There was a ridiculous trend going around where vampires drank blood cold, and my closest friend was the latest convert.

We were sitting in a posh cafe hidden away deep in downtown Manhattan, in the nonhuman part of the area, and we were having lunch, which meant it was close to midnight. It was the nicest cafe to relax in, which wasn’t saying much when there were only three vampire cafes in the whole of the city. I was sipping warm blood like a normal person, but Eveline had this abomination of a drink that made me shiver just looking at it. There were ice cubes in it, and little bits of sugar crusted on the edges.

I was being polite and not mentioning how much her disgusting beverage made me ashamed to be in her presence, but she must have noticed a few telltale signs. She glanced at me with crimson eyes, and they glittered with humor.

“It’s actually really good, I promise. Try some, Cordie, come on.” She gently pushed her glass in my direction and my lip curled on instinct.

I forced a smile. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. Diets just don’t agree with me, and I’d hate to rob you of such a… delectable drink. Perhaps we should discuss something else?”

Evie rolled her eyes, then tapped her chin. “Okay, topic change: what were you up to last Monday? I came by to drop off some books, but you weren’t home.”

“Must I always be home on a Monday?”

“Yes. Monday’s your ‘stay home and read as many books as possible’ day. You never do anything on a Monday.”

It was my turn to eye-roll. “Fine. I was out doing things. Having some fun. Enjoying the night air.”

She nodded. “Mm. See, I really want to hope for the best here and believe that you’ve found some new friends and were hanging out with them, but you didn’t mention a single thing about that to me, so now I’m fearing the worst instead.”

I pressed a hand to my chest and gave her wounded doe eyes. “I am the most civil and polite person you know, Evie. I taught you everything you know about vampire etiquette, remember? Having friends would be child’s play for me.”

She gave me the Look. “Being polite and being antisocial aren’t mutually exclusive. Spill.”

I took a long sip of blood and savored it while I prepared my answer. The blood wasn’t fresh, certainly, but the temperature was near-identical. Human, young and healthy. Not particularly interesting stock, but it carried a delicious tinge of desperation that soothed me and reminded me of a misspent youth charming my way into the necks of heirs and heiresses.

But those days were long gone. I sighed and looked away from Evie. I could never lie to her. “I… I went hunting. I didn’t kill anyone I swear, just… snacked.”

“Cordelia,” she whined. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t keep acting like everything is the way it was before.”

I made a little frustrated noise. “I’m trying, I just- It isn’t easy setting aside two centuries of being an apex predator. It’s easy for you; you’ve only been a vampire for two decades. You’ve never known what it’s like to truly immerse yourself in the hunt, to rule a feeding grounds, to feed without worry of being caught.”

“You’re right: I haven’t. But that’s because the world is different. We’re living in a new era, and we are part of their society now. We have to share it. If vampires can’t play by the rules, we’ll be snuffed out like candle flames before a cold breeze. The humans will walk all over us. You get that, right?” Evie looked at me with earnest passion, the need for me to understand etched into every facet of her youthful face.

I took another sip of my drink, set it down, and stared into it in silence.

“Cordie…”

“I’ll try. Okay?”

She patted my hand and smiled at me. “You can do it, I know you can. Keep trying, Cordie.”

“We’ll see. Anyways, how are you doing? How’s work?”

“Great! They finally gave me a slot in food and lifestyle. Can you guess what that means?” She grinned impishly and swirled her disgusting drink.

“Ah, so that capital offense against vampirism is for an article, not just to torture me. What a relief.” I smiled at her to show my good humor. “In all seriousness, I’m proud of you. You’ve deserved that promotion for a while. I’d suggest we clink glasses in celebration but I think we both know what a terrible idea that would be.”

She snickered and cheered her drink at the air. “To moving up in the world. Though it’s really more of a lateral move than a promotion and I don’t expect my pay to increase for at least a few-”

I interrupted her with a gentle, “To moving up in the world.” I raised my own drink at a careful distance from hers, downed the last of it, and set it on the table with a delicate clink. “And to good culinary choices.”

Eveline tapped her chin idly and started making a plotting face; her brow furrowed with a certain adorable intensity and her spindly fingers danced to the beat of whatever song she’d last listened to.

I let her plot, finding amusement in watching her subtle twitching motions.

“Hmm. No, yeah, that’s a good idea.” She was talking to herself, and then she returned her attention to me. “Hey, Cordie, you’ve seen a lot of fad diets come and go, right?”

“Like the one you’re currently partaking in? Yes, I have. I’ve even see this particular diet crop up before. You were around, then, I think, though perhaps too feral at the time to remember.”

She nodded absently. “Right, yeah. So how would you like to talk about that kind of thing with someone who knows his stuff? I have a friend who’s writing a book on vampire diets and I think the two of you would really hit it off.”

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Is this another attempt to make me eat your weird diet food?”

“I promise, you don’t have to eat or drink anything you don’t want to. Just a nice chat over dinner, your choice of place. I’d consider it a personal favor.” It was Evie’s turn to flash doe eyes, and, as had been the case for nearly twenty years, she was much better at it: I caved immediately.

“Alright, fine. I’ll do this… interview? Chat? And is he a vampire?”

“Both, probably. And yes, he’s a vampire. Though not much older than me.”

“I suppose it might be a little interesting.”

“Awesome!” She grabbed her smartphone and started tapping away. “I’ll text you his number so you can set up the meeting yourself, and I’ll tell him to expect you. You’re still one of those weirdos who calls instead of texts, right?”

“Correct.” My phone vibrated. Being a lady of class, I did not rush to check it as Evie had already done several times over the course of our midnight luncheon.

“Cool, got it. He’s got a super flexible schedule so pick whatever works best for you. And thanks, I’m really excited for his book and I just know you’ll have some great insight to add.” She grinned wide at me and I couldn’t help but smile back.

I paid for lunch and politely ignored any insistence that we split the bill. We hugged, parted ways, and I glanced at the stars to see how much time was left in the night.

It was still only a little after midnight, so I had most of the evening outlined before me. Plenty of time to visit friends or attend a party or do something fun with my Saturday. Endless possibilities.

I called the number Evie had given me and scheduled dinner for the following evening, and then I went home and read a book.

It’s not that I’m antisocial, I mused as I scrolled through my phone contacts. Incinerated, moved to Brazil, and I don’t even know what she’s doing these days.

Once, I had been fabulous and popular, living a lavish lifestyle off the bounty of others. I’d flitted from social circle to social circle, charming actors and executives and artists alike. But that was before the masquerade Shattered and the whole world learned that vampires were real.

We could have ruled humanity from the shadows if we only learned to cooperate for more than a few minutes at a time… but instead we were thrust into the light and burned like ants beneath a magnifying glass. The Shattering took it all away.

I crawled into bed early and let sleep wash away my bitterness.

The next evening, at 4 AM sharp, I arrived at the restaurant I’d selected, the only one for miles around that catered to vampires. The sun would rise in a few hours, and already my skin prickled in anticipation. A bit of sunlight wouldn’t kill me, but it would weaken me.

My dinner partner showed up a minute late, which I forgave, and we shook hands. “Lewis Averford, we talked on the phone. Eveline’s friend, right?” He gave a toothy grin.

“Correct. I am Cordelia.”

Lewis was a vampire, that much was obvious. His skin was pale, though not as pale as mine, and like Eveline he chose not to hide his crimson eyes. The mark of his vampirism was on clear display, bright and red. It only took a little effort to disguise them as black or brown when in public, but these days it wasn’t really necessary anymore.

We entered the restaurant together and found our way to the seats I’d reserved. I ordered black pudding and Lewis had steak. I debated whether or not to get a glass of blood, seeing as I’d already had a more than healthy diet that week, but then I remembered it was Sunday and decided to treat myself. Lewis drank blood hot, which was a relief.

I started the conversation off light. “So, how do you know Eveline?”

“We travel in the same circles. We both research stuff for public consumption, I just do books and she writes articles. I actually met her at an event, but only briefly.”

“What kind of event?” Evie was always happy to share stories about her findings, but rarely talked about the people she met or the places she visited. I suspected it was a courtesy on her part, knowing my history.

He shrugged. “Some writing convention, nothing memorable. I’d say our real first meeting is when I started working on this diet project and asked to borrow some of her research. She was super passionate about it once we got into details.”

I nodded and sipped from my glass. “Yes, Evie’s always been a curious one. The joys of youth, I suppose.”

He chuckled. “I’m only a decade older than her, you know. I was sired just eight years before the Shattering.”

I clicked my tongue. “Youths.”

He laughed again. “The humans would never call us that.”

I smirked. “Good thing I don’t care for their opinions. No matter how much Eveline chides me about it.”

“Actually… here’s something I was wondering about: did you sire Eveline? She talks about you like you’re very close, but never uses ‘sire’ or ‘fledgling’. Sorry if it’s a touchy subject, it’s just been eating at me.”

I frowned, and old memories came unbidden. A girl in an alley with a rail-thin frame and too-red eyes. A fledgling abandoned by her sire for being weak. A promise extracted. Then, less than a year later, the world changed forever.

I murmured, “It’s… a complicated story. Suffice to say that she is not my fledgling, but I have cared for her as if she were.” Conviction entered my voice. “She is important to me, and I will not allow anyone to harm her.”

He nodded. “I can tell. I think she can, too. She talks about you a lot.” He snickered a little. “She calls you ‘the pickiest eater’ sometimes.”

I rolled my eyes and sipped some blood. “Yes, well, she would.”

Food arrived and we ate slowly to savor it. Well worth the price. The conversation strayed into vampire-friendly restaurants briefly before I brought it back to Evie.

“Honestly, I’m proud of her weird food research, much as I am any of her work. We may disagree on culinary taste, but she knows more about the fad diets she tries than any trend-chaser. It’s about knowledge to her, not popularity.”

Lewis nodded. “She’s smart. Crazy-smart. And she likes to keep her finger on the pulse.” He pointed to my meal, black pudding made with traces of human blood. “You’re a fan of the classics.”

“They were modern when I first tried them. And they’re part of our culture, the traditions passed down from sire to fledgling in this country and those that came before it.” I could tell I was already getting defensive.

Lewis swallowed a bite of steak and pulled a folder from his bag. “I’ve talked to a lot of vampires lately that have been here as long as the States have, or close. Some of these notes are purely nutritional, or palette differences, but I’ve been really fascinated by what certain trends say about periods of vampire culture. The way we drink blood, I mean. I’m sure you’ve noticed the recent craving for cold blood?”

I shivered. “Yes, and it’s disgusting. I’ve seen it before, with the rise of blood bags and refrigeration. It was especially prominent right around the Shattering. Hated it then, hate it now. If I can’t drink from the source, don’t take away my facsimile.”

“You still can drink from the source, it’s just harder now. They have to know exactly what they’re getting into. I know plenty of vampires who still manage to feed from the source once or twice a month.”

I shifted in my seat and ignored my sense of guilt. “It’s nothing like the old days. You must remember that time, yes? Even if it was only a few years, that’s still hundreds of feedings. Hundreds of times that your fangs sank into a vulnerable neck or wrist. We were royalty of the night, sovereign and unchallenged. Now we’re rats, skittering around begging for handouts. Why should a vampire bend to the will of a human?”

“You were human, once, Cordelia. We all were, every last vampire.” I glared at him and he winced. “Sorry. I should be gathering data, not trying to sway you.”

There was cold bitterness creeping into my voice as I said, “Then ask your questions. And tell me what my peers have told you. I want to know.”

He tapped his notes and looked away from me. “Well… there are trends. Do you have fond memories of fresh blood?”

I nodded and took a long sip of my drink, dissecting every detail about the blood pouring down my throat. Female, early twenties, indolent. Blood given callously, cheaply, and fearlessly. Blood of cattle raised for milking, sold for a sum that would be pennies to some and most of a month’s rent for the destitute. Value quantified, codified, and converted to a dollar sign.

“It’s… such a powerful thing. So unique. It is part of being a vampire. The taste of a vein, the beating pulse. Intimacy. Strength. Power.”

“Do you ever wish you could go back to that time? When vampires hunted freely?”

I drained my glass. “Often. We were predators once, and they were prey. We were the elite, the chosen. What is this miserable existence we have now? How much have we lost, confined to human morality, human cages, a human world? Will we wither away under their reign, or will they choose to slaughter us at the slightest hint of danger?”

He pursed his lips as if to say something, but stopped himself and simply jotted down a few notes. “You asked what the others said. Vampires sired after the Shattering tend not to have problems with cold blood, or actively enjoy it. Vampires sired only a few decades before it prefer warm, but are willing to drink cold. The older they get, the more opposition they show. Whether it be for cultural reasons or purely culinary ones, a lot of vampires who have been around a century or more are worried about hot blood going away.”

“And? Is it?”

He shook his head firmly. “Definitely not. As long as the demand is there, and it will always be there, there will always be that option. Especially at places that cater to the lavish crowd, the vampires with old blood and old money. It may become more of a delicacy, but it’s not really being replaced.”

I stared into my empty glass for a long moment, then finally murmured, “I hope so.”

We finished dinner and split the bill. We shook hands, said our goodbyes, and parted ways.

I tried to read when I got home, but echoes of our conversation lingered in my mind and sent me brooding.

What are we if we forsake the hunt? What about lineage, birthright? Humanity has us under their boot and we should just accept that? Suck up to the humans and forget centuries of history?

Is this so-called safety worth bending the knee? Is this so-called freedom worth sacrificing our place at the top of the food chain?

I remembered blood. Blood from my victims. Blood pouring down my throat. Blood on my hands, staining them.

Once, I fed at my whim, and I fed on whoever looked like a good meal. Any day of the week, any hour of the night, all according to my mood. When the Shattering tore away those halcyon days, I was reduced to scraps. Chances slipping away one-by-one until entire months went by where every drop of blood I drank was tainted by plastic or glass.

Am I supposed to be satisfied with that? Can any of us be satisfied with that meager existence? How does Eveline even bear it?

Slowly the energy drained away from me, and a single question remained:

What is best for Eveline?

I pushed that thought away and crawled into bed right as the sun came up.

Monday.

My fangs ached. Hunger was calling my name, whispering to me of fragile vessels and a delicious prize.

It was feeding day.

A few months ago I’d started feeding again. Just a bite here or there. Then a few times a month. Then every week.

It wasn’t enough. I wanted more.

At the stroke of midnight I left my apartment and concealed myself in the shadows. Humans were diurnal creatures, but plenty of them strayed from shelter amid the dark, hurrying away to whatever petty desires motivated them.

Easy enough to find one more vulnerable than the rest. A sickly gazelle at the edge of the herd. I tasted her weakness in the air, and I followed her through the city’s steel labyrinth.

She made a wrong turn, then another, and I could feel her confusion and fear rising as she slowly realized how lost she was getting, her sense of direction stolen from her. She hit a dead end, and as she turned around to leave, I stepped out in front of her.

She waved weakly at me, nervousness radiating from her. I smirked, and my fangs were clear to see. My eyes gleamed, revealed in glorious crimson. I tasted the exact moment that her nervous fear turned to desperate terror.

My prey took one step forward, but no further. She was paralyzed, bound in place by my power, unable to move an inch no matter how much she wanted to run until her legs gave out. My smirk only widened, and I drew close enough to feel her panicked breath heating the air.

I touched her cheek gently and felt her tension drain away as my presence numbed her thoughts. She stopped fighting back, her breathing slowed, and her fearful gaze became placid and dull. She was mine, and her blood sang to me with a thousand luxurious promises.

I lowered my fangs to her neck and tasted skin so soft and frail. She was so vulnerable, it would be so simple, so easy. It would only take one push. One moment. One bite.

So why… was I hesitating?

Cordelia. If vampires can’t play by the rules, we’ll be snuffed out like candle flames before a cold breeze.

You were human, once, Cordelia. We all were, every last vampire.

The voices of Eveline and Lewis came unbidden. Mocking me. Goading me. Knives under my skin.

Damn it.

I pushed the human away. I growled at her, “Run,” and she bolted.

I stuffed my hands in my coat and started walking home. My throat was dry, and I had a headache that throbbed. The taste of blood was already swimming in my thoughts, taunting me maddeningly. Why had I let her go? Why had I let them get to me?

I was a sovereign of the night, a queen of the dark! I was…

I sighed. I’m no one.

As I reached my apartment complex, my phone buzzed. A text from Evie: I saw what happened, Cordie. I’m proud of you <3

I stared at the text for a long moment, trying to figure out how she’d followed me undetected. Then I gave up and just smiled softly at my phone.

I guess that’s worth losing a meal.