I miss you, Becky.
Morgan was wondering what nightlife in a vampire city would look like, and it was pretty much everything he expected. Although there were some surprises. Shops stayed open longer, for example. And it wasn’t always immediately obvious whether he was talking to a vampire or a mortal. Pale skin and red lips were the fashion; h`e had to watch for hints of fang.
People mixed pretty well, though. Most of them were mortals; the vampires dressed better, and moved quieter, but that was about it. Although there were a few that seemed almost — well, not exactly jittery. But real energetic. The mortals gave them a little space, but so did the vampires.
It interested Morgan enough to have him ask one bartender. Her nametag said ‘Rhiannon,’ and he was interested to see she was a vampire herself. “Those guys? They’re dhampirs. Half-vampires,” she explained after seeing Morgan’s look. “They’re changing, but haven’t gotten there yet.”
“That normal?” said Morgan. “Unless that’s a dumb question to ask in public. I can mind my own business, I swear.”
“It’s normal for some of ‘em,” Rhiannon said. “You usually need a few sessions to vamp out. Some people, they like the in-between part, hey? You get a little stronger, a little faster, but you can still go outside during the day. It’s not a bad deal, for a while.” She leaned forward, and so did Morgan. “And sometimes, the vampire who’s supposed to vamp them out doesn’t do it for them right away. Keeps ‘em motivated, and all that.”
“Not everybody does that, though?”
Rhiannon shook her head. “No! Sure, we have to keep from having too many vampires around at once, but leading somebody on like that? That’s just mean.” She sounded legitimately offended about that, which for some reason struck Morgan as pretty funny.