Immediately, I felt the energy disrupt and drain away. “All right. We can move now.”

I got up as fast as I could and ran for the nearest bathroom to throw up.

Mercifully, Paul stayed away. I heard him moving around his bedroom, opening and then closing the closet door, presumably to put away the television.

After several minutes, I felt better and got up to wipe my mouth and wash my hands. I emerged from the bathroom. Paul was gone, and I went downstairs to find him.

He was in the kitchen, taking a bag of blood out of the fridge. As I approached, he handed me a shot glass.

“It’s the good stuff.”

I took a sip. He was right. It was good and burned pleasantly going down. The warmth settled both my stomach and my emotions. “Um, sorry…abou...

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