"Yeah, you'd better move that up the list."

"And add a bottle of whiskey. You're going to have to buy it."

"Sorry, writer boy, but we're doing this stupid list together."

"I'm not old enough to buy liquor."

Jody stepped away from him and shuddered. "That's right. Isn't it?"

"Yep," Tommy said, nodding—trying to look wide-eyed and innocent.

"Well, okay then. I should have checked IDs before picking my bitch."

"Hey!"

"Kidding. What are you going to do with a bottle of whiskey anyway?"

"Check something else off the list," Tommy said. "I have an idea. Get your purse."

"What did the Animals want, anyway?"

"Twenty grand."

"I hope you told them to fuck themselves."

"They did that already."

"Did they suspect, you know, about what you are now?"

"Not yet. Lash said I looked a little pale. I sent them to the store. If Clint knows, well—"

"Oh, good move. Maybe we should just take out an ad. 'Young vampire couple seeks angry village people to hunt them down and kill them. »

"Ha. Village people. Funny. Put self-tanning lotion on the list. I think the pale thing is giving me away."

At seven in the evening, three days before Christmas, Union Square was awash in shoppers. There was a Santa's Village set up in the raised square, with a line of children and parents that wound five hundred deep through a labyrinth of red velvet cattle gates. Around the square, the street performers, who would normally have knocked off around five, lined the granite steps up to the square. A juggler here, a sleight-of-hand guy there, a half-dozen "robots" — people painted silver and gold who would move in machine-jerk rhythm for the drop of a coin or a bill—and even a couple of human statues. Jody's favorite was a gold guy in a business suit, who stood motionless for hours on end, as if he'd been frozen in midstep on the way to work. There was a small hole in his briefcase into which people stuffed bills and dropped coins after photographing him or trying to make him flinch.

"This guy used to freak me out," Tommy whispered. "But now I can see him breathing and the aura thing."

"I watched him for a whole lunch hour one time and he never moved," Jody said. "In the summer, you know he has to be suffering in that painted suit." Suddenly she shuddered at the thought of Elijah, the old vampire, still encased in bronze back at the loft. Yes, he had killed her, technically, but in a way he'd just opened a door for her, a door that, no matter how bizarre, was immediate, vital, and passionate. And yes, he'd done it for his amusement, he'd said, but also because he was lonely.

She wound her arm into Tommy's and kissed him on the cheek.

"What was that for?"

"Because you're here," she said. "What's first on the list?"

"Christmas presents."

"Skip down."

"Sweet monkey love."

"Yeah, we'll do it in the Santa's Workshop window at Macy's."

"Really?"

"No, not really."

"Okay, then we need liquor."

Jody snatched the list out of his hand so quickly that most people wouldn't have even seen her move. "You are no longer in charge of the list. We're getting me a new leather jacket."

I AM HOMELESS AND SOMEONE SHAVED MY HUGE CAT. William had changed his sign. Chet the huge cat was still wearing Jody's sweater. He eyed the two vampires suspiciously as they approached.

Tommy held the bottle of Johnny Walker out to William. "Merry Christmas."

William took the liquor and squirreled it away in his coat. "Most people just give money," he said.

"We're cutting out the middleman," Jody said. "How are you feeling today?"

"Great, why? Really good, you know, considering that I'm homeless and you guys shaved my cat."

"You were pretty hammered last night."

"Yeah, but I feel great today."

"That's how it used to affect me," Tommy said. "Remember. Kind of energizing."

Jody waved Tommy away. "You didn't get light-headed or anything?" Jody asked.

"I was a little hungover when I woke up, but I was fine after a couple of cups of coffee."

"Fuck!" Jody spat. Then she held her head.

"Calm," Tommy said, patting her shoulder. "Dr. Flood will make it all better. Maybe."

Jody growled, just loud enough for Tommy to hear.

"Ya know," said William, when there was a break in the pedestrian traffic and he didn't have to concentrate on looking pathetic, "I'm flush for cash, but since you're in the Christmas spirit, I'd still go for a look at Red's hooters."

"Bite me, dirtbag," Jody said as she rolled up on William.

"Honey." Tommy caught the back of her newly purchased red leather jacket, just in case. They'd never know if his idea was going to work if Jody snapped the bum's neck.

"I will not be sexually harassed by the entree."

"Something you ate isn't agreeing with you?" Tommy grinned at her when she looked back at him, but the fire went out of her eyes.

"You can just cross sweet monkey love right off your list," Jody said.

"Jeez, what a bitch," said William. "Her time of the month?"

Tommy quickly wrapped his arms around Jody, lifted her off her feet, and carried her a few steps around the corner, even as she squirmed.

"Let me go, I'm not going to hurt him."

"Good."

"Much."

"That's what I thought," Tommy said, still holding her tight. "Why don't you head over to the Walgreens and I'll finish up with the huge cat guy?"

A family of Christmas shoppers smiled as they passed them, thinking they were young lovers indulging in a public display of affection. The father whispered "Get a room" under his breath to his wife, which a normal person wouldn't have heard.

"Count your lucky stars, buddy, we almost did it in the Santa's Workshop window. Hot, sweaty elf sex—in front of the kids. The kids would have liked that, huh?"

The father hurried his family on down the street.

"Nice," Jody said. "Way to stay under the radar."

"Well, you know, I like to stay sharp," Tommy said. Because he was nineteen and had only started having sex regularly since he met Jody, he still thought he had some sort of secret knowledge that was unavailable to other people. How can they possibly be thinking about anything else? he thought in the private part of his mind.

"I'll bet it smells like peppermint," Tommy said.

"What?"

"Elf sex."

"Would you please put me down."

"Okay, but don't hurt the huge cat guy."

"I'm fine. I'll meet you at the drugstore in five minutes. This had better work."

"Five minutes," Tommy said. "Cinnamon. Maybe it smells like cinnamon."

The pale couple stalked the aisles of the Walgreens, having a great time dismissing the crass accoutrements of bourgeois American life, and generally scoffing at all the conventions of traditional culture. They were elite, after all. Special. Chosen—if you will—if only by the nature of their heightened sensitivities and superior sensibilities. They both claimed the ability to look past the façade put on by most people, and see the very depths of the human soul. Strange, then, that they didn't see it coming when the skinny guy in a flannel shirt popped around the corner in front of them.

"Let's ask these guys," Flannel said. "They look like heroin addicts."

Jared White Wolf and Abby Normal backpedaled from the eyeliner display where they'd been looking for something hypoallergenic. Abby's eyes had been watering all night, causing her makeup to run and giving her more of a sad-clown-of-life look than she was going for.

Jared hid behind Abby, just a little, which was awkward, since he was nearly a foot taller than she. The guy in flannel was joined by a beautiful, pale redhead, carrying an armload of toiletries. What amazing hair, Abby thought, looking at the long red tresses. I'd give anything for hair like that.