demanded.
"What part of 'none of your business' do you not get?"
"Ha!" Marc wiped off his lips and began refilling another glass with yet another perfect rainbow. "We have to live with you guys, you know."
"No," I said pointedly. "You don't."
"What's
that
supposed to mean?" Jessica asked.
I rubbed my eyebrows. "Nothing. It's not supposed to mean anything. Sinclair's heart isn't broken."
"He's been moping around this place like he heard yellow was the new black," she added.
"We worked that out. We have a plan for him getting his blood."
Marc snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure it's not awful."
I threw my hands in the air. "So, what? What are you telling me? Start drinking again? Hurt more people? Maybe kill someone by accident if I go too far?"
"What happened between Alonzo and Sophie won't necessarily happen to you."
"I
knooow
," I said. I was a little astonished. One thing had nothing to do with the other. I had started my hunger strike way before Sophie even got to town. Right?
"Moderation," Marc was babbling. "Everything in moderation. Besides, aren't you the only vampire who only has to drink once or twice a week? How are you going to kill somebody doing that?"
"I plan," I said grimly, "on being the only vampire who doesn't have to drink at all."
"Well, it's making you nuts," Jessica snapped, "at the worst possible time for me. And if I find one more piece of chewing gum on the banister, I'm evicting you. I figure you've gone through twenty packs in the last two weeks alone."
"You're counting my gum wads?" I felt my eyes narrow. I didn't make them do it; they sort of went all squinty on their own. "That doesn't strike you as, oh, I dunno, anal-retentive?"
"Doesn't your depositing them all over the house," she snapped back, annoyingly unafraid, "strike you as incredibly selfish and slovenly?"
"For the lasht time, thish ish none of your bithneth."
What the—? Horrified, I felt my mouth.
Marc was pointing at me, eyes big. "Your fangs are out! You got so pissed your fangs came out!"
"I thought they only came out when you smelled blood," Jessica said, still remarkably unmoved.
"They do," I replied, feeling. Cripes, it felt like I had a mouthful of needles. "But Sinclair can make his come out whenever he wanth. Maybe thith ith part of a new power."
"And maybe you're, I dunno,
losing it
!"
"Calm down. Thereth nothing to worry about."
"
Nothing to worry about
?" Marc was as hysterical as a woman who missed all the really good Thanksgiving sales. "You should see yourself!"
"Well, maybe I'll go take a walk." Oh, and run into that cute Mrs. Lentz in her bouncy, thin-strapped jogging bra while she walks her border collie. Normally I went for guys but her shoulders were so lovely and bare—
"You can't go out looking like
that
."
I was hurt. Well, pretending to be. "Are you thaying I thould be athamed? Thith is who I am now."
"Yes," Marc said, and Jessica swallowed her laugh. "You should be very, very ashamed. You should go to your room and hide your head until the shame passes. And until you don't look like you're trying out for the next
Dracula
remake."
A sly thought popped into my head, there and gone, one
Eric would understand, and so would Alonzo
too slippery to hold on to. Probably just as well. These days, none of my thoughts were nice ones.
"Doeth anybody have thum gum? I'm freth out."
"Sure," Jessica said brightly, as if a wonderful idea had just occurred to her, "and hey, maybe this time you can stick the wads in a garbage can, if you want to avoid eviction." She slid a brand-new pack of strawberry Bubblicious toward me.
"I'll second that motion," Marc mumbled. "Honestly, Betsy, do you know what they
put
in that stuff? The artificial gunk that slides down your throat, leaving the hard, gray crud behind?"
"Thut up," I told him, reaching for the pack. "Thith ithn't
"What part of 'none of your business' do you not get?"
"Ha!" Marc wiped off his lips and began refilling another glass with yet another perfect rainbow. "We have to live with you guys, you know."
"No," I said pointedly. "You don't."
"What's
that
supposed to mean?" Jessica asked.
I rubbed my eyebrows. "Nothing. It's not supposed to mean anything. Sinclair's heart isn't broken."
"He's been moping around this place like he heard yellow was the new black," she added.
"We worked that out. We have a plan for him getting his blood."
Marc snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure it's not awful."
I threw my hands in the air. "So, what? What are you telling me? Start drinking again? Hurt more people? Maybe kill someone by accident if I go too far?"
"What happened between Alonzo and Sophie won't necessarily happen to you."
"I
knooow
," I said. I was a little astonished. One thing had nothing to do with the other. I had started my hunger strike way before Sophie even got to town. Right?
"Moderation," Marc was babbling. "Everything in moderation. Besides, aren't you the only vampire who only has to drink once or twice a week? How are you going to kill somebody doing that?"
"I plan," I said grimly, "on being the only vampire who doesn't have to drink at all."
"Well, it's making you nuts," Jessica snapped, "at the worst possible time for me. And if I find one more piece of chewing gum on the banister, I'm evicting you. I figure you've gone through twenty packs in the last two weeks alone."
"You're counting my gum wads?" I felt my eyes narrow. I didn't make them do it; they sort of went all squinty on their own. "That doesn't strike you as, oh, I dunno, anal-retentive?"
"Doesn't your depositing them all over the house," she snapped back, annoyingly unafraid, "strike you as incredibly selfish and slovenly?"
"For the lasht time, thish ish none of your bithneth."
What the—? Horrified, I felt my mouth.
Marc was pointing at me, eyes big. "Your fangs are out! You got so pissed your fangs came out!"
"I thought they only came out when you smelled blood," Jessica said, still remarkably unmoved.
"They do," I replied, feeling. Cripes, it felt like I had a mouthful of needles. "But Sinclair can make his come out whenever he wanth. Maybe thith ith part of a new power."
"And maybe you're, I dunno,
losing it
!"
"Calm down. Thereth nothing to worry about."
"
Nothing to worry about
?" Marc was as hysterical as a woman who missed all the really good Thanksgiving sales. "You should see yourself!"
"Well, maybe I'll go take a walk." Oh, and run into that cute Mrs. Lentz in her bouncy, thin-strapped jogging bra while she walks her border collie. Normally I went for guys but her shoulders were so lovely and bare—
"You can't go out looking like
that
."
I was hurt. Well, pretending to be. "Are you thaying I thould be athamed? Thith is who I am now."
"Yes," Marc said, and Jessica swallowed her laugh. "You should be very, very ashamed. You should go to your room and hide your head until the shame passes. And until you don't look like you're trying out for the next
Dracula
remake."
A sly thought popped into my head, there and gone, one
Eric would understand, and so would Alonzo
too slippery to hold on to. Probably just as well. These days, none of my thoughts were nice ones.
"Doeth anybody have thum gum? I'm freth out."
"Sure," Jessica said brightly, as if a wonderful idea had just occurred to her, "and hey, maybe this time you can stick the wads in a garbage can, if you want to avoid eviction." She slid a brand-new pack of strawberry Bubblicious toward me.
"I'll second that motion," Marc mumbled. "Honestly, Betsy, do you know what they
put
in that stuff? The artificial gunk that slides down your throat, leaving the hard, gray crud behind?"
"Thut up," I told him, reaching for the pack. "Thith ithn't
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