Fangs, Fate & Other Bad Decisions novel Chapter 98

Chapter 98

The farmer’s market hums with life around us–bright, sunlit, and full of people leisurely going about their Sunday. Children run past us with sticky fingers and half–eaten popsicles, laughing as their parents scold them gently for running too far ahead. The air smells like fresh herbs, the sweetness of just–baked goods, and the unmistakable tang of fried food wafting from the food stalls we’re approaching. There’s a heavy hum of chatter, the murmur of happy voices mixing with the sizzle of food on grills. It’s a completely normal day, but as I walk alongside Thane, I feel like everything about this situation is so far from normal that it’s almost laughable.

I glance sideways at him, watching his sharp features take in the chaos of the market. His expression is guarded, but I can tell he’s intrigued by it all, even if he’s trying his damnedest to remain stoic. He stands out like a sore thumb in the crowd, a picture of dark elegance among the mess of colorful tents and the bright faces of everyday people. I can’t help but smile at the absurdity of the situation. Thane Draeven, a vampire who’s probably never even fried an egg, is about to have his mind blown by the simple joy of street food.

Welcome to my world, Bat Boy

I nudge him with my elbow, drawing his attention. “Okay, Mr. Draven,” I say with a grin, my voice teasing as I wave my hand in the general direction of all the food trucks and carts. “Let your education begin.”

Thane raises an eyebrow, clearly not sure what he’s in for, but he’s following me nonetheless. And I’m more than happy to drag him through this experience kicking and screaming if I have to. The sun feels warm on my face, and for once, I don’t mind it. This simple chaos, the noise, the people, it’s everything I love about this town. And I want to show him it all, if only to shake him out of that polished, immovable shell he seems To hide behind.

I make my first stop at a street food cart selling deep–fried mozzarella sticks, piled high and crispy, with marinara sauce on the side. The smell is Intoxicating, a sharp, savory note that hits me in the stomach. I grab a basket and shove a few bills into the vendor’s hand before Thane can even blink. His mouth opens slightly, as if he’s about to say something, but I’m already moving to the next stall.

– “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” I tell him, barely containing my amusement as his face remains unreadable, even when I load up on a second order of

curly fries at the following stall.

“Really? This is your idea of a meal?” he asks, his tone dripping with incredulity, though I see the faintest flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

“You think that’s bad?” I laugh to myself. “Just wait. We’ve got churros, tornado potatoes, and a few of those gourmet hot dogs on the way.” voice has an almost mischievous edge as I scan the stalls ahead. The fact that he’s trying to make sense of it all only makes me want to di deeper into this ridiculousness.

I practically dance with excitement as I buy a pretzel from a vendor down the lane, then pick up a small bag of kettle corn just to make sure we’re fully stocked. By the time I make it to a stand selling corn dogs, Thane’s standing with his arms loaded with take–away containers, his jaw working slightly as if he’s trying to wrap his mind around what’s happening. The sheer quantity of food I’ve collected must be making him rethink every meal he’s ever had.

This is far from his normal luxury dining experience. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t had a single real meal since he became a vampire that a Michelin- star chef didn’t prepare. The thought of him getting his first taste of greasy food from a street cart makes me grin like a cat that got into the

creata carton.

As we shuffle along the market, bags and containers weighing heavily in our arms, a vendor at a nearby booth catches sight of our struggle and offers me an empty cardboard beer box to help us out. It’s slightly battered but sturdy enough to hold everything. Laccept it from the guy with a friendly smile, and without missing a beat, toss more snacks inside. The box is already filled to the brim with everything, spanning from my first buy of mozzarella sticks to com dogs, the promised gourmet hot dogs, flaky pastries, a few random dips, and two cups of homemade lemonade.

I take a moment to catch my breath and smooth my sweater down, feeling a little like I’ve just made the best bad decision in the world.

As I finish up my transaction at a stall that sells ginormous chocolate chip cookies, I practically skip to the next stall, eager to plle on even more unhealthy goodness. I can’t help it. There’s something so blissfully Indulgent about it all.

hat now?” Tune asks, his voice sounding almost resigned to the madness unfolding around him. He carries our beer box of goodies like it’s precious treasure, his stole expression still firmly in place, but I catch a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “This is turning into quite the event, dn’t you think?”

“Well, brace yourself,” I say, voice lilting with mock seriousness. “You’re about to get the full experience.”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, as if challenging me to keep surprising him. Challenge accepted.

As we walk along, dodging people and weaving between market stalls, I can’t help but feel lighter than I have in days. I glance at Thane, who seems increasingly out of place, but also oddly intrigued by the chaos. He might not be eating any of the food yet, but I can see his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Next stop,” I announce as we get close to another stall, “a good old–fashioned churro stand.”

“His eyes narrow, and I can see the skepticism in his expression as he glances from the churro stand to me. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious,” I confirm with a smile, feeling my heart beat faster at the idea of getting him to try it.

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