Don’t play with your food, the first rule of etiquette vampires are taught, and yet I am so tempted to nibble on the mortal doctor I’m forced to work with. My weakness for Raphael is a problem—for him. My touch is deadly to humans, although they do tend to die with a smile on their face.
Vampires are real. The world now knows, and in a gesture of good will, we’ve allowed them to send a human to study us that the populace might understand they’ve nothing to fear. We’re not savage, mindless killers. We’re cold, calculating survivors, and we know how to keep a secret.
It’s up to me to make sure this human doctor doesn’t see too much. So no eating him, as I’m sure his demise will end the precarious truce vampire kind has with the world. It saddens me to admit we will need their armies and weapons in the coming war. A war they refuse to believe is coming.
Fools. I haven’t lived this long to suffer them, and I didn’t become the general of the vampire queen’s army by being diplomatic. Everyone will fight in the upcoming battle, or they’ll feed my troops. All things living will do their part, or die.
Just like Raphael will die if he keeps tempting me with those lips. Because everyone knows a vampire’s kiss is toxic.
