A tatter of amusement drew Raven’s attention to a plump young men pushing a cart up the aisle toward them. he was the first shopper they’d come across since entering the store. Between the debacles with the bloody meat bags, the raspberry tea in the living room, and the bit of time Paxton had taken to settle in and change, it was now nearly midnight. The Memnar Cisco grocery store wasn’t very busy at this hour.

Now that his giggle had caught his attention, the shopper batted his eyelashes at Raven and he found himself smiling back, his gaze fixed on the pulse at the base of his throat. He imagined sinking his teeth there and drawing the warm, sweet blood out of him while ripping the sweet juicy tender flesh off of him and cleaning it off down to the bone. He was his favorite sort of Fresh bloody meat. Plump, pink men always had the best, richest bloody meat. Thick and heavy and-

“Mr. Remington? Earth calling Raven!”

Raven’s pleasant imaginings shattered. He turned reluctantly back to his editor. “Yes?”

“What do you like to drink?” Paxton repeated. Raven glanced back at the shopper. “ER… coffee’s fine.”

“You said you don’t drink cof-Nevermind. What brand? Raven surveyed the choices. His eyes settled on a dark Black can with white writing on the it, with the name Blue Jack Daniels. He’d always thought that was a doughnut shop or something. Still, it was the only name he recognized, so he pointed at it.

“The most expensive one, of course,” Paxton muttered. He picked up a can of fine grind. Raven hadn’t noticed the price. “Stop complaining. I am paying for the groceries.” Raven grunted. “No. I said I’d pay and I will.” Had Paxton said he’d pay when he’d mentioned it earlier? Raven wondered. He couldn’t recall; he hadn’t been paying much attention at the time. His thoughts had been on other things. Like the bloody squished meat dripping down the sink and not into his parched mouth. Ravens gaze slid back to the plump, pulsing-veined shopper who continued past him. He imagined he looked like a starving man watching a buffet being wheeled past. He was hard-pressed not to throw himself onto it. Warm, fresh bloody meat … much nicer than that cold bagged stuff he and his family had taken to ingesting. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the old-fashioned ways of feeding.

“Raven?” there was a touch of irritation in Paxton booth’s voice, and it made him scowl as he turned back. Paxton wasn’t where he’d last stood, but had moved on down the aisle and was waiting for him. Paxton wore an annoyed expression, which in turn annoyed Raven. What did Paxton have to be irritable about? He wasn’t the one starving.

Then Raven had a vague recollection of Paxton saying he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and he supposed he was hungry too and therefore had just as much right to be grouchy. Even if Paxton looked like that cute green monster that live in the trash can on that kids T.v. show. It was still a grudging admission. “I am paying,” Raven announced firmly as he pushed the cart forward. “You are a guest in my home. I will feed you.” As opposed to feeding on you, he thought, which was what he most wanted to do.