Loren chatted amiably with the dark vampire, and Micah got them each a glass of blood. Then he led the teen through the glass doors and out onto a patio overlooking the ocean. He dropped into a rattan chair and lit a cigarette. The smoke spiraled upwards to disappear in the star strewn night, like a thread of silver. It made him think of another night before he'd turned into this. He could almost smell the bike shop; tires, oil, sawdust. Lo Dog, his so-called friend, stood in the doorway, using every inch of his six foot seven bulk to be intimidating. "You take that money, Micah?"
"f**k no. I wouldn't steal s**t off you. I'm not the one who fuckin' needs cash."
Dog took a menacing step closer. "What the f**k's that 'sposed to mean?"
"Why don't you ask Trick about that?"
Lo Dog's face
