"Please." Josh leaned forward. "I love Heather. I want to be a vampire so we can be together forever. Heather told me that you were a romantic. That you'd understand."

"Oh, I understand perfectly," I said, feeling the seething annoyance building up inside me.

"You want to be a vampire? Then why don't you just get her to sire you?"

He shook his head. "She's the last in a long line. The strength in her blood is way too diluted. If she sired me I'd be too weak. But because of your connection to two master vampires your blood would make me strong, even as a fledgling. You have to sire me."

"Forget it." I shook my head. No way. That would require biting him—possibly on the neck. Something I've never done before nor did I plan on starting tonight. Gross. I'd have to drain his blood while keeping my fangs in long enough to transmit the vampire virus that had changed me from a normal, everyday twenty-eight-year-old into a friendly neighborhood bloodsucker.

Hell no.

Now, I did require blood to live. I was a vampire, after all. But that was why there were vampire bars. Vampires went to these places to get their blood—blood that was available in kegs delivered by companies that got the red stuff from paid donors. It was a business.

The rarer the blood type, the more the blood cost. It worked very well and nobody I knew had a problem with it, especially since it meant that we didn't have to get our blood from the original source. That would be wrong on too many levels to count. No humans were harmed to meet the requirements of my daily nutrition. Amen.

Although, even drinking blood from a keg, knowing I wasn't hurting anybody, had been a hard thing to accept. However, if I didn't want to die in agony—which I didn't—some aspects of being a vampire couldn't be avoided.

"I'm out of here." I stood up from the table and grabbed my coat, ignoring the money completely, and I left the café to emerge into the chilly night without looking back.