Spirit Sanguine Read Online Free PDF Page B

vampires don’t need all that much blood to sustain themselves; they have absolutely no reason to kill. On the other hand, if they start rampaging like in the movies, it’s all torches-and-pitchforks time. Homicidal vampires die, while the ones who play nice remain. Tell me that’s not survival of the fittest.”
    “So all the vampires of Chicago are nice, socially acceptable, friendly neighborhood bloodsuckers?”
    “I didn’t say that. They’re spread between nice and nasty about the same as regular people, but there are some unwritten laws. Like when you turn someone, you’re responsible for them, at least for the first year or so of their undead lives. That’s for everyone’s good, since it’s a hard adjustment. And you teach them all the other rules and customs.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like you don’t go around attracting attention and leaving dead humans around.”
    “And what if someone doesn’t play by the rules?”
    “They’re likely to find themselves going from undead to truly dead.”
    Gabe snorted. “Frontier justice. I like it.”
    “I thought you would. Hey, you hungry? I’ve got food.”
    “You went out and bought groceries?”
    “Yeah, call me an eternal optimist.”
    Harvey rolled off the bed, found his discarded jeans and hopped into them on his way out. Gabe followed, admiring the fine curves and grooves of Harvey’s naked back. The everyday intimacy of the scene was deceptive—Gabe could almost imagine they were two regular people. But they weren’t. Gabe was charting an unfamiliar territory, and the natives could turn hostile, no matter what Harvey had said about natural selection.
    The cupboard and the fridge held a mystifying medley of food items.
    “I ran into the store and randomly grabbed some stuff,” Harvey explained.
    “I can tell.”
    “I haven’t been into a supermarket in years, and I hate those fluorescent lights.”
    “Because of the UV radiation?”
    “Nah. It’s not strong enough to be a bother, but it gives everything a greenish tinge—people look like zombies. It’s creepy.”
    “You don’t see things the same either, do you?”
    “As I did alive? No. It’s like seeing the world through a filter. Some things are enhanced; others get duller. It was fucking strange at first, but with time you get used to almost anything.”
    Wasn’t that the truth. Gabe ended up fixing himself an omelet with cheese and whole-grain toast. Harvey’s nostrils flared as he inhaled the scents.
    “What would happen if you ate?” Gabe asked.
    “Comes out at the other end the same as it went in. Kinda disturbing.”
    “That must suck.”
    “Yeah, but there’s a flip side. When you kiss me, when I lick your skin, I can taste who you are. That’s how I knew you’d be all right when we first met.”
    “We didn’t kiss then.”
    “You forget, you were out for a while,” Harvey said coyly.
    “You didn’t!”
    “Just a peck. I had to be sure.”
    “Oh.”
    “By the way, the condom was unnecessary. No STD can pass between human and vampire. There are upsides to being undead.”
    “I didn’t know that.”
    “It was a nice gesture, though. It meant you considered the possibility.”
    “Or maybe I always carry a condom.”
    “Maybe you do. How are the eggs?”
    “Not bad. Would be better with bacon.”
    Harvey chuckled. “Old shopping habits die hard. You get your own bacon.”
    “You don’t mind if I put my bacon next to your vegetarian vampire cocktail in the fridge?”
    “I’ve never been militant about it, but I’d appreciate if you kept it on a different shelf.”
    “By the way, aren’t you gonna drink that thing?” Gabe would rather not have Harvey get hungry around him, vegetarian or not.
    “Don’t need it. I only have to feed about once a week.”
    Harvey’s phone made a sound like a foghorn. He dug it out of his pocket and answered it with a friendly, “Hey,” but the smile fell off his face almost immediately. “No, I haven’t, not