"I wanna see it!" "Them. Them. You want to see them; it's not like I have one big retard fang." His upper lip curled back into a sneer and his teeth reflected the neon lights in the bar. "That's it? They're so...small." "I'll have you know many a wimmens have called them manly and adequate." "Women in chat rooms? "Fuck. Real women in real life. I don't care what Hollywood says; we don't troll the Internet finding people too dumb to know better." "Am I too dumb," she asked coquettishly. She squinted through the almost light at him, trying to get a rise. While stoic most of the night, a wry grin spread slowly like cancer across his face. "Baby, you're too beautiful not to be..." he mused out loud with a chuckle. "Hey! What's that supposed to mea--" "Shhh... Don't worry about it. I sometimes forget how fragile you breathers are." Her eyes flashed briefly with anger, quickly quelled by a strange calm. "Are you glimmering me? Magic isn't allowed," she said breathily as she leaned in towards him. "Glamour, you mean, and it's not magic. It's the manipulation of pheromones in combination with a naturally heightened level of alpha waves from the brain. Pretty much a poor man's hypnosis..." "You're using it," angling herself so that her low-cut shirt caught his wandering eye. "No. I'm using vodka martinis," he stated, motioning at the bartender for another round on his tab. The dull bass thudding of White Zombie's "Blood, Milk, and Sky" started, the guitar riff cutting white hot over the couple as their eyes met and locked. "So, what about werewolves? "Huh?" "Werewolves? Everything I've seen says they exist and you hate each other..." "Werewolves? Werewolves don't exist. That's just plain stupid." "What about sunlight?" "I'm sure it doesn't bother them in the slightest." "No, I mean you." "Well, according to Hollywood bullshit, we sparkle. What the hell does that even mean? If by sparkle you mean weaken, burn, and then explode, than yes, by all means we fucking sparkle. Like fucking fireworks, we fucking sparkle." "You curse a lot..." "Sign of the fucking times, I guess. We curse, spit, and not any of us look like that Pattinson guy or David Boreanaz, I assure you." There was a deafening moment of silence as the music faded out from White Zombie to Bauhaus. They both rolled their eyes at "Bela Lugosi's Dead." "What a horrible piece of shit; almost as bad as Joy Division, as far as music goes," she said, taking a delicate sip on her new martini. "I remember when men were men, punk was punk, and the Smiths and New World Order were getting beaten up in parking lots. Little skinny shitheads crying themselves a sweater of tears, mascara and 'feelings'." "Wow. You're old. What was that, the 70's?" He cast a scorned look her way and she tried to smile back. "Christ. If you think the 70's were a hundred years ago, I'd hate to think what you think of the really old vamps. They were the old school deal, hiding out in caves and scaring the blood out of the sick, old, or unwary. The fuckers picked their teeth with crosses and bathed in holy water. What we would call 'the good ol' days,' I guess." "Blood?" "Yep. Scare it right out and slurp it off the dirt like doing red lines of cocaine." "Is that what it's like? Like doing coke?" He smiled gently at her as he leaned in. She thought he was going to whisper but he didn't. "It's like drinking a cupcake and hand job smoothie." She sat in a stunned silence. "If it's that good, I want in." He smiled like he knew a secret. He leaned back on the barstool and eyed her hungrily. There was something about the human female that piqued his interest. Some smoldering kindling of a kindred spirit that spoke to him in a language unspoken. When not cute and pursed, her bottom lip was bitten by her top teeth. He could smell her sweat, all pheromones and cheap Chanel knockoff. The soft twitch of her eyes as he made her uncomfortable with his silence. He could hear the industrial grinding of her nervously rubbing those delicate hands on those smooth legs poured into her jeans. She caught his eye as he caught the sure scent of adrenaline. His smile softened seductively. "Tell you what," he whispered. "Why don't you and me take a little walk..."