"I'm a good boy. I promise." He held up three fingers in the classic Boy Scout pledge. "Besides, you work with my sister. And you know Samantha. One bad word from her and I'd be permanently banned from all future family events."
Still, she wavered. "I don't know. I don't want things to be awkward. I'd rather Samantha didn't know, to tell you the truth. I have a policy of not getting involved with co-workers' relatives."
He laughed. "I wouldn't say we're 'involved'. We're just two horror geeks comparing collections. Come on, you know you're dying to see my first edition Dracula."
"Well…" she hesitated, clearly torn.
"What if I promise Samantha won't find out?" he asked. "We'll wait until the lights drop for the annual Monster Mash Costume Parade and then we'll sneak out through the kitchen. Nobody will ever know."
"You just don't take 'no' for an answer, do you?" The smile on her face offset the harsh words.
"There's a reason why I'm the successful one in the family," he replied modestly.
This time she did laugh out loud. "I wouldn't let Samantha hear you say that."
As if on cue, the lights dimmed and the classic Monster Mash blared through the house.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the kitchen. She tried to watch out for Samantha, but he was right; nobody was paying attention. They were too busy lining up for the costume parade.
Seconds later, they were out of the house and safely ensconced in his car.
"Told you, no problem at all. They'll never even miss us." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Unless they notice they have more cars than guests."
"They won't. I caught the bus over from my apartment."
"Perfect! Fate is obviously smiling on a pair of horror lovers."
She laughed at his enthusiasm. "How could it not? After all, it's Halloween, our equivalent of Valentine's Day."
"On that note, are you a voyeur or an exhibitionist?"
She froze, then reached for the door handle.
"Wait. I was talking about the collections. You know, tying it into the Valentine's Day conversation. Do you want to see my collection or show off yours?"
Relaxing, she pulled her hand back. "In that case, I'm definitely a voyeur. I've been practically drooling over the thought of seeing your books, not to mention the life-sized coffin."
He clutched at his chest. "Ah, music to my heart. A woman who can appreciate a well-made coffin. I may be in love."
It only took a few minutes to get to his house. She looked anxious as they pulled into the garage and the door closed behind them.
"Nothing to worry about. I like vampires, I don't emulate them."
She laughed nervously. "It's just that this is out of character for me. I don't usually go home with men I just met."
"You obviously just don't hang out in the right places," he said with a boyish grin. "Come on, I can't wait to see your face when you check out the interior of that coffin."
An hour later, she flopped onto his sofa with a contented sigh. "You're right. I need to get out more. You have the most amazing stuff!"
He sat down next to her and threw his feet up on the coffee table. "I like to think so. Samantha thinks I'm crazy to spend so much money on it, but I tell her she shouldn't complain. It's my only vice. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I exercise every day. I could do worse things than collect vampire ephemera."
"Ephemera. I like that. Makes it sound classy instead of cheesy."
He stood up with feigned offense. "Cheesy? You dare suggest it might be called cheesy?"
She grabbed his hand and pulled him down beside her.
"I would never do that. In fact, I have nothing but total admiration for the mind that could assemble such an impressive collection." She leaned closer. "It makes me wonder what else that mind could do, if it tried."
He looked deep into her eyes. "I really am a good guy, you know." She moved a little closer.
Reigning in his impulses, he leaned back and closed his eyes.
"So, tell me about your passion. You mentioned all things horror. Do you have a favorite area?"
"I love it all, but my favorite has to be zombies."
His eyes flew open. "Wow. I wouldn't have guessed that one. Most women hate zombies. I always figured it was because of their looks."
"That's an unfair stereotype," she whispered in his ear.
"Of women or of zombies?" he asked.
"Of zombies, of course. Women are always shallow. Zombies, on the other hand, are misunderstood." He shuddered as she traced his jawline with her finger.
"And you know the truth, is that what you're saying?"
"I've made it my mission to learn all about zombies." One of her hands drifted into his hair, gently caressing. He tried to focus on the conversation.
"What are some zombie myths that need busted?" he asked.
"First, they don't have body parts falling off them. It's really ridiculous, if you think about it." She pressed her body closer to his. "What good would a zombie be if they fell apart with every step? You might as well throw a scarecrow at somebody."
He laughed softly. "Good point. What else has your research uncovered?"
"Next, I'd bust the myth that they are brainless. Zombies are, by definition, the walking dead. Their bodies are dead, not their brains. Otherwise they'd never be able to walk or obey commands. An undead can be just as intelligent as a living person. Maybe more so, since their undying minds have had decades and sometimes centuries longer to accumulate knowledge."
"Interesting theory. Anything else?" he asked.
Her hands moved again, caressing him in ways that almost made him forget his Boy Scout pledge. He thought of Samantha and her reaction if he let his body carry out what his mind was thinking.
"Well, there's the stereotype that zombies can't be sexy. If you assume that my first two points are true, then by default you have to acknowledge that an undead person with a perfectly preserved body and keen mind could be attractive. They could definitely have hidden talents that would blow the minds of the average warm-blooded person. It has the potential to be one of the greatest weapons in their arsenal."
She nibbled gently on his ear. He gave the Boy Scout thing one last try.
"Are there any of the zombie myths that you do believe?" he asked.
"Only one," she replied.
"Which is?"
"That zombies can only feed on warm human flesh."
"If zombies are as clever and resourceful as you say, couldn't they find a substitute?"
He wasn't sure how she did it, but suddenly she was straddling him, pressing her body to his. Wrapping her hands in his hair, she leaned forward and teased his lips. His body responded automatically. Samantha would just have to deal with the consequences.
She pulled back a little and looked into his eyes.
"They could find a substitute. But nothing tastes as good as hot, juicy human flesh. It's one of the most erotic things you can ever imagine."
Pain tore across his senses as her teeth sunk into his neck.