Robin lay there, on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. It was pitch black in the room, though with their preternatural sight any kind of light illuminated like a moon. The light of a TV on standby, or a phone charging, or of a digital alarm clock was as bright as if the actual light had been left on.
But it was easier to talk in the dark. He closed his eyes, his voice the only indication that he was still there.
”Kind of the same way it happened for you,” he said. It was uncanny, the similarities. Both times his own fault, really – though Lorelai would have claimed differently. ”Before I was a vampire blood doll – feeding my blood to blood thieves and other vampires who have that particular taste – I was a human blood doll. A good friend of mine, Lorelai, who I’d met ages ago, when we were both human, she’d been turned. She was a vampire. One night, she was starving. She didn’t like taking human blood, hated it. She’d never – rarely – fed from the vein. She had a boyfriend who’d ‘heal’ her, so she didn’t have to. He wasn’t around, and couldn’t. I insisted. I told her she’d be okay, it’d be fine. I was addicted to it, to feeling that high of a vampire’s bite. I wanted it so much that I didn’t think that there would be consequences. I’d gotten away with it thus far. Anyway, she didn’t control herself. Couldn’t. And I didn’t stop her, I liked it so much. I was too far gone by the time I realised she’d taken too much,” he shrugged in the dark, even though Maddison couldn’t see him.
For all Lorelai’s guilt, she hadn’t really stuck around to be a supportive presence. He’d seen her every now and again, had stayed in her apartment for a while, but she spent more time with her growling boyfriend than she did with Robin. He sometimes wondered if the ape had her under his thumb, telling her she couldn’t see Robin. Lorelai seemed the sort who could be manipulated in that way. Now, he had no idea where she was.
”She’s not around anymore. But you should meet Prudence…” he said, trailing off. That in itself was a story. He left it at that. Maddison might have questions. Or observations. He lay there in wait, dozing.
But it was easier to talk in the dark. He closed his eyes, his voice the only indication that he was still there.
”Kind of the same way it happened for you,” he said. It was uncanny, the similarities. Both times his own fault, really – though Lorelai would have claimed differently. ”Before I was a vampire blood doll – feeding my blood to blood thieves and other vampires who have that particular taste – I was a human blood doll. A good friend of mine, Lorelai, who I’d met ages ago, when we were both human, she’d been turned. She was a vampire. One night, she was starving. She didn’t like taking human blood, hated it. She’d never – rarely – fed from the vein. She had a boyfriend who’d ‘heal’ her, so she didn’t have to. He wasn’t around, and couldn’t. I insisted. I told her she’d be okay, it’d be fine. I was addicted to it, to feeling that high of a vampire’s bite. I wanted it so much that I didn’t think that there would be consequences. I’d gotten away with it thus far. Anyway, she didn’t control herself. Couldn’t. And I didn’t stop her, I liked it so much. I was too far gone by the time I realised she’d taken too much,” he shrugged in the dark, even though Maddison couldn’t see him.
For all Lorelai’s guilt, she hadn’t really stuck around to be a supportive presence. He’d seen her every now and again, had stayed in her apartment for a while, but she spent more time with her growling boyfriend than she did with Robin. He sometimes wondered if the ape had her under his thumb, telling her she couldn’t see Robin. Lorelai seemed the sort who could be manipulated in that way. Now, he had no idea where she was.
”She’s not around anymore. But you should meet Prudence…” he said, trailing off. That in itself was a story. He left it at that. Maddison might have questions. Or observations. He lay there in wait, dozing.
