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to Beyonce. Mr. Kenner reads The Times and has recently started to dye the flecks of grey in his hair…”
    “Okay, Kiera, I think you’ve made your point,” Murphy said. “Are you definitely sure about what you’re telling -”
    “There’s only one way to find out,” Potter said as he shoulder-barged the back door open and stepped inside. Glancing around to make sure we weren’t being watched, we followed him.
    “If nothing else, Kiera’s right about that roast chicken,” Isidor said, sniffing the air.
    “Potter, have a look around. See if there is anyone home,” Murphy told him.
    “I’ve already told you…” I started, looking at Murphy.
    “Don’t take it personally,” Murphy said, “I just want to make sure.”
    “Like he said, Kiera,” Potter smirked, “don‘t take it personally, the guy’s just having some trust issues.” But before Murphy could say anything back, Potter had disappeared on his search of the farmhouse.
    We were in a kitchen with a cooker, fridge, and a wooden table and chairs. I could see a half-eaten plate of food and a knife and fork. To my delight, I saw a cooked chicken, and smiled to myself. It had been half-eaten, and had slices of meat cut from it. It smelt wonderful. My stomach began to rumble and my mouth watered at the sight of it.
    Without any hesitation, Luke shot his arm out and tore off one of its fleshy legs. He raised it to his mouth and began to devour it like a ravenous wolf.
    “Do you think you should be eating that” I asked him.
    Luke made no reply, his mouth was full of chicken, and he had a look of ecstasy splashed across his face. Seeing this, I reached out and ripped the other leg free and rammed it into my mouth. It was still warm and its taste was wonderful. Then Murphy was pulling at it and stuffing chunks of meat into his mouth. The three of us stood there, the meat’s juices running from our chins, as we chomped our way through the chicken. Isidor looked at us, then realising that within moments the chicken would be gone, he started to eat, too.
    Potter reappeared in the kitchen doorway and said, “Like she said, the house is empty - you selfish pigs! What about me!” Then elbowing us out of the way, he snatched up what was left of the meatless carcass and began to groan.
    “I can’t believe it – you’ve eaten it all!” he said.
    Ignoring him, I licked my fingers clean and went to the fridge. Inside I found a bottle of ice cold milk. The chicken had made me thirsty, so I gulped down as much as I could.
    Luke appeared beside me and said, “It didn’t take you long to get the hang of this stealing lark, did it?”
    “I’m not proud of it,” I said, but my hunger kept my normal feelings of guilt at bay. I handed him the bottle and he raised it to his lips. I watched his Adams apple bob up and down as he gulped from the bottle. When his thirst was quenched, he put the bottle down and I wiped a white, milky moustache from his top lip with my finger. He then passed the bottle to Isidor.
    “How are you feeling?” I asked Luke. “Better now I’ve eaten.” “I didn’t mean that,” I said. “Your cravings – for blood?”   “It’s not ideal, but the blood we’re taking from those vampires is kinda doing the trick,” Luke explained. “Murphy and I will manage – we have to.”
    “What about Potter? Do you think he will get by on just their blood?”
    “I hope so,” Luke said, looking at me. “He’s more ferocious than normal – but that’s just him coping with his cravings. As long as there are plenty of vampires for him to rip into – he should be okay.”
    Although I didn’t want to come in contact with any more of those vampires, there was a small part of me that hoped we did – for Potter’s sake.
    I crossed back over to the table where Potter was gnawing on the bones of the chicken. Murphy was reading a newspaper that he’d found on the kitchen table. Looking up at me I could see concern – no it was more