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his hand and blood on his throat, Nick who wanted me to bite him again. Again!
      Not only could I live through car crashes and electrocution, not only could I toss grown men like they were magazines, but I could make men want me. They looked at me and wanted me, didn't care if I drained them dry as long as they could fuck me while I did it.
      I got ready to yowl with horror and frustration, when I got a grip…
      (you've overreacted enough the last two days)
      …and instead picked Nick up and carried him to my room like he was a blonde, male Scarlett and I was an undead Rhett.  
    * * * * *
      "So it's true."
      "What is, Nick?"
      "Vampires."
      "...yes. It's true. I'm really, really sorry."
      He propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at me. We'd been lying in bed, side by side, for about ten minutes. I was both relieved and frightened when he started talking. "Don’t be sorry. That was the best of my life. Did you—" He paused. "Did you get enough to...eat?"
      I winced. "Yes. I'm fine. Thank you." And now, the incredible awkwardness between two acquaintances who decided to have sex and now have to chat. This was new to me. I'd never fucked anyone I wasn't in love with before. And fucking was about all it was, too. "Uh...are you okay?"
      He touched his neck. I was amazed to see the bite mark was almost entirely healed. "It hardly even hurts."
      "Like a dog, I apparently have an enzyme in my saliva that speeds up healing."
      He burst out laughing. Oh, thank goodness. Then he was rolling over on top of me and nibbling my throat. "Time for another drink?" he asked, and the naked eagerness in his voice made my heart lurch.
      "No." I pushed him, but he immediately settled back on top of me. "Absolutely not."
      "I don't mind—"
      "Dammit! You do, I bet, way down deep inside you, you probably mind plenty. Nick, I bit you! I drank your blood and I didn't even ask."
      "And I took you," he said quietly, "and didn't even ask."
      I snorted. "Trust me, you didn't do a thing I didn't allow. You couldn't have hurt me and you sure as shit can't force me."
      He was still lying on top of me and I could feel his groin pressing against mine; he was throbbing and hard as a pipe. Amazing! The guy had to be in his forties. "Come on," he said coaxingly. "Let me in...and I'll let you in."
      "No no no . Never again, Detective Barry, absolutely not. It'd be like rape. It is rape."
      He laughed at me, but stopped when I asked, "How'd you feel about me before I died?"
      "Uh...I thought you were great. Really cute, too."
      "Ever want to slam me up against a wall and screw the bejeezus out of me while I drank your blood?"
      "Uh..."
      "Exactly. You never. But you're ready to go right now, and you don't even mind if I drink your blood while we screw. Hello? This is not normal behavior. It's not me you want. It's—it's whatever makes me a vampire. A supernatural gift or whatever—but it's not me . It's my undead pheromones. And that's why we're done."
      He protested, but I turned a deaf ear, helped him find his gun, dressed him, and had to bodily push him out my front door. Even so, he hammered on it for five minutes, begging to be let back in.
      I fled to my bedroom and put a pillow over my head, but I could still hear him.
      In the movies, vampires are always these all-powerful jerks who use people like Kleenex. Now I could see why. A clean-cut Boy Next Door nice guy who lets you drink his blood while he fucks you raw, then begs for more of the same, will let you do anything.  
      Anything at all.
     
    CHAPTER NINE
     
      "Die, bloodsucking hellspawn!"
      My eyes flashed open and I saw the stake descending. Whoever was holding it was probably moving pretty fast, but to me it seemed like slow motion. I grabbed the wrist holding the stake and tugged.
      The woman flew over my head and sailed across the room. She could have been hurt, but she landed on the futon mattress which she must have