The sound of Mark clearing his throat brought me back down to earth, and I pulled away, blushing furiously. Angus whirled around towards my brother, and almost snarled at him. His eyes flashed briefly, and then he closed them, clenching his jaw and breathing deeply.
"Coffee, remember?" Mark sounded nervous.
"Thanks, Mark." Angus' voice was level and controlled, his eyes still closed.
I sat down and Mark handed me a tiny cup of black, greasy looking liquid. I glanced towards Angus, and saw that he was still standing, his eyes now open, and that he too had a cup in his hand. His eyes were brown again, and he was frowning slightly.
"Are you planning on staying up the whole night?" he asked my brother.
"It looks a bit strong, doesn't it," Mark agreed. "I followed the instructions."
"Fair enough," Angus grinned at him, and Mark suddenly looked very relieved.
"Man, I thought you were going to bite my head off there."
"It crossed my mind." Angus admitted.
"That's the first time you actually looked like a vampire," Mark continued. "Cool."
"Is that what I am, what we are?" I interrupted him. "Vampires? I thought you were joking, Mark." I looked at Angus for confirmation. He hesitated slightly, then nodded.
"Historically, yes, we would have been called vampires."
"But where are the fangs?" Mark wanted to know.
"No fangs."
"So how did you puncture peoples' jugulars?"
"Bite through them. And it's not the jugular we went for, but the carotid. The jugular is a vein, and carries slow blood to the heart, but the carotid is the large artery that you can feel pulsating in your neck, here," he pointed to his own throat, "and that's much faster, and the blood tastes better too." I didn't want to know how he knew something like that.
"I don't need to drink blood now, do I?" I heard the edge of panic in my own voice.
"No. That's what the iron tablets are for. But we need to be careful how much we give you. Marcus reckons we should start at five a day, and work up slowly from there. Too little, and you could start to feel weak again, but too much can make you a bit mad. Too much power, too much sensory input, it can all become very overwhelming very quickly. Reality becomes a distant memory."
"Oh goody," I muttered. This was getting better and better. Not only was I some sort of metabolic oddity, but there was a good chance I could become insane too.