There are certain known facts about vampires. They revile change. They are obsessive-compulsive. They are illogical. They are cursed. They will burst into flames in sunlight.
They are dying.
With less than a hundred vampires left in the world, Yas...
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Dr. Dwight-Baker,
Sorry, but I have a sudden work situation come up. I've asked my manager to send you an email, too. I understand if you won't forgive the missed attendance, but is it okay if I email you the homework? I still have my syllabus copy. I didn't bring any textbooks; it was kind of unplanned. Please let me know if that's okay?
Sorry for the trouble, Juniper McCleary
P.S. didn't you do a primer lecture a few years ago on behavioral patterns of functionally extinct species? Is it on YouTube? I'd really like to watch it.
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"Can you get me a can of—"
"Yeah, yeah." Juniper waved off Feldick's sour look, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he trotted towards the gas station.
Inappropriate it might be, but he was in a good mood. He liked his classes, one of the rare things he'd been given leave to choose for himself, but an excuse from schoolwork was always welcome, especially when the excuse involved Yasuko. Even better, he'd garnered praise from Breeze about the tracker, another bright point to the day. It had been a terse, slightly suspicious bit of praise—Breeze was probably wondering how Juniper had managed it without the vampire noticing, or why Juniper had put it there to start with—but it was praise, all the same.
