Page 2 of Vampires and Violas

“It’s an effect of the virus,” Marilyn says. “But you need to fight the cravings.”

“Why, though?” Dylan asks. “We already take blood. What difference does it make if we’re first, second, or final-stage vampires?”

He’s about my age, in his late twenties, with wire-rimmed glasses, a leather laptop satchel, and a green-as-goo smoothie that appears to be permanently glued to his hand. He brings one to every meeting.

Marilyn nods to his cup. “Well, for starters, final-stage vampires have trouble digesting plant-based foods. You wouldn’t be able to drink your smoothies anymore.”

“It’s not like I enjoy it—and I wouldn’t need antioxidants and vitamins if I were a vampire,” Dylan argues. “Besides, I’ve heard NIHA is working on that.”

Nobody needs a pond-sludge smoothie. There are better ways to hide your prescription blood and get your nutrients.

“They are experimenting with a few medications,” Marilyn answers patiently. “But vampires already take several drugs for mood swings, cravings, and anxiety. Not to mention the prescription blood. Do you want to live your life dependent on drugs? A verylonglife?”

“Did my boyfriend stop taking the pills for his cravings?” Shanda asks suddenly. “Is that why he wants to bite me so badly?”

I press my lips together, reminding myself I’m an adult and shouldn’t snicker. A few others in the room aren’t as successful.

“Blood cravings are different. The desire you’re speaking of is fueled by…” Marilyn looks uncomfortable. “Well, a vampire’s natural impulse to grow their line.”

“So, we’re hormonal?” Brooke says, her cheeks turning pink.

“Basically…yes.”

Well, this is an awkward session.

“Speaking of that, do vampires actually become sterile in the final stage?” Dylan asks. “The pamphlets said pre-vamps can have kids, but vampires cannot. So, no birth control needed?”

“That’s correct,” Marilyn answers, looking like she’d like to get this session back on track.

“Well, that’s a perk,” Dylan says crassly to the man beside him, a longtime group member whose name I can never remember.

The man doesn’t respond, but he looks like he wants to be here as much as I do.

“Unless you’dliketo have children,” Marilyn snaps, which is out of character.

Excluding Dylan, the attendees’ faces shadow with sympathy, and my eyes stray to the picture of Marilyn and her husband on the mantle. It’s just the two of them at a theme park, smiling for the camera.

“You’re married to a vampire, aren’t you?” Brooke asks, stating the obvious. “So, you can’t have kids?”

“Correct,” Marilyn answers curtly.

The group goes quiet.

Our leader clears her throat, donning a smile like she didn’t just share something painful with the group. “It looks like we’re just about out of time. We’ll meet again next week, this time at Piper’s house. I’ll email you the address on Monday.”

I smile when people look over at me. They nod and wave their thanks. Several are friendly, but the others are merely curious. My introduction to the pre-vamp lifestyle has been chaotic, and most people in the group are aware of my story now.

At least the part of the story I’m willing to share.

Do they know I fell for my conservator and then found out he hid the fact he’s a final-stage vampire, and now I’m nursing a very serious broken heart?

They do not.

But theydoknow my vampire stalker murdered my ex-boyfriend, and then his contact at the vampire regulating organization, NIHA, covered up his crimes. It’s been quite the scandal.

We stand, saying our casual goodbyes, and I join Cassian.

“You look surly.” The vampire smiles. “Thinking of Noah again?”

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