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turning into a vampire, but all I want is to feel better. I latch onto his wrist as if I’m a starving vampire myself.
    “Good girl,” he says, petting my hair.
    He lets me drink for a few minutes until he sees I’ve had enough, then he pulls his wrist away and a few moments later, it heals in front of my eyes. I shouldn’t be shocked by this because all my pain is gone. In fact, I feel better than I remember ever feeling in my entire life. I feel like I could run a marathon. Everything is sharper.
    I thought my vision had been fine before, but right now it’s, oh my God, I see details in the individual fibers in his coat. I hear crickets that somehow I know are miles away. I smell the dishwashing liquid inside the dishwasher downstairs.
    “Your senses won’t be this sharp all the time. Just for a few hours after you drink. My understanding is that the experience is quite addicting to humans.”
    His understanding is right. I close my eyes and touch the side of my throat where he bit me, and I’m not surprised to feel nothing there. No puncture marks. It’s as if the bite never happened, like it was all a dream. But when I open my eyes, he’s still here.
    “I thought you said you couldn’t read my thoughts once I’d drunk from you?” Was he lying?
    Christian laughs. “Oh pet, you are adorable. You think I don’t know the body language of someone who can see and hear and smell things they’ve never experienced before? I wasn’t reading your mind. I was reading you. Just because I won’t know your exact thoughts as they appear in your head, don’t think you’ve become a mystery I can’t unravel. You have no idea how expressive your face is. I can read it just as easily as I could your thoughts.”
    Silence descends between us for a minute or two, then he says, “Would you like to go out?”
    “Out?” I know he said he’d take me out, but I just got here.
    “I don’t like being cooped up all the time at night. This is my middle of the day. Did you sit at home and not do anything all day? You think I spend eternity in this house reading and brooding about my lost humanity?”
    I shake my head quickly, hoping I haven’t pulled him out of a good mood. What I’ve just experienced with him is like Stockholm syndrome on speed. My entire existence rests in his hands. Assuming he’s smart about how he secures me during the daytime, I know there is no chance of escape. What’s more, I’ve had a taste of the depth of suffering he can introduce to me simply by denying me his blood right after feeding. The only thing I want to do is appease him.
    I’m not even scared about the sex. I don’t know when it’s coming, probably soon, but we are way past such mundane issues as losing my virginity to my vampire captor.
    “We should shop for you. Would you like that?”
    It’s ten at night. What’s open this late? Nothing in this town.
    “Pet, I asked you a question.”
    I don’t think; I just answer, “Y-yes, Master.” He’s not a moron. He’s got to know what time it is. Hell, maybe he’s taking me to Wal-mart. Just because he wants to shop for me, and just because he lives in this unbelievable gothtastic mansion, doesn’t mean he’s above shopping at Wal-mart, I guess.
    In a minor fit of hysteria, I wish he was still in my head because then I wouldn’t have to ask or say ridiculous things. I know I’m not going to work up the nerve to ask about Wal-mart. I’ll just quietly go along with him and wait to see where we end up. But he told the truth. He has no idea what I’m thinking right now. I test the theory anyway just to be sure.
    I’m going to rip your heart out and lay it to dry in the sunlight, you motherfucking psycho.
    Nope. Not even a flash of recognition. His eyes are their normal dark chocolate brown, and he’s getting up from the chair. I’m still on my knees. I was too afraid to get up after I’d drunk from him. Some weird survival instinct has caused me to divine these small