Good & Dead #1 by Jamie Wahl Page A

and dungeons?”
    “No.  There’s dice, and…” Michael coughed on a spicy pocket of pepper in his broccoli, “It’s complicated.  You kind of have to experience it.”  He took a large gulp of water.
    “There are a lot of things like that in life,” Her emerald eyes sparkled wickedly.
    Michael choked and sputtered, water dribbling down his front.
    Bell laughed louder than he had heard her laugh before, her face bright and her smile wide.  She was still laughing when she leaned forward and tossed him her napkin. 
    “Oh, you are fun, Michael.  I’m glad I met you,” She said, pulling her legs up gracefully to sit cross-legged in her wing back chair. 
    I wish I could say the same.
    Bell’s smile faded a bit, and she eyed him appraisingly for a moment before throwing back the last of her wine.
    “Now,” She said, “It’s your turn.  What do you want to know?” she opened her arms invitingly, “I’m an open book,” she said, checking her phone, “for exactly thirteen more minutes.  Then I have to run.”
    Oh good , Michael thought, I think so clearly with a ticking clock.  Michael knew what he most wanted to ask, but he remembered how she had responded when he’d asked her if it could be reversed, and he couldn’t forget what happened to Chad, no matter how much he wanted to.  He cleared his throat nervously.
    “What will happen if I decide not to…feed?”
    She sighed deeply.  “Michael,” she said under her breath, standing and turning to the dinner cart.  She placed the smallest silver tray on the table and lifted the lid, to reveal a cheesecake with a gooey raspberry center.  She carefully cut a slender piece, placed it on a plate, and set it in front of Michael.
    “I don’t think that’s an option,” she said calmly, sitting down in front of her own piece of dessert.  She tucked her long red hair behind her ears and resumed her casual posture.  She looked at him with her clear green eyes, and Michael found he couldn’t look away.  “In about 24 hours you will want blood.  It will be all you can think about.  In 48 hours you won’t even see people anymore.  All you’ll see is the pulsing of their veins.  All you’ll hear is the beating of their hearts,” she selected the longest spoon and held it up with a smile.  “Linda will be so proud,” she took a small bite. 
    “In 48 hours you will feed,” she said matter-of-factly, “and you’ll feed on the closest warm body.”
    Michael looked down at his plate.  He had never wanted food less.
    “Is it possible to…feed…but not kill the person?” he asked quietly, all his hopes riding on the question.
    “Yes,” Bell said, “That’s how you turn someone into a vampire.”
    Michael deflated.  He couldn’t do this to anyone.  He wasn’t sure which was worse yet; life as a vampire or death.
    “But you can’t be sure they’ll survive anyway.  The transformation process is…taxing.  You are still experiencing that,” she said with her dazzling smile.  “Besides, it takes a great deal of self-control to stop once you’ve started,” she said, enjoying another bite of cheesecake.
    Someone chose to do this to me.   Michael was surprised by his own anger.  Whoever it was that he met in that alley chose not to kill him.  They chose to make him live as a vampire.  Michael glared at nothing, staring out into the spacious grounds, the dark grass going on for miles.
    “During the unconscious hours, when the mortal is closest to death, I believe there is a moment of choice.  You can see where this world and the next meet, and you choose to walk forward or walk back.  You and I chose to walk back.”
    Michael’s anger dissipated.  He slumped in his chair and ran his hands through his messy hair.  Why would I choose this?  “I don’t remember that.”
    She waved that away.  “That’s normal.  Parts of it may come back to you, or they may not.  I wouldn’t worry too much about it.  All that