Inject Me Sweetly / Dusk Until Dawn

:Inject Me Sweetly: Chapter Eleven

"You were dead set on not believing we existed." 

"Well I thought you were all like the vampires in the movie. You know, dead? Or changed or something. But apparently you're noting like that at all... Wait. Do you guys age the same as humans?"  

Vincent shook his head. "If we did, my dad would be long dead." 

I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. "Well?" 

"Well what?" 

"How do you age?" I snapped, frustrated at his teasing. 

He leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling. "You know how our hearts beat so slow? It's like the same with aging. Except, the older you get as a vampire, the slower you age. Understand?" 

"No..." 

"Then you're stupid." 

I shot him an annoyed look. "Whatever." 

"All you need to know is that we age slowly." 

"So how old are you?" 

He glanced at me. "In human years?" 

"Sure." 

"Nineteen." 

I opened my mouth to ask how old he'd be in vampire years, but decided not to bother. It'd probably freak me out too much. Especially since he really did look nineteen in human years. A very handsome nineteen year old. My face heated at the thought and I quickly dispelled it.  

"How old are you?" 

I blinked at him. He didn't know my age? That was surprising. "In human years or...?" 

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, stupid." 

"Seventeen," I told him, frowning. 

"You're Fiona's age." 

"Really?" 

He nodded. 

"Um... How old is Sebastian?" 

"Too old for you." 

Heat rose to my cheeks and I glowered at him. "I-I didn't even mean it that way!" 

He smirked. "Or did you?" 

"No!" 

"He's twenty-one, human years, but in vampire years he's-" 

I clapped my hands over my ears quickly. "I don't want to hear it!" 

"Why not?" 

"If I hear your age, I might pass out," I told him honestly. 

"I wouldn't be surprised." 

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Whatever. But hey, since you're answering questions so freely right now can I ask you another?" 

"Nope," he responded smoothly, sliding out of the stool he was on. "I have some princely duties to do." 

"Like what?" 

"Stuff." 

I sighed lightly. "Way to be vague." 

"Leave your dishes on the table," he ordered. "The kitchen slaves will clean it up." 

Frowning, I glanced at him. "Kitchen slaves?" 

"Yeah. The kitchen help." 

"Why did you say slaves then?" 

He smirked. "It's funnier." 

I snorted. "That's like calling the mailman a mail slave." 

"No that just sounds stupid, stupid."