“When you say it that way, Fang, I wrote in my little IM window, I always hear Bela Lugosi’s Dracula. Maybe that’s how I’d intended it to sound, Sam. What’s on your mind? My fingers briefly hovered over the keyboard before I typed: How can I keep doing my job...if I no longer care? Care about what? If people die? His answer came a half minute later: I’m not sure what to say to that, Moon Dance. But surely you agree, I wrote. We are the same, you and I. We are hunters, are... we not? We are, Sam. But we can decide who to hunt and what to hunt and when to hunt. Or to not hunt at all. You have a viable source of blood from a willing donor. I shook my head there on my couch, although he couldn’t see me shake it. The lights were out and, although it wasn’t quite twilight yet, the room was dark enough.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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