Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night.

He curled up, twitching and spasming, the pain stormtrooping through his entire body in agonizing, dizzying, pounding waves. He vomited, but it wasn’t the contents of his stomach. It was his stomach, hanging inside-out from a slimy loop of esophagus, spilling out the precious blood he’d been digesting.
Even with everything going on, the smell of blood activated his biting reflex, and he chomped down on his own regurgitated organs, screaming as he chewed.

What do we do while we wait for my parents to find Jersey?” She let him go, took a step back.

“We live a normal life.”

The words left his lips without emotion or meaning, because at this point he knew there was no such thing as a normal life for him.

Deep in his heart, he was still a vampire.

You aren’t a vampire.” Silver's voice mirrored his shock. She repeated the phrase with a huge smile on her face. “You aren’t a vampire!”

“They don’t call me Jackpot for nothing,” he joked.

How often do you have to drink?”
“Every night, to feel good. Every few nights, to stay sane.”
“Have you ever bitten anyone?”
“No. I’m not a murderer.”
“Does it have to be fatal every time? The biting? Couldn’t you just drink some of a person’s blood, then walk away?”
“I can’t believe you’re asking me this, Snow. You, who can’t walk away from half a sandwich.

Believe in angels? Then believe in vampires. Believe in me. There are worse things on earth.