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“Am I going to crave blood, raw steak, that kind of thing?” Gary asked, straight-faced. “Well, actually…” Savannah started. “I do not have rabies.” Gregori silenced her with a look. “I am not contagious.” “All the books say if you drink my blood, I get to drink your blood, and then I’m like you.” Gary sounded slightly disappointed. “Some people grow bat wings,” Savannah admitted, her teeth tugging at her lower lip. “That’s where Batman came from. And capes, all those swirling capes. A regular epidemic. It’s from our blood, a kind of allergic reaction. Don’t worry, you would be showing signs already if you were one of those with a problem.” “Is she always like this?” Gary asked Gregori. “She gets worse,” Gregori said truthfully.” — Christine Feehan