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Authors: MaryJanice Davidson
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was waiting until I got out of the way so he could jump without taking the chance of splattering himself all over me. I stopped walking.
The building was an old one, built of rough brick, and as I put my hands on the wall, testing the texture, I had a thought—a brainstorm, really. They really are like storms for me—it's like there's this crash and then I've got a brand new idea from nowhere. Anyway, I pulled myself up and started to climb. In no time I was skittering up the side of the building like a big blonde bug. I was pissed about what had happened in the cemetery, and worried for the guy on the roof, but couldn't help also being elated at what I was doing. I was climbing six stories ...me! I couldn't even climb that damned rope in gym class, not even the easy one with the rubber grips. And it was easy. It was wonderful! It required about as much effort as opening a can of Pringles. I was fast, I was strong, I was...I was SpiderVamp !
I got to the top and gave a little jump, which sent me soaring a few feet in the air, only to land on the roof and go into a deep bow. "Ta-dah!"
He was really cute. Dressed in scrubs which—uh-oh—smelled like dried blood, here was another guy with deep black hair. Except while Finger Boy gave off an air of understated menace, this fella was throwing off vibes of exhausted despair. His hair was cut brutally short, his eyes were dark green, and he had a goatee that made him look like a tired devil. He was lightly tanned and thin, almost too thin. He stared at me with eyes gone huge.
"What have you been eating?" he said at last.
"Let's not go there."
"I must really be tired," he said, more to himself than to me.
"Nice try, but I'm no illusion. Although in these second-rate tennis shoes, I ought to be. Why d'you want to jump? What happened?"
He blinked at me and shifted his weight. He wasn't nervous to be talking to me, not at all. Probably thought he could jump long before I got to him. And he was so sad and unhappy; nothing was surprising him tonight. "I'm sick of kids dying, I'm in debt up to my tits for medical school, my dad's got cancer, I haven't had sex in two months, and I'm being kicked out of my apartment because the owner sold his house."
"That's pretty bad," I admitted. "Except for the sex thing...I once went two years."
He pondered that one for a minute, shaking his head. "What about you? What happened to you?"
"Well, I died earlier this week, found out I can't die again , my stepmother stole all my good shoes, I can't eat any kind of food, I raped a perfectly nice guy last night, met a bunch of vampires who turned out to be every bad movie stereotype imaginable, and threw a really bad vamp through a stone cross. Then I saw you."
"So you're a vampire?"
"Yes. But don't be scared. I'm still a nice person."
"When you're not raping men."
"Right. How about we go get a cup of coffee, talk about why our lives suck?"
He hesitated. The wind riffled his scrubs, but his hair was too short and didn't move. He glanced down at the street, then back at me.
"Come on," I coaxed. "Vampires exist and you never had the faintest clue, right? I know I didn't. I mean, come on! Vampires? What year is this? But if we exist, think of all the other amazing things out there you don't know about. It's a little early to shut the book on your whole life, don't you think? What are you, twenty-five?"
"Twenty-seven. Are you just luring me down so you can feed on me to quench your unholy thirst?"
Why were people always asking me this sort of thing? "No, I just don't want you to jump. I can wait a while for my next meal."
"I'll get down," he said slowly, "if you'll make me your next meal."
I nearly swooned at the excitement that simple statement brought. "What have you been smoking? You just met me!"
"Yeah, and the last fifteen seconds have been the most interesting in the last three years. So...?"
"Pal, you
The building was an old one, built of rough brick, and as I put my hands on the wall, testing the texture, I had a thought—a brainstorm, really. They really are like storms for me—it's like there's this crash and then I've got a brand new idea from nowhere. Anyway, I pulled myself up and started to climb. In no time I was skittering up the side of the building like a big blonde bug. I was pissed about what had happened in the cemetery, and worried for the guy on the roof, but couldn't help also being elated at what I was doing. I was climbing six stories ...me! I couldn't even climb that damned rope in gym class, not even the easy one with the rubber grips. And it was easy. It was wonderful! It required about as much effort as opening a can of Pringles. I was fast, I was strong, I was...I was SpiderVamp !
I got to the top and gave a little jump, which sent me soaring a few feet in the air, only to land on the roof and go into a deep bow. "Ta-dah!"
He was really cute. Dressed in scrubs which—uh-oh—smelled like dried blood, here was another guy with deep black hair. Except while Finger Boy gave off an air of understated menace, this fella was throwing off vibes of exhausted despair. His hair was cut brutally short, his eyes were dark green, and he had a goatee that made him look like a tired devil. He was lightly tanned and thin, almost too thin. He stared at me with eyes gone huge.
"What have you been eating?" he said at last.
"Let's not go there."
"I must really be tired," he said, more to himself than to me.
"Nice try, but I'm no illusion. Although in these second-rate tennis shoes, I ought to be. Why d'you want to jump? What happened?"
He blinked at me and shifted his weight. He wasn't nervous to be talking to me, not at all. Probably thought he could jump long before I got to him. And he was so sad and unhappy; nothing was surprising him tonight. "I'm sick of kids dying, I'm in debt up to my tits for medical school, my dad's got cancer, I haven't had sex in two months, and I'm being kicked out of my apartment because the owner sold his house."
"That's pretty bad," I admitted. "Except for the sex thing...I once went two years."
He pondered that one for a minute, shaking his head. "What about you? What happened to you?"
"Well, I died earlier this week, found out I can't die again , my stepmother stole all my good shoes, I can't eat any kind of food, I raped a perfectly nice guy last night, met a bunch of vampires who turned out to be every bad movie stereotype imaginable, and threw a really bad vamp through a stone cross. Then I saw you."
"So you're a vampire?"
"Yes. But don't be scared. I'm still a nice person."
"When you're not raping men."
"Right. How about we go get a cup of coffee, talk about why our lives suck?"
He hesitated. The wind riffled his scrubs, but his hair was too short and didn't move. He glanced down at the street, then back at me.
"Come on," I coaxed. "Vampires exist and you never had the faintest clue, right? I know I didn't. I mean, come on! Vampires? What year is this? But if we exist, think of all the other amazing things out there you don't know about. It's a little early to shut the book on your whole life, don't you think? What are you, twenty-five?"
"Twenty-seven. Are you just luring me down so you can feed on me to quench your unholy thirst?"
Why were people always asking me this sort of thing? "No, I just don't want you to jump. I can wait a while for my next meal."
"I'll get down," he said slowly, "if you'll make me your next meal."
I nearly swooned at the excitement that simple statement brought. "What have you been smoking? You just met me!"
"Yeah, and the last fifteen seconds have been the most interesting in the last three years. So...?"
"Pal, you
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