“Oh do tell,” she insisted, batting her eyes at him. “I really like that area.”

“It’s on Fairfax Street.”

“Lovely,” she repeated, dialing up the faux-girlish charm, “What number?”

He smirked. “34A, since you’re so keen to know.”

The waiter arrived with the bill, looking uncomfortable. “Was everything to your satisfaction?”

“Everything except the company, thank you,” Cally said coolly, dropping the act. “I’ll pay half.”

Stefan’s expression had hardened, his lips curling into a snarl. “Bitch.”

She waved her phone over the payment device the waiter presented and gave him a far warmer smile than any Stefan had earned. “Thank you so much.”

Then Cally pushed back her chair and rose, grateful she wasn’t against the wall after all.

She didn’t bother to hide her disdain. “Now I know where you live, Stefan. Stay away from me, and stay the hell away from Lily. If I ever hear her mention your name, I’ll be sure to give you a personal demonstration of how ‘sporty’ taekwondo can be. ”

“No wonder you’re alone,” he spat back at her. “Women like you are all the same, thinking you’re better than men.” He laughed scornfully. “You’re probably a dyke.”

“Enjoy the rest of your wine.” It was tempting to pour it over him, but he wasn’t worth the effort.

The waiter made a point of escorting her to the door and opening it for her, the small act ensuring Stefan would leave no tip. She gave him a last smile, and stepped into the clean chill of September air.

It wasn’t a long walk home. Down Harvard Avenue, past the dojang where she trained, then a cut-through to drop her back at her apartment in under ten minutes.

Eve would be disappointed for her. Lily’s judgement had received one hell of a black mark against it, and maybe a warning about pick-up artists.

First time in God knows how long I agree to a date, and that’s what I get.

So done with them all.

But there was a hint of relief. If Stefan hadn’t been so blatant, she might not have seen his true colors until the second date, or the third, or—God help her—after she’d slept with him.

Eight months since Rob walked away, and I’m still wondering what part of me was too much.

At the time, she hadn’t bought the ‘you don’t open up enough’ excuse, then Stefan had gone and leveled the same accusation at her.

It had to be a coincidence. Just a line. No way Stefan could tell so quickly, right?

She crossed the road. Joon would be taking a class; it was tempting to go and watch, but Stefan had managed to temporarily drain her enthusiasm for people. Instead, she walked past, between the shops and across the parking lot, into the alleys that would bring her home in five minutes.

It was usually quiet here, but not tonight. A large man staggered ahead, veering across the alley as if drunk. His steps were too stiff, like his limbs didn’t quite belong to him.

Cally slowed in irritation, keeping her distance.

The usual background noise had dropped away. No traffic hum, no beeping crossings, not even the faint rattle of the T. Everything behind her felt hushed and heavy, as if the air had thickened.

Farther down, a single streetlight cast a dull pool of amber. The rest of the alley lay in shadow, broken only by the occasional glint of glass or metal.

Some sixth sense prickled at the back of her mind. The air felt wrong, too still, like it was holding its breath. She looked back over her shoulder.

Nothing there .

Would Stefan have followed her? Was he that petty? Had she misread how… committed he was to spending the evening with her?

Part of her almost wanted him to try.

Her heart thudded at the thought, but the alley behind her remained empty, the parking lot beyond still quiet.

Just being paranoid.

Footsteps echoed through the alley as the man stumbled his way out, finally rounding the corner. With relief, Cally quickened her pace.

Home soon enough.