Page 68 of Taste of Death

“Beef tataki.”The vampire waiter at Carnassian’s placed the dish in front of me. “And the kitfo for you, sir.” He set Novak’s food down and stepped back. “Can I get you anything else?”

“This is great, thank you.”

“Enjoy, folks.”

As the waiter left, I hurried to remove my chopsticks from their paper wrapping. We’d gone clothes shopping for two hours before eating and I was starving.

“Be honest,” I said. “Is Jo going to be upset that you’re cheating on her with restaurant food?”

Novak laughed, setting a napkin in his lap. “I think she’ll understand that I’m taking you out on a date.” He extended his hand across the table. “Let me see that.”

“This?” I held up the paper wrapper that my chopsticks had been in and he nodded. When I handed it over, he started folding it on the table’s surface.

“Plus, as talented a chef as she is, she can’t always whip up authentic Ethiopian food when I’m craving it.” His attention was steadfast on his paper-folding project as he spoke.

“You actually crave food?”

“I crave tastes and textures. There are more foodie vampires than you might believe.”

“I believe it.” I picked up a piece of barely-seared beef with my chopsticks and chewed. The meat melted in my mouth, dancing in all kinds of flavors that I had never perceived as a human before. Rich, savory, balanced with a burst of citrus. I could get used to this.

Novak finished folding up my paper wrapper and placed it next to my plate. “There you go, akra.”

“What’s this?” I picked up the folded paper, which now looked like a small boat with an indent in the middle.

“You can rest your chopsticks on it.”

“Oh.” Words were lost on me. It was such a small but thoughtful gesture. “Thank you.”

Novak had just taken a bite of his food and smiled slowly as he chewed, the muscles in his jaw flexing in a way that shouldn’t have been sexy. But then again, I found his forearms and rolled-up sleeves sexy so maybe jaw muscles weren’t too far off.

“How’s your food?” I asked when I remembered how to speak.

“Good. Do you want to try it?” Novak pushed his plate toward me. “Rip off a piece of that bread, scoop it up, and dip it in the sauce.”

I took a bit from his plate and he tried a bit from mine. We talked about food and flavors we liked and didn’t like, ribbing each other about our differences in tastes as we enjoyed our meal. It was… easy and light. Fun. Another moment with Novak I wanted to soak up forever and never see the end of.

“How’s your research going?” I paused in my eating, resting my chopsticks on the little stand he made for me.

Novak chewed slowly, the muscles in his jaw working hypnotically before his throat bobbed with a swallow. “I think it’s coming to an end, to be honest.”

“Really? Is that good or bad?” I couldn’t tell from his reaction. He didn’t seem happy about it, more resigned.

“It’s not a cure. So in that sense, it’s a failure.” He took a long swallow of his wine. “But I was able to isolate the cause of the disease, a virus, and the antibodies. From that, I can make a vaccine to help prevent future cases. But as far as the damage that’s already done?” He shrugged and lifted his hands in a giving up motion. “There’s no undoing it, from what I can see. Maybe in another fifty years, with more discoveries and advanced technology, it will be possible. At this point though, I think I’ve done all I can do with the tools at my disposal.”

My jaw hung open. “Novak, that’s incredible! You’ve discovered the source and can save lives. I can’t believe you sound so disappointed. You’ve done more work on this illness than anyone else has.”

His look was sheepish, like he was taking too much credit despite doing all the work. “I fell short of what I originally set out to do, so it doesn’t exactly feel like a victory.”

“There’s a saying humans have.” I picked up my chopsticks, digging into my food once again. “Shoot for the moon. If you miss, you’ll still land among the stars.”

Novak’s mouth lifted at one corner. “Which means?”

“It’s a way of saying even if you don’t hit your original target, you can still accomplish great things. You made a discovery that will help people! That’s amazing and you should celebrate that.”

“Thank you. But your saying doesn’t make sense because the nearest star is still ninety-seven million miles away from the moon.”

“Oh, you get what I’m saying, Mister Scientist. Don’t make me throw my cute little chopstick rest at you, I quite like it.”

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