Julias tried to turn his head around to look at them, but he couldn’t. Everything was going dark, and torpor crept up his spine, demanding he sleep....Only a mouthful of fresh human blood would stave off torpor now, and unless one of the hunters was feeling generous, they wouldn’t give it to him.“K ... Kill him,” Angela said, coughing up another wad of blood, her bruising neck straining. “Kill Mire.”Julias managed a smile. It’d be in the hunter’s favor to capture him, but Angela wasn’t the. I was a born voyeur. I loved the surprise viewing, the forbidden glance, the occasional deliberate flash from a stranger.I remembered each and every special event of this kind that I'd ever witnessed -- the coed back at school in the opposite wing of the dorm -- the one who never pulled her shades. I figured there were a couple of dozen of us who still remembered her!The girl at the bus stop whose starched blouse, a bit too large, gapped open between the buttons and displayed her large, bare. More

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