Odd Stuff by Virginia Nelson Page B

apartment, fighting off exaustion mostly with sheer stubbornness. Peeking in on Vickie, I was greeted by snores, yet again. I tried one last time to make a grab for the iPod and again got a grumble in response. Soon the sun would rise, so I gave up in hopes of sleeping some before she woke for the day. Back to the kitchen, vampire in tow, I began to make food. Since I wasn’t talking, Vance didn’t either. Plopping the block of cream cheese in a plastic dish, I gooped it around a little to spread it then dumped the chili on the bed of white. Finally, I topped off my mess with a hefty handful of shredded cheddar. 
    Tossing the dish in the microwave for two minutes, I snagged a bottle of water. Impatient, I tapped the door until the timer beeped then retrieved my melty gooey mess and headed for the living room. Dropping onto the sectional Sven abandoned at some point in my absence, I opened the chips and water before dipping a chip in my goo.  
    Ohhh, it is so, so good. Vance gazed with some doubt at my meal, so I offered him the bowl. “Want some?”  
    He took a chip and dipped carefully. 
    “Make sure to get some Philly on it.” Loading another tortilla chip for myself, I crunched happily. He ate his gingerly. Vampires eat. Who knew?  
    “It’s not bad.” He shrugged. “Can’t be good for you, though.” 
    “Nope.”
    “How did you come up with it?”
    “I didn’t.” I continued to munch as I spoke so my words came out in a garble. “Found it on the cream cheese box.” 
    “Hmm,” the sound rumbled from him and seemed to caress my skin.
    “You talk, I eat.”
    “So, I was at Madam Zulu, right?” He adjusted his sleeves in a gesture that I was beginning to recognize as characteristic. I nodded, and slurped down some water. 
    “She was a blood buddy of mine.”
    “Define ‘blood buddy’?” I asked before digging in the chips with fervor. 
    “Blood buddy is like…she shares her blood with me and we are friends, but we’re not involved in any relationship.” 
    “Oh, like a f—” 
    “Yeah, but without any F.”
    I nodded. Got it.  
    “She was staked. Since she was a psychic and therefore a mortal creature this, of course, killed her.” 
    I nodded again. I was beginning to feel like a bobblehead Janie, but I was too hungry to care. When my mouth was empty, I put in, “So, she was psychic and didn’t see that coming?” 
    He frowned at me, and his pupils shrunk a little. “I did mention that she was my friend?” 
    “Yeah, sorry.” I returned to the chips. I actually seemed to be handling the conversation better when I ate and bobbled my head. 
    “And now Marcus is dead.” His voice held a ring of finality. He sounded genuinely sad over the loss of his friend.  
    “My condolences. And Marcus was…?” 
    “Another blood buddy of mine. That was why you were buying him iron. To donate on a regular basis, you have to keep your iron up.”
    Iron carried oxygen in the blood. Made sense—donating blood to a vampire would make you anemic. “Two of your food stuffs staked. How many more do you have?” 
    He shifted, obviously uncomfortable with my question. “Mia.” 
    “You are involved with Mia?” That surprised me. For one, he wasn’t her type. She liked quiet guys, or at least she did when I knew her well. Then again, we hadn’t been as close lately. Maybe her tastes changed? On the other hand, why had he kissed me, knowing I was her friend, if he was involved with her ? 
    I gave him a very dirty look. Douchecanoe.  
    “It is a good thing I can read your mind.”
    I frowned, not satisfied. 
    “Blood buddies rarely exchange blood. The connection is personal and emotional and no one human can supply enough to keep one of us alive. Modern technology made the exchange easier and removed the physical from the act of sponsoring blood, avoiding an overly personal connection via the blood bond. Where do you think the bags in the fridge came from?” 
    “A