Free Undead and Unwed by MaryJanice Davidson

complaining. Now that I'm recovering from the shock, I mean. It's no worse than what I did to you. Thanks for taking matters into your own hands, as opposed to planting your dick in me."
      "You didn't rape that man," he said out of nowhere. His gaze was firm and uncompromising. "If you bit someone and had sex with them...it wasn't rape. He wanted to. In fact, it was probably like he had to."
      I didn't want to talk about that. Being overwhelmed by a bloodsucker and needing to fuck them didn't mean the bloodsucker wasn't the bad guy. "Never mind. Let's get off this roof, what do you say...err...?"
      "Marc."
      "I'm Betsy."
      "Betsy?"
      "Don’t start. I can't help it if I've got unholy powers and a stupid first name."
      He laughed again. It was the laugh that made us friends, which I thought was just fine.
    CHAPTER TWELVE
     
      "You need a sidekick," Marc announced. He'd just finished his second plateful of steak and eggs. I was sticking with tea and honey.  
      "I've already got one," I said gloomily. "My friend Jessica."
      "I mean a badass, not someone from the secretarial pool."
      I stuck a finger in his face. "First of all, do not mock secretaries, nor their pools—I was a secretary until last week."
      "Then you died?"
      "No, I was laid off. Then I died. In fact, I should take a drive by the place...it's probably gone up in flames by now." I chortled evilly. "When they laid off the admin staff, they lost the capability to call their clients, make their computers work, make the sorter on the copy machine work, place orders for office supplies, update the database, figure out the postage machine...oh, the humanity." I grinned at the mental image, then got back to business. "Second, Jessica is at least twice as smart as anyone sitting at this table. Third—cripes, how much are you going to eat?" During my scolding he'd flagged the waitress.
      "I've been a little too depressed to eat lately," he said defensively. "Besides, you're just jealous."
      "You're right about that. My mom fixed my favorite meal the other night and I threw it up all over her bathroom."
      "But you can drink...?" He nodded toward my tea.
      "Apparently. Doesn't do a thing for me...sure doesn't make me less thirsty. But it's familiar, you know?"
      "Sure. That's why I stay in the ER. It's depressing as hell and you get no closure, but at least I know where everything is."
      "That's ridiculous. If you're so unhappy in that job, leave.   Go work in a nice family clinic somewhere."
      He shrugged, looking down on his plate. "Yeah, well..."
      "I mean, it must be hard. Working in a children's hospital."
      "It's unbelievably awful," he said gloomily. "You would not believe the evil shit people do to children."
      "I don't want to hear it," I said hurriedly.
      "I don't want to talk about it, but it's all I do. Actually, I want to talk to you about it. You've got to—to feed, right? Well, I could get you a list of abusive parents, the ones who like to use their babies as ash trays, the ones who decide to press a hot iron to the kid's back because she slammed the door a little too hard. And you could—fix things."
      "A blood sucking vigilante?" I was horrified. And intrigued. No, I was horrified. "Did you not hear me? About how until last week I was a secretary?"
      "Not anymore," Marc said smugly. Now that he'd thought he'd found a purpose, his entire demeanor—even his smell!—was different. Gone was the slump-shouldered sad-eyed boy. In his place was the Cisco Kid. "You told me you thought you'd fight crime to atone for your feeding habits, right? Well, where better to start?"  
      I just shook my head and stirred my tea.  
      "Well, what's your alternative? You don't seem the type to skulk in the shadows and lure the unwary into your fiendish embrace."
      The mental image made me laugh.
      "And another thing—vampires don't giggle."
      "This one does. And before I forget..." My hand shot out. I pulled