“This is getting old.”
Vivian didn’t look up from her book as Marco unceremoniously
plopped down next to her on the bench. She just raised an eyebrow as she turned
the page. “Get used to things getting old.” At Marco’s extended silence, Vivian
sighed and closed her book. Setting it on the bench between them, she turned to
study her friend.
He tended to dress along the romantic Goth lines with his
all-black ensemble: lace cuffs on his shirt, black-on-black brocade vest,
trousers, and knee-high leather boots. The one thing that kept him from being
mistaken for full Goth was his golden blond hair. A little too obvious for
their kind but the world glanced past Goths more now than it used to.
Her own look leaned more toward punk with her biker boots,
jeans, Iron Maiden tee, and leather jacket. After centuries in corsets,
dressed, and various other restraining clothes, Vivian reveled in the freedom
of her modern wardrobe.
“What, pray tell, is getting old?
Marco glared at her for her droll tone. “The humans.”
Vivian rolled her eyes and picked up her book. “That’s what
they do.”
“Would you stop lecturing me?!” Marco exploded, his voice
cut through the night and startled birds from the nearest trees.
Vivian’s eyes widened minutely and she put her book back
down. “I don’t feel like that was warranted,” she said, her tone even.
Marco ran a hand through his hair as he tried to get his
temper back under control. “I apologize, Viv. It’s been a while since I fed, I
—”
“You’re hangry!” Vivian laughed.
“I’m what?”
“Hangry.” Vivian laughed again as Marco glowered at her.
“Your hunger is making you angry, so ‘hangry’. When was the last time you fed?”
Marco leaned back, counting on his fingers. “Two weeks, I
think.”
Vivian’s humor dissolved into concern. “That’s not good.
You’re not old enough to go long stretches between feedings. You have probably
another couple of days before bad things happen. Why have you waited so long?”
Marco rolled his eyes and spread his arms wide, taking in
all of Griffith Park. “There aren’t any humans around to feed off of. They’re
all behind locked doors. And the few that are out avoid people like the
plague.”
“It is a plague, but this one is much cleaner than the
Bubonic.” Vivian shrugged off Marco’s wide-eyed stare. “You knew I was really
old.”
Marco shook his head. “No, not that. It’s how you commented
on the cleanliness of this plague vs. Bubonic when I am in a crisis right now!”
“Oh my god, dramatic much?” Vivian stood, tucking her book
into her bag and pulled Marco to his feet. “We will find you someone to feed
on, if there aren’t any rule breakers out, we can find some bagged to tide you
over.”
Marco made a face. “I hate the bagged stuff. So many
preservatives that make it taste fake and it’s so gross cold. Microwaving it
makes it stale. Who knows where the person’s been. You —”
Vivian slapped the back of Marco’s head to stop his list of
grievances with donated blood. “Beggars can’t be choosers. You’ll take what I
give you because I don’t want your hangry ass making noise and risking us all.”
Marco fell into a sullen silence as he followed Vivian
through the park to her car. “Have you fed on somebody who as sick?”
Vivian glanced up at him with a smirk. “Worried about
catching it?”
Marco shook his head. “Just wondered if they taste
different.”
“Oh, yeah, they do. Kind of… musty.” Vivian frowned, looking
for a better word. “Kind of like a closed basement: kind of damp, maybe a bit
of mold, a little earthy. A taste that’s better in cheese, not blood.”
Marco made a face.
Vivian reached up and patted his shoulder. “We’ll try to
find a healthy one for you. The people who have recovered from it still taste a
little off, so watch out for them, too.”
They reached Vivian’s blood red Barracuda and climbed in.
The engine roared to life as she took them out onto the open road, going twice
the speed limit without fear of accident or police.
“So, why haven’t you eaten?”
“I told you, nobody is out and those who are, scurry away
from other people faster than a vamp can run.”
“So.”
“So?”
Vivian swept her hand through the open window. “Chase them.”
“Chase- Viv, we aren’t animals hunting our prey.”
“That is exactly what we are, Marco, and if you had waited
much longer to feed, you would’ve done it without thought. The hungrier you
get, the more humanity you lose. Don’t let yourself go more than a week again.
Keep bagged on hand if you have to.” A shadow crossed Vivian’s face that had
nothing to do with the streetlights they passed under. “Decades ago, I knew a
vamp a little younger than you who tried to go a month without eating. We found
him in an elementary school. He had gotten twenty or thirty of the little
buggers before we got him stopped. It took a lot of money and fast talking to
keep the humans from suspecting.”
Marco’s white complexion took on a gray hue. “What happens
if I get that bad?”
Interesting
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