Chapter 3

“I’m human,” Jamie says, his tone flatter than Lake Erie in the winter freeze.

Niall laughs. “So who got eaten? Mother, boyfriend, sister—?”

“My best friend. And fuck you.” Jamie steps forward, fists balled. No sign of the stake. Must be up a sleeve, or trouser leg. Or both.

“Wasn’t me,” Niall says. “Hey, if the vamp who killed him was colored, would you join the fucking Ku Klux Klan?” Stake’s in the sleeve. Niall can tell by the way Jamie’s arm tenses as he speaks.

“Think this is funny, do you?” Jamie’s arm moves.

It’s not a stake. Niall stares at the wicked looking knife Jamie’s holding out. That could take his head off, no question. And why the fuck did he come here unarmed? “You killed me once already, remember?” he says, bravado to the last fucking death-rattle.

The knife drops an eighteenth of an inch or so. “What are you?” Jamie asks again.

Simple question. Not so simple to answer. “I’m a ghoul.” Wait for the look of revulsion.