Read Hunger Chronicles (Book 1): Life Bites for Free Online Page B

back at them.
    John leans in close, his voice pitched low for my ears alone. “So what do you say?”
    I glance up at him. He gestures over to the counter of non-perishable goods that are left out for between-meal snacks.
    I shrug. “Whatever.”
    I move across the room and lean my hip against the counter, watching “Yes, Sir” John slough off the rest of his killer mask and tie on the apron strings of domesticity. He plucks out two strips of jerky from a cracked Tupperware container, handing me one of them, and then grabs two mugs off the hooks on the wall, fills them in the sink, and pops them both in the microwave.
    Three minutes on high. We remain silent the whole time, each of us gnawing on the tough strip of dried out meat. I wish it were fresh. Bloody and rare. But beggars can’t be choosers.
    While we wait, the other men in the room finish with their meal. With a last curious glance at me, they leave. John and I are alone. I’m not sure if this is better or worse.
    “So,” I say, “how do you want to do this?”
    “Do what?” He pulls the hot mugs out of the microwave.
    “The interrogation. Are we really going to play this buddy-buddy getting-to-know-you routine, or can we just cut the crap and move on to the list of questions.”
    “Paranoid?” he asks, dumping two heaping spoonful’s of dark powder into the hot water.
    “You going to tell me that Convict, uh, Brice didn’t put you up to this?”
    The spoon clinks against the side of the mugs as he stirs. “Why would Brice do that?”
    I tick off the points on one hand. “Because he doesn’t like me, doesn’t trust me, and would like nothing better than a reason to have me kicked out of here… preferably in the middle of the day.”
    “You underestimate Brice.”
    My brow wings up.
    “Brice may be all about Brice, he might find working with you a tad unnerving, but as long as you can make his team, and hence him, look good, you’re golden.”
    “So what you’re saying is that it’s just idiots like Roy I have to worry about.”
    The spoon clatters. His hand comes up. I flinch, automatically sinking into a bent-knee position. For a moment, we both remain suspended mid-motion, then he reaches forward, his fingers light as he brushes the wound on my temple.
    “This isn’t healing very fast.” He glances down at my shredded shirt and the creamy skin beneath. “Comparatively.”
    “Head wounds are a bitch.” And despite the few sips I’d gotten, it isn’t enough. My metabolism is slowing. Lethargy slipping in. The jerky will help, a little, but what my body needs is blood. Human blood. Or zombie blood at least.
    He drops his hand, folding his arms across his chest. “Must hurt.”
    I straighten, lifting then dropping my shoulders as I tear off a hunk of jerky. “Vampire, remember?”
    “Vampires don’t feel pain?”
    I squirm. We do, but I like to keep that secret. Easier to impress your enemies if they think you’re tougher than you are. And since I’m not sure where John falls yet on the finding me useful or tossing the freak out scale…
    “Vampires eat, obviously.”
    “We drink, too.” I bare my fangs for effect.
    He ignores me, opening a cabinet over the microwave. “Cream? Sugar?”
    “You’re a strange one. And no, neither.”
    “How am I strange?” He closes the cabinet door without grabbing either powdered substance.
    “Well let’s see, let’s start with you standing here alone in a room with a hungry vampire trying to strike up conversation.”
    “Going to bite me?”
    I shake my head.
    “Then why should I be worried?”
    “Most people would be.”
    “I’m not most people.” He hands me one of the mugs, handle first. “So what’s up with your hive? Why’d you leave?”
    And the inquisition begins. I need to be careful here. Yes I’d come to warn these people about my queen’s plans, but I need to prove myself first. A useful tool is harder to throw out, and these people have more immediate things to