“You look like the vamp who bled the cat.”

“It looked to me like a vamp version of a pissing contest. Men will be boys.”

“I’d like for you to tell me who you are.” The man blinked. “David Dryden.” I just looked at him. “Your one o’clock?” “My one o’clock what?” “Date,” the third vamp said, grinning. “For what?” I asked, confused. “Well, you know.” The mage looked a little awkward suddenly. “The usual.” “I think we’ve got a contender here, boys,” the brunet said. “Smooth operator,” the second vamp agreed.”

“We are arguing like a man who should say, if there were an invisible cat in that empty chair, the chair would look empty; but the chair does look empty; therefore there is an invisible cat in it.”

“I don't know what I was expecting a vampire's room to look like. Maybe lots of black, a bunch of books by Camus... oh, and a sensitive portrait of the only human the vamp ever loved, who had no doubt died of something beautiful and tragic, thus dooming the vamp to an eternity of moping and sighing dramatically.What can I say? I read a lot of books.”

“Who knew that when you cut a slit in the belly of the night sky, it bled color?”