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I shook my head. I couldn’t believe I was going to share this information with her. “We had a stupid name.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“We called ourselves the Rock It Boys.”

“Ah, okay. You’re serious. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it. What instrument did you play? Let me guess, the tambourine.”

“You really think you’re funny. I did not play the tambourine. I played a little guitar, and I was the lead singer. Me and the drummer wrote the songs.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing really. We played a few dive bars.”

“Why’d you stop? What happened to the Rock It Boys?”

“We weren’t that good, and we didn’t make any money or land a record deal. We all had to get real jobs after a while. Then the keyboard player got arrested for solicitation of a minor. The bass player got married and had a kid. The drummer got in a car wreck and died.”

“Jesus, that was sort of depressing. When did the vampire thing happen?” She asked.

It felt strange talking about being turned, but I kept talking, regardless. “I was a thirty-two-year-old forklift operator at an office supply warehouse. On Friday nights, I would drive about six or seven towns over and play guitar and sing at this open mic. I don’t know why. I just wanted to perform just to— I don’t know, get the songs out, or just relive the old times. One night, there were these two guys with money that came into the bar. We got to talking and drinking. Then we went to another bar, and they convinced these ladies to come back to their house and party. We did coke and swam naked in the pool. Partied until dawn. Gillian, the older guy, was my maker, and the younger?—”

I stopped talking when I saw Peggy walking toward us. Morgan’s food arrived, piled high on a white ceramic plate. Morgan dove in, taking a massive bite of her burger. I watched,oddly fascinated by her enjoyment of something as simple as a cheeseburger.

“God, this is good. Or I am starving.” She mumbled through a mouthful of processed beef.

“I think you were starving.”

Morgan popped a French fry in her mouth. “Must be weird, watching people eat all the time.”

“Not anymore. I got used to it.”

“I don’t think I could ever get used to drinking blood.” Morgan’s delicate faced morphed into a frown. “What happens if you don’t drink it?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know any vamp that starved themselves. There are human blood bags walking around everywhere. Why would we deprive ourselves of the one thing we crave?”

Morgan stopped chewing to gaze at me. “Where are you getting blood from?”

“Zand has it stockpiled.”

“Where does he get it from?”

“A blood bank. He owns one. He’s not the only vampire that owns one. Zand gives some of the blood to local hospitals, so it doesn’t look suspicious. He only keeps enough of the blood to feed a few of us regularly.”

“The blood doesn’t have to be fresh?” Morgan asked.

“No, we can live off the donated blood. We don’t have to drink it fresh from humans. Which means we don’t have to kill.”

“What about animal blood?”

“Yes, we can drink it. It just doesn’t taste the same. Maybe the difference between a Diet Coke and a regular Coke. I’m curious. Why now do you have so many questions?”

“Because I never got the chance to ask you anything, really.” She paused. “Harlen.”

“Morgan.”

“Have you ever drunk my blood?” She asked.

“What do you mean?” I was never the smartest, but I really didn’t understand the question.