LOVE BITES Page 0,81

keys to Pudge, but he shook his head.

"You'll need them to open the door." He gestured her to the left.

Rachel turned to survey the direction he pointed toward, spotting the house door at once. It was a one-car garage, and the van, left little more than a foot and a half of walking space. Rachel moved along the passenger side of the van, pausing when she spotted the wreath of garlic with a cross in the center that hung on the middle of the door.

"Sorry. Back off a bit." Pudge quickly stepped up to remove the paraphernalia.

She didn't inform him it was useless. Instead, she pondered how paranoid the man must be to put such things on his door.

"Okay." Taking the cross and garlic with him, he backed out of the way and gestured forward, informing her, "It's the wide silver key."

Rachel sorted until she found the only wide silver key, then stepped up to the door and inserted it in the lock. When the lock clicked open, she turned to arch an eyebrow at her captor.

"Go on," Pudge ordered, gesturing with his crossbow. Rachel opened the door and stepped into his kitchen, then stopped dead. She had never seen such a pigsty. The counters and sink were stacked with filthy dishes, and there wasn't an inch of stove, fridge, counter, cupboard, or floor that wasn't covered with food slops or just plain filth. On top of that was a coating of grease that bespoke a good deal of fried food being cooked.

"Move." A sharp poke in her back made Rachel take a quick step forward, then continue through the kitchen avoiding touching anything. It was bad enough that she had to step on the floor; her sneakers stuck to the linoleum with every step. It was disgusting. And the dining room was just as bad, she saw, as she stepped through its arch.

"Sit down."

"I'd rather not." Rachel gazed over the table with its stacks of dirty dishes. Unfortunately, food wasn't the only thing on the plates. There were more than a couple of bugs crawling across them, feasting happily on month-old pizza and such. As for the chairs themselves, they were blessedly free of plates, but were instead covered with several months' old newspapers, flyers and junk mail. "You know, Pudge, a housekeeper wouldn't be a bad thing."

"Sit!" He was apparently feeling rather confident now that they were inside. He got close enough to grab her by the shoulder and steer her into the nearest chair. Rachel winced as the edge of a crumpled flyer poked her in the butt, but she didn't say anything as he moved around the table and seated himself, positioning his crossbow on the table aimed at her chest.

They were both silent a moment, staring at each other, sizing each other up. But when the silence continued to draw out and Rachel began to feel uncomfortable, she raised her eyebrows. "So?"

"So?" Pudge frowned. "What?"

"Are you going to kill me now or what?" Rachel asked.

"No!" He looked startled at the very possibility. "No way. It's my fault you're a vampire chick. Or is it vampiress?" While he sat muttering and fretting, Rachel tried to figure out exactly where that left her. Judging by the awe in his tone, Pudge was much more impressed by a female vampire. He seemed to see her being a vampire as a cool thing, whereas Etienne being one meant he was someone to be obliterated. She wasn't sure why.

"So..."

Rachel glanced at Pudge's face, made curious by his almost excited look. Nothing prepared her for his question, however. "Are you hungry?"

Taken by surprise she might be, but his question was relevant. She didn't think she'd lost too much blood from the cuts to her throat, but she was hungry. Her gaze drifted to the refrigerator in the kitchen. Did he have any blood in there? It didn't seem likely, but if not, why did he ask if she was hungry? Then again, if he did have blood, she wasn't at all sure it would be safe to drink in this bacteria factory he called a home. She half-suspected it wouldn't be. Could anything in this place be safe to put near her mouth?

"You could bite me," Pudge offered, drawing her attention. He looked rather excited at the prospect. Rachel felt her appetite die a quick death.

"Thanks, but--" she began politely.

"Oh, come on. You have to be craving blood. You could even turn me if you wanted." His gaze dropped to her