She had long ago stopped caring about Alex. At some point, dating a vampire lost its appeal. Especially when said vampire never aged. Never changed. Never grew hair. Maybe she'd like a little stubble. Just a little for a week. Of course, that was petty for a deal breaker. Things had been much more than that. Alex had a thing about not ever clarifying them as an official couple. Or unofficial either. He had been all about the sweet nothings in her ear but like every other guy on the planet, he had a problem with commitment.
And a problem with the fact that she was a werewolf. They weren't supposed to play in the same kiddy pool. That had been a big part of the appeal when they first met and a big part of why they stopped seeing each other. It hadn't been like they even been 'dating' (not dating, whatever Alex wanted to call it) for very long. In comparison, celebrity relationships had last longer.
Okay, that was an exaggeration. The point she was trying to make here was that Alex hadn't been life-or-death important to her or anything. They had a thing. Now they didn't. Maybe she cried afterwards and maybe there were some things that she was still holding onto but really, she was over that old bag. She gladly would have forgotten about the vampire, pretended she had never met him but Royce had a uncharacteristically violent different solution.
Wanting to kill someone and actually doing it were two so different things. It was the difference between Royce and Alex. When it came down to it, Rosey knew that her brother would always defend her but it wasn't in him to be a killer. Not in her either. As boast she might about being tough, taking a life was too big. Rage could carry them so far but Royce had always been able to see the line and keep clear of it. It was a solid, safe quality that she had always admired in her friend. She could see the line. Sometimes, she wanted to see how close she could get to it. She never planned on actually crossing it but when one flirts with fire, one gets burned. Then, Mr. Burned will follow ones all over the country.
Speaking of which, she could smell Charlie's cooking from across the apartment complex. Royce had sent her head, determined to scope out the area for Alex first. Ever since finding out that the vampire had found them in New Hope, Royce had been exceptionally paranoid. He had kept up appearances in front of Charlie, not wanting to (what was the word she used?) spook her further but he was an open book to Rosemary.
She lifted her nose up, the smell of town heavy on the downwind. It was taco day somewhere. Damn, she was salivating at the thought of mexican food. Then again, she was sure that Charlie would whip up something spectacular and scrumptious. The little blonde walked from the manager's office (they had to pay rent) and back over to Charlie's apartment where the smell of food grew stronger and stronger. Hopping the stairs three at a time, she was at Charlie's door in record time. She didn't bother tucking in her tie-dye shirt or straighten out her hair. The fact that she was dressed and showered was enough. Who the hell was she trying to impress? Royce was the one trying to get all Disney with this girl.
Charlie was nice. Maybe nice enough for Royce. Probably nice enough. But nice wouldn't cut it down the road when Charlie would find out what they were. Humans didn't take well to the supernatural. It was too bad. Charlie was a good cook. Make a nice housewife for Royce. And perfect cook for Rosemary too.
'Cause if there was one thing Rosemary never did for herself, it was cook.
Rappa rappa rappa! went her knuckles against Charlie's front door.