She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. I said intensity of perception. She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. You will obey me out of common decency. She was retuning, fifths spilling from the sliver of light underneath the door like milk. She could stow away, go to a place where there were no people to eat and end her life.
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