We start back up when it’s 4:30am and Betsy is pulling into her own driveway. This begs the question, if she had a car, why did she take the bus to work every morning, especially if it was unreliable and made her constantly late? I mean, I get that city dwellers (if suburbs count) don’t always use their cars unless they have to, but you’d think if she consistently missed the bus due to it coming too early or too late, she’d have taken her fucking car.
Anyway! There’s a white Ford Taurus parked in her driveway, which belongs to Detective Nick! Betsy figures this out because of his “clean, distinctive scent” before claiming she’d never once smelled it before (so how does she know it’s his?) because, and I quote, “Whenever I saw him at the station, all I could smell was stale croissants (the doughnut thing is a myth) and old coffee.” I personally am unsure whether a croissant is distinctive enough from a donut to bust such a myth, or whether one cop (or one station?) speaks for all. But hey, maybe it’s part of that whole Blue Wall thing. A secret love of croissants over donuts, like a secret handshake but with pastries!
He hurries out of her kitchen (perhaps checking for pastries? Okay I’ll stop) and makes a move towards his gun, but she yells at him and demands a warrant. “I didn’t need one, seeing as how you’re dead. Also, you didn’t lock the front door again,” he retorts, and of course we all know cops don’t need a warrant if the door is unlocked!
Anyway, he initially tells her she could be arrested for “faking her own death,” and how pissed the D.A.’s gonna be, despite the fact that…why would he even be involved? Unless they charged the Aztek driver I suppose, but that is never mentioned. Ever.
Then he pulls Betsy into his arms and starts telling her she’s so beautiful in between kisses. Betsy kisses back, but ends up biting his lower lip accidentally (must be a great kisser!) which causes her fangs, and her fangs-induced lisp, to come out.
She tries to tell him he “thould go,” but he just responds, “But you’re so beautiful.” Betsy puts it together that he’d never shown more than a passing interest in her as nothing more than a witness to a crime (the biting-and-scratching strangers who were akin to being tortured in WWII, according to some!). He kisses her again, and she him, suckling on the blood coming out of his lip. He literally rips off her clothing after taking off his own (except for their underwear) and she bites his neck and luxuriates in his blood, which he demands more, more, more!
Until he comes inside of his “tighty-whities” (which is an incredibly erotic term to use in a sex scene!) and Betsy whines to herself how she’s only had 3 sex partners and it takes more to make her come, but then she comes anyway. “It was a shallow orgasm, the kind you get when you’re diddling with yourself and squeeze your knees together at just the right moment, but a come is a come (I should stitch that on a sampler sometime.” Nick continues to beg Betsy to bite him again and again, and then she finally figures out how she accidentally bewitched the janitor, the priest, the cab driver, and so on, and that oh yeah, she totally bewitched Nick. “I got ready to yowl with horror and frustration, when I got a grip (you’ve overreacted enough in the last two days) and instead picked Nick up and carried him up to my room like he was a blonde male Scarlett and I was an undead Rhett.” Classy.
He casually accepts her vampirism afterwards (like everyone else has! You’d think at least one person would be surprised to discover vampires exist and their loved one is one, but…nope! Not even her father and stepmother were shocked, just kinda annoyed!) and they discuss whether or not they will have actual sex now. Nick is all for it, but Betsy starts whining that he didn’t want her like this before, when she was human, and she bit him and “didn’t even ask,” so no she won’t fuck him. “Come on,” he coaxed, “Let me in…and I’ll let you in.” He is lying on top of her at this point. She refuses, saying it’s akin to rape, and forces him to put on his clothes after which she “shoves him out the door.”
Regardless, he bangs on said door for 15 minutes begging for sex (always an attractive quality!) before the chapter ends with her musing, “In the movies, vampires are always these all-powerful jerks who use people like Kleenex. Now I could see why. A clean-cut boy (note: in the previous page she estimated his age to be “in his forties, but sure…boy) next door who lets you drink his blood, then begs for more of the same, will let you do anything.
Anything at all.”