Of course!

You look at your finger, the wound has already closed, that's just part of being a Hamilton, but the drop of blood is still there. "Prove to me I can trust you," you say, holding out your finger.

Sara stares at you, eyes wide, before taking your sleeved arm in her hands. Trembling, she stretches out her tongue to the tiny red drop. Her tongue touches you for only a moment, but it's like nothing you've ever felt. You feel life burning in you, fire from the tip of your fingers flares out to every inch of you, bringing with it a calming warmth.

She lets out a soft moan, the sound of which causes a different warmth to spread through you.

Her eyes meet yours, and you can feel the heat in them, "I've never drank blood directly from a human before." Sara hesitates for a moment before adding, "I wouldn't mind tasting it again."

You smile, "Would you actually be able to stop if I gave you more?"

"No," she says after a moment, "not right now at least."

She opens the fridge and removes a bag of medicinal blood, pops the top and starts drinking it like a kids drink.

"That's how you don't attack anyone."

"Yeah," she sits down at the table, motioning for you to join her.

You take the cheese to the table, and return the fridge, returning with a beer.

"As a vampire I'm not susceptible to human diseases. Even the the things that would be devastating for humans like HIV or Hep C don't matter at all to me. Coexisters like me have made connections to get waste blood like this."

"What about animal blood?"

Sara laughs, her laugh is enchanting, smokey like her voice. "You've watched too many teen romance movies. Yes we can drink animal blood, but its not the same. It can quench our thirst, but if you drink too much you become... feral. I assume you know all of the other misinformation?" she asks after a moment.

"Vampires have reflections in mirrors that aren't silver; Only real, direct, sunlight is lethal. No cross, no smoke, no bats, no sleeping in coffins. I was a Hunter remember?" you chuckle.

"I always laugh about the coffin thing," she smiles, "since we don't sleep at all."

"Tell me a little about yourself," you ask, before taking a bit of cheese.

"Hmmm, where to begin?" She pauses, considering, "I guess I'll start when I turned 18. My mother and father decided to return to Styria, where they immigrated from during the first World War. My brother, Henry, and stayed here at the house."

"You had mentioned him in our emails," you interrupt, "but you said he wasn't living here?"

"No, he and his girlfriend don't live here right now. They're with her," she hesitates, "pack."

The silence is thicker than the cheese your knife is half way through. "Your brother is a vampire, dating a werewolf?"

Sara nods.

"That makes having a retired Hunter for a roommate seem rather mundane."

"Yes. She was one of the Coexistence faction of werewolves that was here before," she adds. "Her pack is very supportive. But most of my kind, and hers, are not. They are currently living in Prince Rupert, British Columbia.

"After my parents and brother left I was lonely. There was another vampire who had come to town, Vladimir. He seemed like a nice guy. He told me that he wanted to try to coexist with humans. We started out as just friends, but... we ended up as more than that. And he betrayed me, he turned a human girl in town, and was... with her as well. But he couldn't control her, and she attacked someone," she stops clearly upset.

The pieces were starting to fall together in your head, Vladimir was responsible--if indirectly--for the attack two years ago.

"I'm sorry," you put your hand over hers.

It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but her skin against yours is not comforting. It is exhilarating. Electrifying, terrifying. Every nerve in your body is on fire, your heart is in your throat. You can feel every pounding thud of your heart in your chest. And Sara can too. The desire in her eyes is palpable, and it's not just your blood that's on her mind.

You want more, a lot more. You lean forward, toward her luscious red lips. Your mouth hungering to taste hers.

"I'm sorry," she pulls her and away and steps back.

"No," you almost shout. "I'm... I'm sorry. That was my fault."

She looks at you, worry in her face, "It's not. It's, I just need to sleep," she says while rushing out of the room.

You can hear her light footsteps on the old wooden steps. You want to go after her; but it would be useless you wouldn't have been able to catch her before, and with your damn leg... Besides, you add, what am I going to say to her?

You give up and make your way up the stairs to your room and to your own bed.