Vampire heart

A Stranger

leamed in the downpour, alive with headlights and hurried footsteps. But in the shadow of the aging buildings near River Road, t

e was M

s the name he had ch

ma and something more bitter-fear, perhaps, or longing. His boots made no sound on the wet pavement. A man in

it now.

as h

a rumor carried by a dying priest in Casablanca. All of it had led him here. Somewhere in this city, pulsing beneath the

eyes, letting the h

here

es ago as he lay tangled in warm limbs, counting the seconds between he

door. A bar. Of course. Humans always gathered in the places where their emotions bled eas

astered the trick of passing unseen when he wished it. Inside, the bar was loud, t

he sa

youth. His laughter was loud and careless as he leaned across the bar to snatch a drink f

's heart-his he

he crooked smile and poet's hands, who had sung to him beneath the Baobab tree and kissed him like salvation. E

e was. Or some

ond c

ded on Malakai-and for a moment, they both stilled. The boy tilted his head slightly

ssed. He laughed again, raising his glass. But his

as e

ack into the nigh

lf-awake. In a small flat off Juja Road, the boy from the bar-whose name was Ayo-w

d at him like he knew him. Not in a creepy way, exactly. There had been so

at tasted like salt and fire. He always woke up breathless and aching. He chalked it up to stress, m

ation, s

at woul

f thing. He believed in rent. And university deadlines. And trying not to fall in love with

T-shirt and gra

his cousin. The other fro

both and

e a shadow. The hunger had started to build again. Not the need

he need

uld souls be reborn, ev

et close. Carefull

to make the sam

epped into

two centuries, the heart i

d turned. And

had bee