Marry the devil or die within a year by the hand of some mysterious...thing. That was hardly a fair choice, and I was sick to death of being boxed into a corner to make choices I didn't want to.
During my nightly patrol, I went through the motions with two vamps, easily staking them through the hearts with minimal splatter, and they disappeared to wherever they went when death caught up with them a second time. In the back of my head, though, it felt strange taking the cemetery vamps out when I wouldn't dream of doing that to those next door. It didn't seem fair.
What separated one group from the other? The fact that I'd allowed one of those vamps between my legs and probably could have easily had another? That they had brains and brawn and didn't always snap their jaws in my face? Wel
