"So have you ever killed anyone?" She asked. Her curiosity was pretty much the only thing that kept this conversation, a conversation.
"No. Though, I'm pretty sure Emily told you about what happened back at the camp a few years ago."
"Yeah. She said you left a pretty noticeable bruise on her."
Guilt plagued my system. "I never did apologize." I said, like I'd forgotten to pick something up from the store. But, I guess the attempted murder on me, and the fact that I hadn't killed her back in that shack, was enough for me to not feel so bad.
"Don't worry, she isn't angry at you any more." Angela reassured me. "Not since her dad died last year."
I stopped dead. "He died?"
"Yeah!" She said, as if this was something I was supposed to know. "That's why she lives down here."
Huh...
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"My house is just down here." She said, heading to the other side of the levee. She stopped when I grabbed her arm. A jolt of lust ran through me, and it conjured a ton of images that I really didn't want her seeing.
"Wait." I said, trying to flood them out.
She waited until I was calm again, and I asked her something that's been on my mind ever since we met.
"That day Emily brought you over ..." I couldn't get the words right. But still, I forged through, hoping it would make sense to her. "That look you kept giving me..."
She frowned a little.
"Emily was just trying to get us together, and I wasn't about to start dating some nancy boy."
"Nancy boy?" I asked.
"Oh no! No, it was how you were dressed and how you acted. It was before I found out what you were." She said, redeeming herself... as if she had too.
I laughed a little at how quick she was to correct herself. Then the thought arose. "What about now?" I asked.
She didn't say anything for a few seconds. Though, she did stare up at me. Those perfect eyes, watching, instead of words, she just walked up to me, kissed me on the lips, and pulled away slowly. Her soft lips, were just as I'd imagined. Heaven in human form.
I was left breathless as she stared into my eyes. She felt the lust, the passion burning inside, and she smiled as I fought to control it.
"Come on, my mom can probably make you something to help even you out."
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Their house was beautiful. Bright blue walls that ran along the inside of their large living room and intertwined into a red striped pattern in the kitchen. Their soft carpet looked new and almost unused. And as Angela motioned for me to take off my shoes, and I did so without question. The sounds of an abandoned television fought against the sounds of pots and pans clanking together. The smell of hamburger helper (Stroganov) hung in the air like smoke from a delicious fire.
"Welcome home Hun!" Angela's mom greeted from behind the kitchen island. Obviously hunting down the top for the pot on the stove top. I could tell just by the smell that it was time to simmer.
"Hi, mom! I brought home that boy I told you about." She replied, gaining her mothers attention.
"Oh, so you're Michael!" She said smiling, her hand extended. I shook it, and nodded. "Angela's told me so much about you."
Oh, god I hope not!
"Now don't say that, I've helped werewolves before," She said nonchalantly, surprising me thoroughly. "And I've always been glad to do it."
Now Angela's mom, was pretty tall, almost my height, and I now stood at six feet, two inches. She shared that long dark hair, except hers hung down to her waist, as if she'd never cut it before. She wore a pair of dungaree's that accented her brown jacket and white shirt.
As she made her way around the kitchen, she pulled out a small jar, shaped like a vial, and handed it to me. Ground up inside, was something light blue, and rotting.
"What's this?" I asked, rolling it around in my palm, trying to get a better look at it. It looked like light blue, plant-like mush.
"Wolfsbane." She said. "Just burn a little in your room before bed. That should work wonders for you!" She said.
"I don't mean to cut you off, but your hamburger is burning a little." I said, when given the chance.
She thanked me as she ran over too it, turning down the heat and turning back around. "I'll never understand how your kind can take all the scents around you and sort them out like that." She said in wonderment. "When I was pregnant with Angela, I couldn't tell what I was smelling!" She said laughing.
Angela grabbed my arm, and pulled me away from Mrs. Fairbanks. Obviously a little embarrassed by what her mom had said.
"Later Michael!" She yelled as Angela guided me to the back.
"Later, nice to meet you."