“You haven’t told a lot of people in school that I’m a vampire, have you?” Lucy asked Michelle in earnest. I wanted something alive. I don’t want you to talk to me now. . Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. Here you are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, provided you keep liquor out of it. “Why do you kill me?” Michelle asked. Lucy went hunting on a Thursday night.
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