The restaurant was busy. Not busy enough for serving team to be frantic, but busy enough to maintain a constant hum of vague conversation and the clinking of cutlery on porcelain.

Valeria –the raven-haired woman in the little black dress and red heels at table thirty-four – was bored. She had only agreed to come on this thrice-cursed date because she was bored. Not that she’d admit it to anyone, but she missed the courting scene. Unfortunately courting had changed a great deal since the 1650’s.

As is the case with most solitary, long-lived people, she wished she’d cancelled and stayed home in her bathrobe to mope about the state of modern men with a box of popsicles, ketchup potato chips, and Spanish soap operas. Besides, going out only brought her closer to succumbing to her one, insatiable craving. She inhaled deeply; the smell of so much fresh blood, the pressure of so many pulses just out of reach, was maddening

She eyed her date – a man in his early thirties with thick brown curls named Calvin – and wondered what in the 9 circles of hell convinced her to say yes when he asked her out at a bar a week ago. Considering his relative attractiveness and decent grooming, she agreed, excited at the prospect of a man taking the initiative for the first time in months. She’d also just eaten and was in a rare gregarious state and acquiesced to his request for a ‘pleasant evening out’ willingly.

Presently, however, Cal was rambling about sashimi or caviar or something and Valeria was having a hard time paying attention. He had shaved before coming and cut himself on the corner of his jaw. The scab was still there, a dark red dot on his light brown skin. The only thing Valeria could think of was how his collar pressed into the skin of his neck. Oh, how she wanted to run her nails down his throat and back and…

Cal paused and took a drink of the 2010 Napa Merlot they’d split. The lull snapped her out of her daydream. She caught the movement of his hand and glass to his lips, and Valeria didn’t bother trying to not stare at Adam’s apple as it bobbed with each swallow.

What the hell. She was on a date, for Darkness’s sake.

Wrapping a curl of raven-black hair around a finger, mischief glinting in her red-brown eyes, Valeria ran the toe of her stiletto up his leg as he took another sip.

Cal jerked back, spilling wine over his chin and down his neck, barely missing his cerulean-blue tie. Valeria’s tongue flicked absently over her dark red lips, eying the way the Merlot dribbled towards his too-white collar. A little blood on that collar would certainly take his sex appeal to another level.

“Oh! Damn me.” Calvin laughed. Valeria’s heart lurched at the nervousness in his laugh, the way his shoulders tensed. “I can’t be trusted to wear white without getting something on it.”

Forget sex appeal. All this hunk of man flesh was good for was eating. And she was denied even that pleasure by the presence of nosy strangers who would call the cops or do something equally stupid, and she wasn’t in a mood for violence… She was just hungry. She couldn’t help that she had special dietary needs.

Wiping the wine from his chin with a grey napkin, Cal shattered the illusion of a bloody throat. Valeria sat back, arms folded over her stomach, and pouted, running her tongue over the teeth that were slowly sinking back into her gums.

“Have you been here before?” he asked, folding his hands under his chin in another attempt to start a conversation.

“Yeah. Once.” She tapped absently on the tabletop with a sharp, onyx nail. They’d ordered twenty minutes ago, and there was no sign of their skinny waiter and she was getting bored. Well… more bored.

“How was it?” he asked, missing her hint that she wasn’t interested in talking. “When you mentioned you liked nice places, I figured I’d try here since I haven’t been here myself. Does it live up to the reviews?”

She hummed noncommittally, shrugged an exposed shoulder. After a beat, during which Cal rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat twice, he smiled awkwardly and asked her if she knew anything about potato farming. Valeria said no, she didn’t, and had to resist banging her head on the table when Calvin started talking again. It seemed like he was afraid that something interesting would happen if he was quiet for too long.

A moment later something interesting did happen. Valeria sensed something off.  It wasn’t much, hardly more than an increased heart rate. Cal’s heart was beating fast, yes, but that was to be expected. She’s worn this dress for exactly that reason. This was something else. Something with a desperation that made her want to bare her fangs and start ripping throats out.

Turning, aware of how her breasts pressed against the fabric of her dress, Valeria scanned the restaurant. It took her a moment to locate the source, the ambient ebb and flow of blood obscuring the panic, but she soon found the source.

A young woman, maybe 23, was sitting with her arms folded defensively over her chest, glaring at her date. The man wasn’t getting the message and kept reaching across the table for her. Valeria couldn’t hear what he was saying but judging by the girl’s posture and the growing aggression of the man it wasn’t good. As she watched the man, a typical god’s-gift-to-humanity type, grabbed the girl’s wrist, jerking her hand towards him, nails digging into the soft underside of her forearm. The neighboring diners were beginning to notice, yet none of them moved to intervene. Even the waiters skirted around the table, afraid of interrupting something.

Valeria’s eyes narrowed. With a fluid motion she stood, hand resting on her wine glass.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment?” she said, cutting Cal off. “I have some… business to attend to.”

He closed his mouth and sat back in his chair, brushing his hair back from his forehead with a sigh.

“Of course. I’m sorry. I’m boring you. It’s just been so long since…”

 Valeria didn’t hear the rest of his apology as she made her way towards the confrontation, glass in hand. As she approached, she heard the boorish man growling at the girl as she tried to pry his fingers from around her wrist:

“Stop being such a coy little bitch, won’t you? I asked you out because…”

In three more strides Valeria was looming over him, a dangerous smile on her face. He broke off and sneered up at her. The girl’s look of desperate hope was enough of a plea for Valeria.

“What do you want?” the man asked loudly, his voice carrying through the circle of silence that had surrounded their table. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of som…”

He never got to finish. The instant his attention was off the girl Valeria splashed the entire glass of wine on his face and chest, making sure to soak as much of his designer shirt as possible.

“What the fuck, lady!? What sort of psycho bitch are you?”

The people surrounding them gaped. Two waiters stopped and looked at each other, eyes wide.

Valeria bared her teeth in a not-so-pleasant smile.

“You have a little something…” she pointed to the general area of his chest, the red wine soaking into the white fabric. The sight nearly sent her over the edge then and there. She shuddered, quelling her rising bloodlust.

With a snort and mumbled profanities, the man stood and stormed off for the restroom. The girl sat absolutely still, staring after him with round, glossy eyes. Like a rabbit before the…

No… Not her. Valeria though, shaking her head to banish the thought. She rested a hand gently on the girl’s shoulder. The poor thing was quivering uncontrollably.

“You deserve better than him, sweetheart,” Valeria said bluntly, glaring after the man.

The girl blinked up at her. Then her face broke into a wide grin.

“Thank you! You don’t know… oh thank you!” she gushed, standing and gathering her things. She stuffed the entire basket of breadsticks into her purse and downed the rst of her drink in a massive gulp. “He wouldn’t leave me alone and I felt like if…”

“If you said yes, he’d eventually leave you alone. I know.”

“Yeah. But… thank you again…” the girl gave Valeria a brief hug before scurrying away. Then she turned, her doll face contorted in thought.

“But what about the tab? I don’t have enough-”

“Don’t worry, pet. It’ll be taken care of.”

Valeria’s smile was genuine this time.

With another shaky grin, the girl vanished out the doors, her scarf dragging behind her. Valeria ignored the questioning, judgmental gazes of the restaurant’s patrons as she returned to her table, not a hair out of place.

Calvin gaped are her as she poured the rest of the bottle of Merlot into her glass

“What… why… why did you do that?”

She gave him with a pointed look and drank half of the wine before answering.

“Some men are assholes and deserve their own given back to them.”

“I just… that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do,” Cal said, staring at her with awe. Taken off guard by his compliment, Valeria took another sip of her wine. She was spared from saying anything else by the arrival of their meal.

“Fettuccini e Vongole in la Salsa Bianca for the gentleman,” the pretty waitress said, placing a plate of perfectly steamed clams and pasta before the Calvin. “And La Bistecca Fiorentina, extra rare, for the lady.” She gave Valeria an appreciative nod before bustling off.

Cal began eating immediately, though his gaze was fixed on Valeria, a new appreciation shining in his brown eyes. Valeria poked at her steak. The plate was covered in warm blood, pepper floating on the surface. The meat itself was brown on the outside and hot all the way through, the middle a dark red, perfectly rare. She sighed: just a little too done for her taste.

Alright. Who was she kidding? Her steak was a lot too done. Raw would have been preferable, but she knew all she’d have received were skeptical eyebrows, a promise to ‘see what we can do,’ and a steak cooked beyond palatability.

How she missed the days when the word vampire struck terror into the hearts of mortals. How any fool who dared wander into her lands was up for grabs, and fresh blood was as common as blackened gum smears on the sidewalks were today.

She finished her wine. At least that was still more or less the same.

One day. One day she was going to treat herself.

But not today. The humans were enjoying themselves too much for her to ruin their evening with a blood bath. They were so sensitive these days.

Oh well. A partially rare steak would have to do for now.

And maybe… Valeria looked at Cal, considering him in a new light. It wasn’t common for a man to commend her brashness and fuck all attitude. Perhaps chivalry wasn’t dead after all.

She grinned at him and took a bite of her stake, fighting the shudder as the burned meat stuck in her throat. Cal returned the grin before flipping oil on his shirt.

“Oh, fuck me,” he groaned. He dabbed at the spot, succeeding only in making it worse. Valeria laughed at his sheepish expression, mind wandering back to a dark corner.

Just maybe the night would have a happy ending after all.