"Why did you leave?" Mark asked through a mouthful of pizza.
"I'm not sure. There was nothing to keep me there, I suppose. Our family lands are pretty extensive, and we have a huge house out there. Marcus was able to set up a state of the art lab in a purpose built addition to the house, and Fergus snuck his computers in there one day and never left. They had all they needed. Marcus did loads of degrees, Fergus made loads of money."
"Do they look like you?" Mark again. His curiosity knew no bounds.
"No. They have light greyish eyes and blonde hair. So when they get excited their pupils dilate and it looks like their eyes have changed colour from grey to black. Our eyes are different to yours. When our 'fight or flight' response kicks in, our pupils dilate completely, so you can't see any of the coloured part of the eye at all. I blend in better because my eyes are dark anyway. The change is not so noticeable."
"I've noticed it," muttered Mark. Angus grinned wickedly at him.
"And yet, here you sit, still alive, and eating my pizza."
Mark grinned back. "It's 'cause your cat likes me, isn't it?"
"Why else?"
"She needs a name, you know." I decided to interrupt. The kitten was still cuddled up on my lap. She was asleep now, and her paws twitched wildly as she stalked her prey in the throes of feline dreams.
We spent the rest of the afternoon debating about what to name the kitten. Mark and I did anyway, while Angus stretched out in his armchair and watched us with amused eyes. The debate got a bit heated when Mark suggested calling the cat Quark, because she was so tiny, and it rhymed with 'Mark'. Angus eventually interrupted us to point out that our mother would be arriving home in about ten minutes. The idea of going home was unwelcome, but we both stood up reluctantly. The kitten had wandered off to find something to eat earlier, and hadn't returned yet.
"I should be OK to go to school tomorrow?" It was a question, not a statement. I was worried about the whole prospect of attacking somebody and drinking their blood. It was not something I'd ever wanted to do before, but things were clearly changing. And people out there were unlikely to be as understanding as Mark and Angus.
"That depends. Now that you know how you react to the smell of blood, you will probably do your best to avoid spilling any again." He grinned at me, teasing.
"Very funny. So you think it will be OK."