Mildly, she said, “And yet you needed to meddle with his mind to get what you wanted. You had to cheat. I’m not impressed.”
Damon laughed. “I didn’t have to. I wanted to. I enjoy doing it.”
“Why waste the effort?” Summer inquired. He had a nice laugh, sort of a rumbly chuckle. “If you can get what you want without cheating, it’s simpler. You never have to explain something that can’t be explained to most people.” She sat back a little and regarded him. “But you don’t get any backlash, do you? All the rewards, none of the risk.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “It’s a deal.” She lifted the glass to him. “So far you haven’t made me want to set you on fire. You’ve confused me a lot, and I’m a bit worried about your ability to pass now, but I don’t want to set you on fire.”
Damon smirked and took another sip, watching her. “I pass fine. I have for a hundred and fifty years,” he said, lifting his glass to her in return before tossing more back.
Mildly, she said, “And yet you needed to meddle with his mind to get what you wanted. You had to cheat. I’m not impressed.”
She forced herself to conceal a twitch. “You would have a fun time trying to kill me. Tell me, is it true what myth says fire does to your kind?” Another slow sip, a careful flicking of the gaze sideways to him. “I’m an empath. And a witch. A fire witch.”
Damon nodded, grimacing a little. “Had a bad experience with a witch before. She liked setting me on fire too,” he said, smirking and shaking his head. “Let’s not make a habit of that. Sound good?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I won’t kill you, and you won’t set me on fire.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “It’s a deal.” She lifted the glass to him. “So far you haven’t made me want to set you on fire. You’ve confused me a lot, and I’m a bit worried about your ability to pass now, but I don’t want to set you on fire.”
“I don’t like listening to their confusion. Their disbelief. The fear of the ones who believe,” Summer said baldly. “And I don’t like being eavesdropped on.” She shrugged. “But I don’t like a lot of things, and I deal with them, and it strikes me that going somewhere with you, where I’m not in complete control of the situation, might be a bad idea.” Taking a sip of her drink, she gave Damon a sideways smile.
Damon nodded thoughtfully. “Very wise. I wouldn’t feed on you. Seeing as you don’t appear to be totally human, I’m not too sure what your blood would do to me,” he said, looking her over. “But I can’t promise I won’t kill you, so that’s probably a wise choice. So tell me. What are you, exactly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She forced herself to conceal a twitch. “You would have a fun time trying to kill me. Tell me, is it true what myth says fire does to your kind?” Another slow sip, a careful flicking of the gaze sideways to him. “I’m an empath. And a witch. A fire witch.”
Summer gave him a narrow-eyed glance, but let it go. He would believe her, or not. It didn’t matter. “My name is Summer.” She tilted her head toward the bartender, and asked, “Why did you do that? It really is simpler not to meddle in their heads.”
Damon shrugged. “I didn’t have an ID. I’m assuming you don’t have one either because there’s no way you’re twenty one,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “He’s just a human,” he said, shrugging. “And based on how you’re talking, it seems you’re much more than meets the eye.”
Expressionlessly, she pulled out her ID and held it up between two fingers. “Very flattering. /Very/ inaccurate. I would not be sitting here with the remains of a drink already if I was underage.” The bartender put the new drink by her elbow, and she flashed him a grateful smile before turning back to Damon. “Are you sure you want to talk about that here?”
Damon raised an eyebrow, scanning over the ID before nodding a little. “Interesting. I stand corrected,” he said, tossing back the rest of his drink. “Are you not comfortable discussing it in public?” he asked teasingly. “Afraid?”
“I don’t like listening to their confusion. Their disbelief. The fear of the ones who believe,” Summer said baldly. “And I don’t like being eavesdropped on.” She shrugged. “But I don’t like a lot of things, and I deal with them, and it strikes me that going somewhere with you, where I’m not in complete control of the situation, might be a bad idea.” Taking a sip of her drink, she gave Damon a sideways smile.
Summer gave him a narrow-eyed glance, but let it go. He would believe her, or not. It didn’t matter. “My name is Summer.” She tilted her head toward the bartender, and asked, “Why did you do that? It really is simpler not to meddle in their heads.”
Damon shrugged. “I didn’t have an ID. I’m assuming you don’t have one either because there’s no way you’re twenty one,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “He’s just a human,” he said, shrugging. “And based on how you’re talking, it seems you’re much more than meets the eye.”
Expressionlessly, she pulled out her ID and held it up between two fingers. “Very flattering. /Very/ inaccurate. I would not be sitting here with the remains of a drink already if I was underage.” The bartender put the new drink by her elbow, and she flashed him a grateful smile before turning back to Damon. “Are you sure you want to talk about that here?”
Running her finger around the rim of her empty glass, Summer glanced away, eyes flicking to the tv, and back. “Enough to be extremely surprised that you comprehend my use of the word.” She turned in the chair enough to fix his blue eyes with her green ones. “You can’t lie to me, Damon.”
Damon narrowed his eyes, giving her a sly smile. “I can. I probably will. But for now, humor me. What’s your name?” he asked, eyeing her. He could manipulate her if he wanted to. He knew it would be just as easy to do as it was with the bartender — but he was bored. And he wanted to have some fun.
Summer gave him a narrow-eyed glance, but let it go. He would believe her, or not. It didn’t matter. “My name is Summer.” She tilted her head toward the bartender, and asked, “Why did you do that? It really is simpler not to meddle in their heads.”
“Damon,” Summer said slowly, shaping the syllables with care. “It suits you.” She followed the exchange with the bartender with eyebrows climbing into her hairline, then murmured, “It’s usually considered impolite to cheat so obviously in public. After all, he’s only doing his job.”
Damon looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Cheat? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, taking a sip of his own drink and smirking. He looked her over before licking his lips. “What would you know about cheating, anyway?”
Running her finger around the rim of her empty glass, Summer glanced away, eyes flicking to the tv, and back. “Enough to be extremely surprised that you comprehend my use of the word.” She turned in the chair enough to fix his blue eyes with her green ones. “You can’t lie to me, Damon.”
Oh, so he was willing to play along. That raised him a notch. “I do. I assume you do too. Perhaps we could exchange them some time.” She lifted her eyebrows slightly, keeping her smile small and mysterious.
Damon watched her, smiling a little despite himself. She was definitely different than most girls he tried to pick up. “I’ll give you mine today because I’m feeling particularly nice,” he said. “Damon Salvatore,” he said, nodding a bit. He took the drink from the bartender and handed it to the girl. When the bartender asked for some ID, Damon just looked at him and said, “You don’t need to see ID.” The bartender looked momentarily confused but nodded, walking off back to his work.
“Damon,” Summer said slowly, shaping the syllables with care. “It suits you.” She followed the exchange with the bartender with eyebrows climbing into her hairline, then murmured, “It’s usually considered impolite to cheat so obviously in public. After all, he’s only doing his job.”
Summer fumbled the page turn, skipping five pages ahead, at the unexpected voice. Carefully, she laid the ereader down and turned to look at the newcomer, appraising him. Blue eyes, dark hair, appealing bad boy aura. Tall. “I’m sure you’re capable of it,” she replied. “Were you intending to ask permission, perhaps? Then yes, you may. Peach daiquiri.”
Damon rolled his eyes. She was one of those people. He looked over at the bartender. “One peach daiquiri,” he said, sitting down next to her and looking her over. “Do you have a name?” he asked, watching her.
Oh, so he was willing to play along. That raised him a notch. “I do. I assume you do too. Perhaps we could exchange them some time.” She lifted her eyebrows slightly, keeping her smile small and mysterious.