Tricked

foods? Stuff that you’ve never eaten before and probably never will again? «
    » Ah, stuff you eat just so you can say later, ‘I ate that once’? «
    » Precisely. There’s a place in town with a very unusual menu. We can try that and then head to Granny’s to chase it with some beers. «
    » Okay. « Granuaile shrugged. » I’m game. Sounds fun. «
    › Hold on. Are you taking her to that one place that serves bizarre meats and cheeses made from mammals that aren’t cows? ‹
    Heh! Yes, I am. Remember the Nicaraguan chupacabra cheese?
    › Okay, I’m betting five sausages that Granuaile can’t make it to the fifth course. ‹
    You’re on. Say good-bye to those five sausages. I know she’ll make it. She has a proud streak .

Chapter 16
    The place in question was called the Double Dog Dare Gourmet Café. It’s the only place I’ve ever found that provides patrons with a barf bag—and it’s not because the food is ill prepared. To the contrary, it’s exquisite. They just serve items that most Americans cannot fathom putting down their throats, and the reactions, when they happen, are all psychologically based. That being the case, they have a rather unique ordering system and service style.
    Everyone gets a different menu from which to order, and you don’t order for yourself—you order for your dinner partner. You pick five items from the menu by silently checking off a list and handing it to the waiter. All five of them are put on a single plate in very small portions, and then you get the plate put in front of you that your partner has dared you to eat—and vice versa. You don’t get told what each item is until after you eat it. Hence the barf bags. It’s all part of the charm.
    The waiters are very careful to inquire about food allergies beforehand, and in some cases you have to sign a waiver before you get served.
    When the ordering system was explained to Granuaile, she smiled and then she perused her menu with relish, determined to put me off my dinner. My smile mirrored hers; ordering was one of the best parts of the process. I toyed with the idea of having mercy on her, but I knew she wasn’t going to have any on me, and, besides, I wanted to give Oberon a decent shot at winning his five sausages. Remembering that Granuaile was a bit sensitive to smells, I ordered the most pungent items I could think of, except for one fried item.
    It was probably a bit unfair. I’ve been around and tried some unholy culinary atrocities in my time, so I knew I’d be able to hold down everything. She might surprise me with something, but nothing was going to make me ralph at the thought of it.
    We took it easy on the drinks, ordering iced tea. Oberon was outside, camouflaged, sitting down out of the way of the door. I ordered him a full order of yak liver to go and let him know.
    › Sounds good, ‹ he said. › Hey, Atticus, not to alarm you or anything, but I think this woman about to walk into the restaurant is a vampire. She smells dead. ‹
    I was sitting facing the door—an old paranoid habit—so I flicked my eyes over there casually as a sharp-featured brunette came in, accompanied by a doughy college kid. Checking her out in the magical spectrum, I saw that she was indeed a vampire; she had the dead gray aura with the two burning embers of vampirism about her heart and head. The college kid was just a clueless sort whose aura suggested that he was horny and hoping to get lucky later on. He’d get something, all right, but it wasn’t lucky.
    She wasn’t all gothed out, the way people these days are trained to expect from vampires in fiction. She was wearing a pair of jeans with holes in the knees and a very tight American Eagle T-shirt underneath a thin white coat that was more for fashion than warmth. She was wearing Vans, for crying out loud. She was trying very hard to blend in and seem human.
    I couldn’t point her out to Granuaile or even say, » Psst! Bloodsucker! « because the vampire would overhear. I had my own blending in to do.
    Well spotted, Oberon. Negative eleven sausages now .
    » Atticus? « Granuaile frowned. » What’s wrong? «
    I smiled at her. » Just remembered something, « I said. » I don’t suppose you have a pen or anything like that in your purse? I need to write it down before I forget. « This was a transparent excuse for anyone who knew anything about Druids, because we don’t forget. But I was counting on the vampire not knowing what I was.
    » Oh, «