“I hardly think that’s true.” I raised an eyebrow at him, causing him to laugh, but he just shook his head and went into the house.
Matilda was already waiting at the door for him. He just gave her a quick scratch and kept on walking, so she followed at his heels.
“Mae, I’m back!” Jack announced, going into the kitchen.
“I’m just doing some laundry!” Mae shouted from down the hall by her bedroom.
“I hate it when you guys are mundane.” I wrinkled my nose. “Vampires are supposed to be big and powerful and sexy and dangerous.”
“And buy a new outfit everyday?” Jack crouched down so he could give Matilda the attention she was dying for, and I leaned back against the counter. “That doesn’t really seem practical.”
“Exactly! Vampires aren’t supposed to be practical! You’re supernatural beings with magical powers! You don’t do laundry or play video games! You jump off cliffs and have sex with really attractive women!”
“I get it,” Jack laughed. “I had this notion about what a vampire should be, but it was all based on glamorized Hollywood ideals. Nothing could be sexy and cool all the time, especially not something that’s immortal. Do you know how exhausting and expensive it would be to wear designer gowns and crowned jewels everyday for six hundred years?
“And what would be the point? Who would I be trying to impress? I’m a damn vampire! I’m not gonna put on black eyeliner and grow my hair long just so some stupid humans think I’m sexy. They think I am anyway.” He winked exaggeratedly at me, so I laughed and started walking away.
“Where are these alleged millions of movies anyway?” I headed towards the living room, even though I hadn’t seen a single movie in there.
“Most of them are in my room.” He stopped me at the stairs and nodded up to his room. “This might surprise you, but I’m the movie buff in the family. Well, Mae is a little bit, but she only likes things with Ginger Rogers and Cary Grant.” He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes, she really does act like she’s eighty-years-old.”
“I heard that!” Mae was walking towards us with a laundry basket overflowing with clothes, and she thrust them at Jack. “These are yours, by the way. You had a pair of tan Dickies that were covered in blood and I couldn’t get it out.”
“That must be from when I went to the club.” He sifted through the basket of clothes absently, but my eyes widened.
It was one thing to know that he drank blood. It was a different thing entirely to know that he’d ruined clothes by drinking blood from a human being.
“Sometimes Jack goes down to the vampire club on Hennepin Ave.” Mae had noticed the shocked look on my face, so she tried to explain. “A lot of the girls down there are donors, and the ones that aren’t don’t mind. But sometimes when you hit an artery, things can get a little messy.”
“But if you hit an artery, don’t they die?” I must’ve continued looking freaked out, because Jack started getting frustrated. He shifted the basket to his other arm and shook his head.
“Our saliva has chemicals in it. Like mosquitoes and vampire bats have anesthetic in theirs. We have that, plus more to make the wound heal fast. The marks are usually completely gone within an hour or two of the bite.” He grew bored with the conversation, so he turned and jogged up the stairs. “Come on, Alice, if you want a say in what we watch.”
“I’d go with him, or he’s liable to make you watch The Lost Boys,” Mae warned me.
“Hey, it’s a good movie!” Jack shouted, and I was inclined to agree.
Just the same, I’d rather watch something a little less blood sucking. The whole point of the night was to not think about all the weird stuff going on.
I hurried up the stairs after him and fought the urge to go into Peter’s room. Even standing in the hall, I could smell that tangy, sweet aroma that Peter left behind, but I quickly pushed it out of mind before my heart would beat all funny.
“I’m just gonna put these away real quick,” Jack informed me when I came into his room. “I wouldn’t want my vampire image to be spoiled by wrinkled clothes.”
The door was open to his massive walk-in closet, and he had started hanging up some of his shirts. I walked over to peer inside, and I wasn’t surprised to find that his wardrobe consisted almost entirely of tee shirts, Dickies, and various shades of Converse.
“You have a billion dollars, and you have the wardrobe of a twelve-year-old.”
“Yeah, well, I have the emotional maturity of a twelve-year-old too, so-” He stuck his tongue out at me and then went back to hanging up his clothes.
“You showed me.” I rolled my eyes and went over to flop down on his over-stuffed bed.
It was completely unmade, but it had to be the most comfortable thing I had ever laid on. The sheets were probably Egyptian with a ten million thread count. Not that I knew what any of that meant, but I know it made things more comfortable for some reason. My sheets came from Target, though, and I slept just fine on them.
“I’m glad you like my bed.” He had finished hanging his things up and walked out into his room. “I would’ve made it if I’d known you’d be rolling around in it.”
“I’m not rolling around,” I muttered, but I sat up so I wouldn’t be tempted to.
I looked around his room. There were a few posters on his dark blue walls (one of which was a tour poster from the Cure playing at First Ave on July 12, 1984, and I wondered if he had actually been there). Underneath his massive flat screen TV, there was lots of gaming equipment strewn about a slick black entertainment center, but I didn’t see any movies.