One Night Burns (The Vampires of Livix, #1) by J Gordon Smith Page A

the grass and gouges left in the dirt from dragging heavy amplifiers back and forth. I pictured Bethany over the spot of the grass I last saw her alive. So pretty. Such a great friend. And now gone! We stayed until I ran out of tissues. Garin held me and I fit seamlessly in the hollow of his chest with his arm around me.
    “Who could do this?” I demanded.
    “The police and investigators will find out.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes.” Garin squeezed my hand.
    “You know, while vampires seem romantic and sexy, this is what they do. Even if not the case for Bethany. This type of thing – what you do.”
    “Not what I do, at all.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “An African tribe called the Massai. The soil and weather where they live are too poor to support them with farming and foraging. At some point they began a practice of nicking the arteries of their grazing cattle and collecting blood. Not enough to weaken their cattle. But enough to sustain themselves. They mix it with milk. And that keeps them alive through the harshest times of the year.”
    Garin looked far off continuing in low tones I could hear but his words wouldn’t carry far to others, “The vampire community set up a company in the late eighteenth century after the beef and pork slaughter houses consolidated and mechanized new factories. This company negotiated with the slaughter houses for a supply of the kill floor blood and paid more than other possible buyers but they had to carefully handle the product and ensure cleanliness. The company acted like a medical blood products firm ensuring maintenance of high quality levels. That change revolutionized the vampire-human relationship. Mix it into several flavors, bottle it, and ship it to vampire distributors.”
    He brought his eyes back to mine, “Like human intensive farming where one farmer can feed a hundred and twenty five when as little as a century ago a farmer barely produced more food than required to feed his own family. Now two percent of our population that remains in farming produces so much grain we ship the excess around the world and give it away. This system and process allowed the vampire community to expand over the last century. Some old ones remain, or young ones on joy rides, that consistently kill. But mostly we have become civilized. Also removed are the pitchforks and torches that decimated the vampires through the centuries. As a group that’s what vampires fear most deeply. Pitchforks and torches keep most of the vampire community in check. We fear the population that we live among rising against us in the fragile balance between predator and prey.”
    “Like cheetahs could be easily killed if the gazelle didn’t run but fought as a group with their long wicked horns.”
    “Exactly – pitchfork horns.”
     
    I ran out of tissues. I’m not hungry but Garin suggested I stay put and he’d go to the grocery store across the street. I can see he’s keeping a close eye on me as he moves through the store.
    He came back with a hot burrito, a diet drink, and a box of tissues in a small shopping bag. I took the food from the sack and pushed into the empty bag all the soggy bits of spent tissues I’d been cramming wetly in my purse and collecting on my lap. Then I could worry the paper bag will disintegrate. I used hand cleaning gel before unwrapped the burrito, not hungry before but now I am.
    “Thanks,” I nodded to the food, “and thanks for being patient with me.”
    “Of course.”
     
    We watched cars go around the square until the sun set. The times Bethany and I spent together filled my thoughts. Sitting in cars talking about boys. Trying to figure out their wily ways. Never succeeding because their confusion ranked as high as ours and neither group brave enough to actually say who they liked to them directly. We shared dreams of what we wanted in life. Picket fences, big wedding dresses, kids? “Maybe when we’re really old – like 30!” she said, but that