His face was exotic, in the way that people can be when some ancestor didn't come from Northern or Southern Europe. Vampires are tricky bastards, he said. I snatched them from his hand, but couldn't think of a slick way of getting them on. She looked down at her hands on the tabletop.
They were golden brown, and the smell of them filled the kitchen. Someone had flooded the bathtub. The alley was an alley, which meant it was narrow, cramped, not as clean as you'd like, not as well lit as you'd prefer, and made my claustrophobia complain. She smiled up at me.
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