The moon illuminated my path through the graveyard as I walked behind the woman who had made me a vampire. We were both silent for much of the way, a fragile truce that agreed to keep the obvious unspoken.

I wasn’t capable of deliberately doing myself in, dead or alive or undead or whatever I was. I still felt like me, except…

Was that adrenaline putting that impatient bounce in my step? I ran my tongue over my teeth, hoping the bite of pain would grant me a little more control. It was a struggle to keep from rushing past my guide, in search of—what?

Fangs. I should have expected them, but they hadn’t been there when I first checked, in those beginning seconds of my new existence.

“What is happening to me?” I demanded as we passed through the gates.

She glanced back. “You hunger,” she said, as though my swollen teeth and burgeoning need could be solved by a simple trip through the drive-through.

“Am I supposed to kill anyone?” I asked, reconsidering a dawn suicide.

“Do you want to?” She smiled.