‘Said it wasn’t art.’‘That doesn’t much surprise me.’‘No?’‘You can’t appreciate what you don’t get.’‘And they don’t get it...’‘No.’All she could hear was her own shallow breathing. ‘What don’t they get?’‘What it means to be alive.’‘What are they missing?’‘Well–do they look like they fuck?’ She swallowed down an involuntary bark of laughter at his words. ‘Properly, I mean. Like our fiery friends here…’‘No, they don’t. But then…’ Her excited heartbeat slowed as another emotion cast its cloud. ‘It. He smiled, despite the blood-sucker's attempt to spoil his good mood."Hey, baby," he said, rolling over, "good morn..."He frowned at the empty pillow on her side of the bed. For the briefest of moments he feared that the whole night had been a dream. He splayed his fingers, dragging them over the indentation on the pillow where her head had been."Camille?" he called, squinting his eyes against the glare of the early morning sunshine.His mind was unclear, still befuddled by the rare deep sleep. More

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