thai, so I fixed you up a batch,” he said, plunking a big orange serving on Poe’s already teetering plate. “It was the only dish I 155
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could make because I had to grind rice into flour to make the proper noodles for the dish. Preparation alone took almost all day.”
“Quit making excuses, old man.” Petra tapped him on the shoulder to get him out of her way. She must have been in her seventies but still dyed her hair crow black. Traces of hair coloring stained her forehead and neck. “I made only two dishes, but you’re going to love them,” Petra assured the half-drooling Poe. “I made you some sayur lodeh soup – that’s Indonesian vegetable soup with coconut milk – and some Guamanian red rice.
Poe had never heard of some of the dishes, but she was more than willing to taste. She beamed but avoided the eyes of her fellow diners. It dawned on her that with the exception of a handful of youthful vampires, the library was filled with people over twenty years her senior. Of course, true vampire age was impossible to guess from afar.
“You guys are some of the best people I’ve ever met,” Poe said, and she meant it. “If you ever need anything…”
“Eat up, girl,” Ray ordered the girl who was on the verge of sniffling. “You need to replenish after your little adventure this afternoon.”
“Where did all this food come from?”
“From the Valley, of course,” said Habib.
“Haven’t you heard of the holy roller farmers who supply meat and vegetables to Los Angles in exchange for some autonomy?”
Poe shook her head.
“Well they’re vampires who drink only animal blood and farm at night. They stay away from the politics rampant around here. Occasionally they’re called upon by the Council, but mostly they’re left 156
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alone. They’re responsible for feeding the humans of our city.”
All five sat on a table with a reserved sign on it saying: Sit here and DIE!
Poe inhaled the saliva-inducing aroma, imagining all those years of eating cold, slimy canned nibbles.
She shivered, hoping she would never have to suffer that fate again. Just to eat this feast regularly, Poe was almost willing to be Sainvire’s gopher and occasional blood supplier. Almost.
She dug in, but before she could take her first bite, Maple and Joseph appeared by her elbow. She gave Joseph a nasty look and brought the garlic okra to her mouth. However, Joseph’s seriousness made her fork waver. Something was wrong.
Maple, looking nervous, told Poe to follow her.
“But I’m eating.” Poe said.
“Can’t you wait until after our friend here has finished her meal?” demanded Ray, looking like a Hobbit with his girth.
“Yeah. She hasn’t even taken a bite yet,” Petra agreed, pursing her heavily lined smoker’s lips.
“Poe needs to come with us now,” Joseph insisted, his mouth tight with worry.
“But–”
“The Council has summoned her to appear before them,” Maple announced quietly. This time, the chefs did not protest. Aghast, they looked at Poe with fear.
Her appetite vanished.
Habib slid the tray away from Poe, saying, “I’ll keep this warm for you, dear girl.”
The other cooks nodded, looking suddenly ill.
Janice had to disengage the okra-heavy fork from Poe’s hand. She knew then that something sinister was going to happen to her.
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The Council equals ancient vampires with crazy powers. She’d killed a few of Trench’s people and lied about non-existent underground guerrillas. I’m history, and I’m ethnic!
The quiet trek to the first floor lobby was terribly funereal. Maple and Joseph didn’t explain anything, but their grim mouths said it all.
By the entrance stood Sainvire, his long, dark coat already on. Perla fidgeted nervously beside the tall vampire and smiled weakly at Poe. She handed the girl a newly laundered coat, the armaments, and her pack that contained all the blessed ammo she was going to need for the night. Her new set of weapons seemed to follow her from room to room. Sainvire inclined his head at her, his unnerving eyes flashing with restrained energy.
“No doubt they’ve told you,” he indicated Joseph and Maple, “the Council sent a messenger requesting your attendance this evening.”
Poe nodded. Asking why would have been insipid and pointless, because everyone already knew that she was going to be tortured and turned into a bedpan emptier before morning. With a sigh, she put on her coat, thinking that this was her last night on earth, and she didn’t even have a proper last meal. She stooped down to double-knot her sneakers.
Her self-pity ended when