Midnight Bites (The Morganville Vampires)(110)

Well, I’d done what Amelie had asked me to do, so if it didn’t work, they couldn’t blame it on me.

But I did feel great. Surprisingly, the canned stuff was better than the bagged stuff. Almost better than when Eve had let me have a taste, straight from the tap, if that’s not too sick.

I felt them watching us. Eve and I weren’t the most popular team-up in town; humans and vampires didn’t mix, not like that. We were predator and prey, and the lines were pretty strictly drawn. In vampire circles, I was looked at as either pitiful or perverted. I could imagine what it was like on Eve’s side. Morganville’s not full of vampire wannabes—more a town full of Buffys in the making.

Our relationship wasn’t easy, but it was real, and I was going to hang on to it for as long as I possibly could.

“What do you want to do?” Eve asked, as we stepped outside into the cool Morganville early evening.

“Walk,” I said. “For starters.” I let her fill in what might come after, and she smiled in a way that told me it wasn’t a tough guess at all.

? ? ?

Later, it occurred to me that I felt jittery, and it was getting worse.

We were strolling out in Founder’s Square, which is vampire territory; Eve could come and go from here with or without me, because she had a Founder’s Pin and was pretty much as untouchable as a human got, in terms of being hunted—by vampires who obeyed the rules, anyway. But it was nice to walk with her. At night, Morganville is kind of magical—bright clouds of stars overhead in a pitch-black sky, cool breezes, and, at least in this part of town, everybody is on their best behavior.

Vampires liked to walk, and jog, along the dark paths. We were regularly passed by others. Most nodded. A few stopped to say hello. Some—the most progressive—even said hello to Eve, as if she was a real person to them.

I had a wild impulse to jog, to run, but Eve couldn’t keep up if I did, even in her practical boots. Holding that urge back was taking all my concentration, so while she talked, I just mostly pretended to listen. She was telling some story about Shane and Claire, I guessed; our two human housemates had gotten themselves into trouble again, but this time it was minor, and funny. I was glad. I didn’t feel much like charging to anybody’s rescue right now.

Up ahead, I saw another couple approaching us on the path. The woman was unmistakably the Founder of Morganville, Amelie; only Amelie could dress that way and get away with it. She was wearing a white jacket and skirt, and high heels. If she’d stood still, she’d have looked like a marble statue; her skin was only a few shades off from the clothes, and her hair was the same pale color. Beautiful, but icy and eerie.

Walking next to her, hands clasped behind his back, was Oliver. He looked much older than her, but I didn’t think he was; she’d died young, and he’d died at late middle age, but they were both ancient. He had his long, graying hair tied back, and was wearing a black leather jacket and dark pants. He was scowling, but then, he usually was.

Weird, seeing the two of them together like this. They were usually polite enemies, sometimes right at each other’s throats (literally). Not tonight, though. Not here.

Amelie glowed in the moonlight, ghost-bright, and when she smiled, she didn’t look cold at all. She inclined her head to us. “Michael. Eve. Thank you for doing the little demonstration today. It was much appreciated.”

“Ma’am,” I said, and returned the salute. Eve waved. We would have kept on walking, but Amelie stopped, and Oliver was a solid block in front of us, so we stopped as well. I said, “Hope you’re enjoying the walk. It’s a nice night.”

Lame, but it was all I had for small talk. I was aching to keep moving. I couldn’t keep still, in fact, and I drummed my fingers against the side of my leg in a nervous rhythm. I saw Oliver notice it. His scowl deepened.

“It’s turned quite cool,” Amelie said. Like Oliver, she was zeroing in on my trembling fingers. “I heard you sampled the new product today.”

“Yeah, it’s great,” I said. “I got another one to go.” The can was heavy in my pocket, and I’d been thinking about it the entire evening. I’d found myself actually wrapping my hand around it inside my pocket, but I’d managed to stop myself from pulling the tab. So far. “Very convenient. You ought to think about selling them in six-packs.”

“Well, the modern age seems to demand convenience.” Amelie shrugged. “But we’ll see how the single-can sales go. So many wanted access at odd hours to the blood bank that automation seemed the most logical solution. You don’t mind the taste of the preservatives?”

“No, it’s good stuff,” I said. I remembered that I hadn’t liked it at first, but now, for some reason, it seemed like that memory was wrong—as if it had actually been delicious but I hadn’t been ready for it. “It tastes better than the bagged stuff.” I almost said and better than from the vein, but Eve was right there, and that would embarrass her on two levels, not just one. First, that I was telling people she was letting me bite her, and second, that somehow her blood wasn’t good enough. I was able to stop in time, barely. “Has anybody else tried it?”

“Really, Glass, do you think we put it out for public consumption without testing?” Oliver snapped. “It’s been tried, analyzed, and tested to death. I cannot imagine a more boring process. Two years, from concept to actual delivery. Half the vampires in Morganville have been involved in taste tests.”