did, so we make ourselves scarce.
Not before I watch the last Greek letter incinerate.
***
Day comes and sunlight proves to be a more than worthy adversary. Not wanting to burst into flames, I have no choice but to obey Catch and take solace in his hotel room. Holed up in the hotel room, I take the ‘learn the hard way’ approach and discover he is right about sunlight. And regeneration. A couple pints of blood and my blackened hand is good as new. We clamp the curtains with clothes pins after that; vampire proofing for curious newbies with self-destructive tendencies.
So far everything Catch told me was proving true, and while I hate to admit it, I know he is the only one who can ensure my survival in this new form. As I have time to settle into this new demonic state, it becomes clear that I cannot go back to my old life. And that is difficult to digest.
But it’s not as if I have a bad mentor. I don’t know if it is a metaphysical connection or an authentic chemistry, but we are drawn to each other. And the passion is nearly impossible to fight. I’d felt drawn to him the night I met him, back when I did not have his blood in my veins, so I prefer to think it is not by some otherworldly means that we are inseparable. Catch says that some of his kind can use hypnotism on humans, but he insists it is a skill he does not possess. Sometimes, though, I wonder.
At night we venture out into the city, careful to avoid my old neighborhood.
He explains the world as he views it. He unleashes an endless supply of stories of his adventures, of his experiences since he’d been turned—they came pouring out as though he’d kept them bottled up for just such an occasion.
He needs someone to listen.
I get the impression he has never had that before.
Never had someone to share his world with. At least not intimately.
And now I am that someone. Lucky me.
Truth is I didn’t mind. Filled with violence and destruction, his tales have all the ingredients for a killer action film. He is the most interesting person—er, being—I’d ever met. He opened my eyes to a fascinating new reality.
So the stories I do not mind. Plus, he has a devilish smile and infuriatingly charming accent to accompany them.
The fact that these stories are not fiction and will now feature me as an unwilling participant—that terrifies my very core.
***
I wrinkle my nose with brows furrowed and lips twisted into a snarl. Catch laughed. I extend the jar of animal blood—pig or cow most likely—as far from my face as my arm will allow.
He shakes his head.
“Nope, gotta down it. You need blood.”
“This is rank. Nothing doing.”
He pushes it gently toward my chest. “I drank mine. Your turn.”
We’d just come from a butcher. He insisted I get used to finding my own food supply and then proceeded to introduce me to the hassle-free world of meat suppliers. I shoot him a resentful glare and take a gulp.
“Whew, that is nasty.”
“But it’ll restore your strength, quell the hunger. The longer blood has been separated from its host, the more it sours. Mammals have a little variance in flavor, but it’s the freshness that makes all the difference.”
“Point made.”
“Real point is that you can survive off stale stock if you have to.”
***
“A hospital?”
“You wanted a challenge.”
“I wanted a decent meal. I guess I should be relieved we’re not at a morgue.”
“You have to pay a mortician to bag it. And it’s often contaminated with embalming fluid. Trust me, blood banks are your best option.”
“This is a hospital, not a blood bank. Ever hear of the Red Cross? I’m sure they have some version of it over in England.”
“We do, but tell me this—if you were a wolf looking to hunt yourself some vampires, where would you go hunting?”
“You think the wolves are staking out blood banks?”
“I know so. At least they were. They’ve changed their focus lately, stopped targeting us. But I’m not about
Not before I watch the last Greek letter incinerate.
***
Day comes and sunlight proves to be a more than worthy adversary. Not wanting to burst into flames, I have no choice but to obey Catch and take solace in his hotel room. Holed up in the hotel room, I take the ‘learn the hard way’ approach and discover he is right about sunlight. And regeneration. A couple pints of blood and my blackened hand is good as new. We clamp the curtains with clothes pins after that; vampire proofing for curious newbies with self-destructive tendencies.
So far everything Catch told me was proving true, and while I hate to admit it, I know he is the only one who can ensure my survival in this new form. As I have time to settle into this new demonic state, it becomes clear that I cannot go back to my old life. And that is difficult to digest.
But it’s not as if I have a bad mentor. I don’t know if it is a metaphysical connection or an authentic chemistry, but we are drawn to each other. And the passion is nearly impossible to fight. I’d felt drawn to him the night I met him, back when I did not have his blood in my veins, so I prefer to think it is not by some otherworldly means that we are inseparable. Catch says that some of his kind can use hypnotism on humans, but he insists it is a skill he does not possess. Sometimes, though, I wonder.
At night we venture out into the city, careful to avoid my old neighborhood.
He explains the world as he views it. He unleashes an endless supply of stories of his adventures, of his experiences since he’d been turned—they came pouring out as though he’d kept them bottled up for just such an occasion.
He needs someone to listen.
I get the impression he has never had that before.
Never had someone to share his world with. At least not intimately.
And now I am that someone. Lucky me.
Truth is I didn’t mind. Filled with violence and destruction, his tales have all the ingredients for a killer action film. He is the most interesting person—er, being—I’d ever met. He opened my eyes to a fascinating new reality.
So the stories I do not mind. Plus, he has a devilish smile and infuriatingly charming accent to accompany them.
The fact that these stories are not fiction and will now feature me as an unwilling participant—that terrifies my very core.
***
I wrinkle my nose with brows furrowed and lips twisted into a snarl. Catch laughed. I extend the jar of animal blood—pig or cow most likely—as far from my face as my arm will allow.
He shakes his head.
“Nope, gotta down it. You need blood.”
“This is rank. Nothing doing.”
He pushes it gently toward my chest. “I drank mine. Your turn.”
We’d just come from a butcher. He insisted I get used to finding my own food supply and then proceeded to introduce me to the hassle-free world of meat suppliers. I shoot him a resentful glare and take a gulp.
“Whew, that is nasty.”
“But it’ll restore your strength, quell the hunger. The longer blood has been separated from its host, the more it sours. Mammals have a little variance in flavor, but it’s the freshness that makes all the difference.”
“Point made.”
“Real point is that you can survive off stale stock if you have to.”
***
“A hospital?”
“You wanted a challenge.”
“I wanted a decent meal. I guess I should be relieved we’re not at a morgue.”
“You have to pay a mortician to bag it. And it’s often contaminated with embalming fluid. Trust me, blood banks are your best option.”
“This is a hospital, not a blood bank. Ever hear of the Red Cross? I’m sure they have some version of it over in England.”
“We do, but tell me this—if you were a wolf looking to hunt yourself some vampires, where would you go hunting?”
“You think the wolves are staking out blood banks?”
“I know so. At least they were. They’ve changed their focus lately, stopped targeting us. But I’m not about
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