"Hmmm. Okay, I guess. But there's this white stuff everywhere. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but it's cold and slippery."
"Sounds intriguing. Except for the cold and slippery part."
"Yeah, well, not really. So, not that I'm complaining—because I'm grading blue books and I'll take any excuse for a break—but why are you awake? The sun is shining, where you are anyway. Shouldn't you be cuddled up next to that gorgeous vampire you're living in sin with?"
Cyn blew out a dismissive breath. “Don't be stodgy, Sarah. You're too young for it. Besides, we did the whole blood exchange thing . . . repeatedly actually. We're mated and that's the vampire equivalent of marriage. When in Rome . . ."
"Okay, yuck on the blood thing. I still don't understand how—"
"The blood thing is important, Sarah. Especially for a super vamp like Raphael. It marks me as his mate, which is a sort of protection. And it links us in a way . . . I don't know if I can explain it. But it's important."
"All right, I believe you. Changing the subject now. Please tell me it's not like eighty degrees in Malibu."
"It's not. It's raining, which means the natives are convinced the end is near and are engaged in ritual auto pileups in an attempt to appease the angry gods."
"I remember it well. So why are you awake? It's barely past noon on your coast."
"Shareholder's meeting. I had breakfast afterward with my father and grandmother. Sometimes I don't think we'd recognize each other if not for the family resemblance."
Sarah thought about her own family and forced a polite laugh. Cyn, of course, wasn't fooled.
"Everything all right, Sarah?"
"Sure, why?"
"Oh, man, that was weak. What's going on?"
"No, really. I'm fine. It's probably just this God-awful weather."
"You're the one who wanted to move far away from sunny California."
"Yeah.” Sarah sighed deeply and said again, more softly, “Yeah."
"Okay, that's it. We need to get you out of that two-horse town. I think a vacation is definitely in order."
"I can't, Cyn. Even if I had the money, which I don't—"
"I've got—"
"—I can't take the time off. I'm teaching two classes and they've loaded me up with committee work. I'm the new kid, I'm untenured and I'm female, which means I get all the crap assignments, because they know I can't refuse."
"A weekend,” Cyn insisted. “The university won't collapse if you take a weekend off. Come on. Somewhere close. What's close to that place? Niagara Falls? Hell, no,” she answered herself. “Full of tourists and all that water, which is probably frozen stiff by now. Wait! Where's my head? Manhattan! You're like an hour away by air, and my God, Sarah, the stores!"
"Cyn, I can't. Besides, we'll never get a hotel—"
"Who needs a hotel? My father has a townhouse or a condo or something. It's always empty this time of year. He hates the cold."
"Okay, fine. One weekend, Cyn. That's it."
"What a grouch. Is this what happens when you become a professor? You're not wearing tweed, are you?"
Sarah laughed at last. A real laugh this time, not the forced, polite one from before. “No, no tweed. That stuff itches. I'll figure out which airline to call and—"
"No, I'll make all the arrangements. I don't trust you. Any weekend in particular good for you?"
"No, they're pretty much all the same,” Sarah admitted, contemplating her dreary life.
"Well, Jesus, Sarah. No wonder you need a vacation. Okay. Let me talk to Raphael and I'll get back to you. This is going to be fun!"