I trail after him. “Will you live in the country after uni?”
“Will you?”
“I don’t know why you haven’t given up on animals altogether.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the American vampires just drink people, don’t they?”
He scowls at me over his shoulder. “I’m not a murderer, Snow.”
“Lamb said you don’t have to murder people. You can just drink.”
“Well, I’m not a parasite either.” Baz stops, crouches. “Or a thief.”
“You wouldn’t have to steal it.”
“Good idea, I’ll find a blood bank and open an account.”
“Come on, don’t be thick—you know I’d give it to you.”
He stands up abruptly, facing me. “Don’t say that, Simon.”
I shrug. “But I would.” I would.
Baz looks fierce. “Don’t be idiotic! We don’t even know how it works—I might drink too much.”
“You wouldn’t.” He wouldn’t.
“I could accidentally Turn you.”
“We’ll do research,” I say. “I’ll get Penny on it.”
“Don’t youdaremention this to Bunce. Just stop, all right? I don’t even want to think about this.”
“You’d rather drink London rats than me?”
Baz’s eyes are wide. He’s shaking his head. “Fuck you,Snow.”
“Someday, perhaps. I’ve been told there’s hope.” I see something scurrying past me, and stomp on it. “Hey, look—I got one!”
BAZ
Simon Snow is grinning at me, holding out a live rat like a single-stemmed rose.
I stare at him.
He shakes the screeching rat. “Finish him off,” he says, “before he starts to grow on me.”
I take the rat and put it out of its misery.
Who will put me out of mine? I used to think it would be this fool. “You’re not even wearing gloves,” I say, still dumbfounded.
“Just ‘Clean as a whistle’ me.”
“That’ll only get you—”
“Clean as a whistle, I know. But right now, I’m clean as a rat.”
