The sun was brighter now, shining high in the sky, and I squinted at it after leaving my dark and despairing house. I glared it for being so bright, and for my body being so weak and frail. I reached into my purse and pulled out a scratched up pair of sunglasses. Looking around to see if anyone noticed the hermit emerging from her crumbling tower, I saw a few people at the corner of my yard looking in my direction. They seemed startled at my sudden appearance and lowered their faces as they quickly hurried away at my glance. I shook my head, already feeling defeated and isolated.

  I suppose my attitude didn’t exactly invite people to want to be my friend, but despite my demeanor, it was always obvious that I frightened people with how different I was, and that was something I certainly couldn’t help. In fact, a lot of people that I ran into on a regular basis made no effort to hide how they felt about me and my presence in the city. It was just something that I had grown accustomed to, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting. I was only human. Well… not really.

  There were so many aspects of my life before all of this that escaped me, but my sense of self was one of the few things that never seemed to shimmer away in my memories. I knew in my heart I didn’t used to be this callous. In fact, I loved mingling with people. I was such a social butterfly when I was human. The dramatic turn my outlook on the world and the people around me took from the moment I woke up in this house was staggering. Though I remained myself, with similar perspectives, wants, and needs, I simply could not find the drive to be the person I used to be. What was the point?

  I decided that I just needed to get this over with and get back home. Squaring myself, I walked down the path that led out the gate and quietly unlatched it. Unmercifully, it screeched like an old, rod-iron fence and I winced. Of course, I now had everyones’ attention. Various bits of chatter stopped abruptly and heads swiveled around from all directions to glare at the offensive sound. I ducked my head down and gave an awkward half smile that didn’t reach my eyes, or probably even look like a smile. I didn’t even know why I was trying. I began to scamper down the sidewalk. I was so tired and hungry that my normal, snarky resolve was weak and pitiful. I just wanted to hide within myself and I felt particularly solemn today. I needed to buy food, grab blood, get home, and then nap for six hours.

  Walking down the sidewalk at a brisk pace, I was greeted with a soft breeze and the chittering of birds. I relished in the sweetness of it for a moment, briefly remembering when I was younger and my family went camping. The memory was thick with fog and slipped away as easily as it came, but it was there, gentle and unyielding. I sighed blissfully as I was able to recall my mother sitting by a lake. Or was it a river? It didn’t matter. The small prick of light in the back of my mind was all I needed to remind me that I once existed in another lifetime, and that my family was safe and happy somewhere. I smiled, despite myself, and kept walking, ignoring the eyes turning to glue themselves to me as I made my journey to the market. To be honest, I probably looked like a total weirdo smiling at myself while on my way to burn down a school full of children.

  I lived six blocks from the marketplace, so it wouldn’t take me too long to get there. It was set up a bit old fashioned, in my opinion, but I supposed it wasn’t much different from your typical farmer’s market. We did have modern convenience and food stores, but these people seemed to enjoy the social aspect of the market. It had small booths that held a variety of items, from home grown fruits and vegetables to knick-knacks and household goods. A lot of the goods were paid for and brought in en masse, choppered in by whomever had authorization to do it. We had a heli-pad, but I had no idea how they were able to ship things in without the whole air force shooting down an unidentified plane flying out in the middle of the forest. I supposed there were protocols I didn’t know about, and a hefty exchange of money between a lot of powerful hands. Clearly way above my pay grade. The Elders were ancient; it made sense that they had a lot of coin and weight to throw around. The only thing that seemed to matter was that they provided and they kept us safe. I didn’t know how it all worked, but I didn’t really care.

  Aside from shipments, there was a large chunk of the city population that had gardens in their yards or on the roof of their building. People put in the work to pass the time and to make an honest living. Everyone in the city tried to work jobs like a normal person, but we didn’t have homeless people either. If someone didn’t have the means, they were provided for regardless. So the simple act of working and being able to exchange currency and goods was just to live a normal life. I felt like a lot of people were just going through the motions.

  Marking the halfway point from my house to the market was a small chapel. It was one of three in the city, but various groups met together for religions of many types. Evil monsters or not, spirituality and faith was still strong in many. There might have even been a handful that found their faith after their change. Maybe some lost theirs. My eyes trailed up the building and rested on the golden cross at the peak of the rooftop, glinting in the sunlight. I scowled at it and silently cursed God for letting this happen to me. I was a good Christian, you know? I thought at Him. I was faithful and you let this happen. I mean, I sinned a little, but aren’t you supposed to have my back on that? I expected a bolt of lightning to strike down and smite me where I stood for being such a total blasphemer, but the only thing I felt was a carved out, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. No unspoken lightning zapped me from the sky, and no one answered back.

  I scuffed my shoe on the ground and continued on. The walk had me sweating and exhausted as the summer sun relentlessly beat down on me. The sun didn’t make us burst into flames and dissolve into a wisp of smoke and ash, but it did drain us when we stayed in it for a while. Just slightly more than it would a human staying out in the sun and heat all day at the beach, and in a much shorter period of time. It wasn’t usually this bad though. Despite superior endurance, I was more exhausted than I should have been simply because I was lacking blood so much that it was physically apparent now. I noted the dryness of my mouth again and found myself excited—and then promptly disgusted—to finally give my body the true nourishment it begged for.

  The entrance to the market closer to my house was the district with mainly produce and hand-crafted goods, but that wasn’t where I needed to be. I needed to visit the far end first. I would have no strength in me to carry bags of heavy food until I got some blood. I would also get a huge supply for my house. It was a daunting task visiting the “brewery” and showing weakness to these people, but it needed to be done. Any of the alternatives were worse. I had only been there a few times since I woke up in Anglaya, but I hated it every time. The supply of blood in my house had lasted weeks, but it had eventually run dry. I could easily get a blood drink from one of the booths near my house, but I wanted to buy in bulk and not have to do this again for a while. It occurred to me then that I could have gotten a drink for strength before I came here and I felt like a complete idiot. Hindsight is always twenty twenty.

  I continued on until I reached the outskirts of the market. Wary of the additional exposure to people, I weighed my options. If I wanted to avoid as many people as possible, I could cut around the market entirely. But that would add at least another half a mile to my trip until I was able to get blood, maybe more, and I would stay in the sun instead of being shielded by the canopy. I waited at the edge of the market, glancing back and forth between it and the path that would take me around. I grimaced, finally deciding that I didn’t have the resolve to make it all the way around. I was already breathless, sweating from head to toe. I turned to the tall, flowery archway that marked the entrance to the slim street that ran through the booths. I could already hear the sounds of the market before I passed the towering hedges along the front. As you walked through the crowded streets of the market, most people would call out to you and announce their goods like a town crier, but they didn’t dare call out to me. They never did.

  “Fresh melons! Get your fresh melons!”

  “Home grown strawberries, harvested this morning!”

  The voices from all directions rang out and echoed through the arch and spilled out into the neighborhood.

  “Handmade jewelry for the lucky lady in your life!”

  I passed the first booth and looked at a sign that said Blood Oranges, delicious AND ironic! Okay that was funny.

  I looked up at the canopy that darkened the whole market. The area was covered by a thin canopy that blocked out most of the sun and allowed people to shop without the harsh rays beating down on them. With the power of the sun on my skin alleviated, I removed my glasses and tucked them back into my purse. The breeze weaved through the streets and hit me again. I tried to find some semblance of peace as I plunged myself into the mad crowd. All I had to do was make it to the other end without drawing too much attention to myself, and then I could walk around the market on the way back.

  “Afternoon ma’am, would you like to sample…” A man to my left called out to me. Purely by instinct, I turned to him. He was smiling broadly, but as soon as I turned to him and he saw my face—or rather, my eyes—he blanched. I silently cursed myself for removing my sunglasses.

  Our community had a couple thousand inhabitants, so not everyone knew exactly who I was, let alone my name, but there were enough rumors. Not everyone had seen or met me, but our population was small enough that word got around that the scary chick with the purple eyes was a psychopath. I hadn’t quite figured out why I invoked so much terror in people. I knew I could be a real bitch sometimes, but it seemed like it was excessive, considering how easily I could be overpowered if it ever came down to it. It had come down to it once. I guess the fear of the unknown just tended to frighten people most of all, human or not. That, and my creepy way of life, cooped up in my house and only coming out to glare around or having to be pinned down and force-fed blood was probably disconcerting. The tendrils of my reputation had rapidly made their way through the streets of Anglaya and no doubt reached most, if not all, of its inhabitants. Thus, close contact with most people, particularly strangers who had never seen me before, was exhausting. First meeting was usually the worst, ranging from rude staring to pure fear. It seemed like this encounter would be the latter.

  “Oh… I…” He was visibly nervous and it seemed to be drawing attention to him, and, more importantly, to me. Exasperated, I cut him off.

  “Sure.” I said, not even knowing what I was agreeing to sampling. Looking down, I was relieved to see tiny cups, each with three purple grapes. Looking at the sign on the front of the booth, I read Seedless Grapes, Home-Grown With Love. He continued to cower, gesturing to a cup with a trembling hand.

  “Help yourself…” He said quietly.

  A few people had stopped what they were doing to send sidelong glances over at our exchange, but I tried to act as naturally as possible. I felt a strong, burning sensation spread across my skin as I was scrutinized by the crowd, clearly waiting to see what I would do. I grabbed a cup and popped a grape into my mouth, enjoying the crunch and surprised at how much flavor it had. The man looked at me meaningfully and furrowed his brow. He waited for a response.

  “These are great,” I said, speaking around the grape in my mouth and pointing at the cup. “Much better than anything I’ve ever had.” He looked relieved and some of his posture relaxed. “Tell you what,” I crunched another grape, “I have to head down to the brewery, but I’ll swing back on my way home and buy a bag.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  He began to smile tentatively, looking pleased and cautiously excited. “Sounds great… I’ll just… set aside a bag for you. Is uh… two pounds okay?” He asked, still ringing his hands.

  “Two sounds perfect. I’ll be back in a bit.” I nodded and crunched the last grape. Looking around for a trash can, I found one near the back corner of the table. I reached out to throw it away just as he said, “Oh, I’ll take that.” But before I processed his words, he had reached out too, and his hand brushed mine. He flinched like I had burned him and let out a tiny gasp, barely audible above the hum of the market. He peered up at me, nervous again, mortification in his eyes.

  “Oops.” I said with a small laugh. “Sorry. Thanks.” I gingerly handed him the cup with two fingers, careful not to touch him again. I managed a smile, doing my best to hide how hurt that reaction had made me feel. I nodded again and backed up, daring a look around the adjacent booths. Some people were still turning their heads to listen in while pretending to shop, but the tension in the air had slightly dissipated. That burning heat all over my body began to trickle away. I breathed a sigh of relief and gave the man a curt nod before hurrying down the street again.

  With the shoppers now conscious of my presence in the market, the sounds of the hustle and bustle around me seemed to dim as I made my way through them. The shouting still rang out and laughter continued to bounce around from adults and children alike, but I was keenly aware of a chill in the air that followed as people peered at me up and down the street. I shook my head and stared at my feet as I walked, simply exhausted from the whole experience.

  Why did my life have to be like this? Looking back, I didn’t think I was necessarily popular in school, but I remembered having a ton of friends. I was one of those flies on the wall that could mingle into any group. The jocks, the popular kids, the cheerleaders, the emo kids, the band geeks, the punker weirdos. I could slip into any group and fit in. I was likable, and I had friends. Here, I was hated and had none. I missed actually having people like that in my life, but where do you start? I was a total freak here, both disliked and feared.

  When I finally made it to the brewery, I felt miserable. Both my body and soul were heavy. I opened the door to the large building and the tinkle of bells alerted staff that a customer had arrived. A man stood up to greet me from the register. He seemed surprised to see me, but not terrified like the grape guy.

  “Good morning, Eyevoree. Good to see you today. What can I do for you?” He held my gaze warily. He must have been far more confident than everyone else I came across. That, or he was putting up a strong front. He had to have heard the rumors about me if he knew my name when we had never met.

  “Uh… bulk order.” I said quietly, the despair palpable in my voice. I was a little alarmed that he knew my name, but also slightly impressed. I had never seen him here before in the infrequent times I’d had to venture out. He either did his job well, or paid attention more than most.

  “Perfect, I’ll get that put together for you.” His voice was calm and professional, but I could hear the slight nervousness behind the words he was trying carefully to hide. “While you wait, we have an in-house beer special available. It’s a golden ale with honey and brown sugar on the rim. Just a hint of blood, but it comes together in a beautiful blend of sweet and bold. Interested in sampling it?”

  Our city didn’t follow regular human laws, so you could drink alcohol even if you weren’t twenty one. Most of the adults wouldn’t sell to particularly young children on principle, but it takes a lot of alcohol for us to feel a thing. I wasn’t of age, but no one would card me here. Normally I didn’t like beer, but in the interest of being polite, especially after he went through the trouble of saying all of that, I conceded.

  “No I don’t… Yes. Yea that sounds fine..” I nodded and sat down at one of the tables. I didn’t bother trying to hide the misery on my face as I looked around.

  The brewery was huge inside. There was seating available for at least one hundred people at any given time. The tables were deep mahogany and each chair was soft and plush with dark browns and light beiges. I looked around at the walls and noted the old-styled decorations, like miniature, model cars and route 66 signs. Mounted animal heads were scattered around the place, from tiny squirrels to a twelve point buck. I made a face at them, knowing I would never understand the allure of hunting. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

  In the back, I could see the brewery where they crafted beers and mead. Massive copper vessels sat behind a glass window, and people worked around them. I assumed that’s where their drinks were made. I noted an even larger silver vessel to the side that just said Blood. I grimaced and looked down at the table.

  The brewery served food as well, so opened the menu to peek at the options. I didn’t normally eat regular sushi or sashimi, but some spicy tuna tempura caught my eye. I hated fish, but tuna didn’t count, right? Chicken of the sea. Plus, deep fried and covered in sauce? Count me in. My growling stomach nearly ordered for me. But it wasn’t really begging for food and I knew it.

  After a few minutes, the man came over to my table and set the beer down. It was a pale yellow color and the rim was dipped in honey and then sugar. It smelled delicious, and I was unable to smell the blood, which was a relief.

  “Thank you.” I said shyly. “Could I also order a spicy tuna tempura roll?”

  “Of course,” he said with a curt nod. “Go ahead and give it a try.”

  It took me a second to realize he was talking about the beer. “Oh.” I said, fumbling a bit to close the menu. I was a little nervous about sitting here drinking what was essentially a blood beer right in front of this guy while he watched me, but, again, in the interest of playing along, I grabbed the glass. I was trying all sorts of things today. I gingerly took a sip, my lips sticking to the honey a bit around the rim, and was surprised to find that it tasted incredible. The mix of spice and sugar was perfect, and you couldn’t taste the blood at all. The only indication that there was blood lurking in the drink was the jolt of energy I felt pulse through me at the tiny sip. It took a little of the edge off that had followed me from outside. I must have been more thirsty than I thought if such a tiny bit of blood made such a tangible difference.

  “This is really good. And I normally don’t like beer.” I took another long drink.

  “I make it myself,” he said, beaming. He put a hand to his chest and struck a shallow bow. “Glad you like it. Let me go put your order in.” He gave another nod and backed up. With the tension around us all but gone, I sank into my chair and sipped at my beer. I watched him go, and, with his back turned, looked at him more closely.

  He looked like he was a few years older than me, but who really knew? He wore dark brown pants and a black shirt tucked in. A white apron hung around his waist. Observing him, I realized he was actually pretty cute. He was athletic and broad, with huge arms and a strong back. When he turned to the side, I inspected the profile of his face. He had a rugged look to him while still maintaining an extremely pampered appearance. His jaw could cut through a mountain and his hair looked like it was professionally styled. I chuckled, imagining that he probably spent more time in front of the mirror than I did.

  At that moment, he glanced over at the sound of my quiet laughter and saw me checking him out. I let out a tiny gasp into my beer and it shot into my lungs. I bursted into a fit of coughing and sputtering. He turned to help me and I waved him off and gave him a thumbs up.

  “Wrong pipe,” I said with a choked voice.

  Oh my God. Could I be more of a freaking loser? Of course the first time I see a cute guy in Anglaya, I choke in front of him. I was going to go home, climb to the roof of my house, and jump off head first.

  Almost as if he guessed my thoughts, he smiled wryly and turned away. He went back to poking at the register and I sank deeper into my booth wanting to die. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any more humiliating. I rubbed my temples and tried to enjoy my beer. I refused to look at him again.

  I was lost in thought when he came back to bring my order to me. He set the plate down and smiled. A lot of people, mainly those who visited humans a lot, practiced smiling around their fangs so they could hide them and not risk detection. His smile was huge and confident, and his fangs glistened between pearly white, perfect teeth. My stomach fluttered.

  “Thank you…” I said meekly.

  “How is the beer treating you?” He asked with a playful smile. It was an innocent question, one he would have asked any customer, but the look on his face made it clear he was poking fun at me.

  “Well I mean, I liked it until it tried to kill me. Now I’m just suspicious of its intentions.” I raised an eyebrow dramatically and slowly slid the beer away.

  He laughed, and the sound was nice. “I promise it’s harmless. I think that was user error.” He slid the beer back to me with one finger.

  His snarky attitude was extremely attractive. It was like looking in the mirror, only there was a chiseled dude there instead of a grumpy woman. Maybe I was just attracted to sarcastic men.

  “May I?” He gestured to the chair and I paused, shocked that anyone would want to sit with me.

  “Um… sure.” I averted my eyes.

  He sat down and reached out a hand across the table. “I’m Danny.”

  I took his hand and shook it. When I pulled back and rested my hand back in my lap, I found it trembling. It wasn’t that it was him, it was that, for the first time in months, there was someone in this city besides the Elders that was being nice to me. My heart ached and I relished the contact. I hadn’t realized how much I had been craving it.

  “I’m Eyevoree. But… you already knew that. How did you know that?” I asked.

  “Just heard it around town. There’s only one beautiful woman with purple eyes. Hard to miss.”

  I tried to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. Not only was he being nice to me, he was flirting with me. My heart raced. I let out a small, nervous chuckle.

  “I see… Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

  My stomach growled again and he laughed. “I guess you are hungry.”

  We both knew that blood would satiate that growling better than any food could, but most of us still enjoyed eating regular food in addition to drinking blood. There were few people who survived off of blood alone. It was just one of those things we held on to in order to keep our humanity, so to speak. I think he was just trying to act human.

  “Fridge at home was looking pretty sad these days. I have to go shopping after this.” I felt myself making an uncomfortable face at this notion and tried to correct it.

  “Well don’t look too excited.” He said.

  “It’s fine,” I said, dipping one of the rolls in an orange sauce. “People just kind of suck, you know?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

  “Yea. Really it’s fine. They just… stare. Among other things. You’ve heard the rumors.” I shrugged and bit into the tempura. It was probably the best tempura I had ever had, but that could just be because I was so hungry. I think dirt would have tasted like fine cuisine.

  “Hmm.” He said, his mouth becoming a hard line. “Yes. I have heard some rumors. But that’s all they are. Rumors. I must admit, I graduated high school some time ago. I don’t really find myself drawn in by that stuff anymore.”

  “Rumors ring with truth sometimes,” I mumbled.

  “Well let’s see.” He began ticking off fingers. “There’s the one about how you attacked a guard and ripped his head clean off his shoulders. That one was pretty interesting, I’m afraid. There’s the one that said you were somehow pregnant with some unknown love child after sleeping with someone’s husband. That one was less interesting.” He tapped his chin in thought. “Oh yes, my favorite one. The one where you were secretly plotting to kill everyone and then enslave mankind. Any of those ring true?”

  I had gone to take another bite of food, but, as he spoke, had slowly lowered my sushi from my mouth down to the plate and just stared, open mouthed. Finally, I smiled. “Um… the one about the guard. That one is pretty true.”

  “Ah yes. I figured. You just had that way about you. The great decapitator.”

  I snorted and shook my head, returning to my food. “People suck.”

  “They do.” He smiled again, gentle this time. He became thoughtful for a moment before he spoke again. “They have always been like this, you know. It’s not your fault.”

  I peeked back up at him through my lashes. “What do you mean?”

  “Our people,” he said, gesturing to the door leading outside. “They are just overly cautious. They always make a fuss when something new or unknown shows up. Granted, your case is a little different, but they are just paranoid and stuck in their ways. They’ll come around. Might take a little longer than usual, but they will.”

  I wrung my hands together and then rested them on the table. When I didn’t answer, he reached out and placed one of his hands on top of mine. The gesture was pure, not meant to be anything more than kind. “You always have a friend here.” He stood and walked back to the register. I continued to stare into my hands. A tiny flame lit in my heart.