Tish eyed Sherry’s wrist. It made her uncomfortable the way she wanted to chomp down and nurse off of it. She had never been one of those girls who thought that vampire stories were sexy. As a human she was uncomfortable at the sight of blood and the taste of it was too metallic and repulsive. It bothered her the way she had done a complete 180 turn because of the power swap. Somewhere in Kansas there was a vampire, walking freely in the sunlight with un-sparkly skin dining on things like pizza or cinnamon toast. It seemed like an unfair trade, to Tish.
“Packets.” She affirmed, though her stomach was crying out for the warm, fresh stuff. “I’ll try the packets.”