Aaron woke disoriented. The door rattled as someone fumbled with the
lock. Aaron glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It read 2 a.m. The door
finally and Blade stumbled in. Aaron flicked on the lamp, wincing at the
illumination. Blade hissed and put his hand up.
“Turn that off,” he complained.
Aaron shook his head. “No. Where have you been?”
Blade sat next to him on the bed and tugged off his shoes. “Told ya.
Went to meet the locals. Ran into someone I knew. Talked. Drank.”
Aaron wrinkled his nose at the odors emanating from the vampire.
Smoke, alcohol and sex. “Where exactly did you go to talk?”
“Dunno, some club.”
“Are you drunk?”
The vampire wrinkled his brow as he considered the question. “Might
be. This is France. They ferment or distill everything.” He cursed as he
struggled with his clothing. He gave up and lay back on the bed.
Aaron sighed and pulled a blanket over the unconscious vampire. It
had never occurred to him that vampires could get drunk. As he curled up on the
other side of the bed, he wondered if vampires got hangovers.
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