My Tasting Bed

Woke up in my bed with blood on my lips. It was salty and gamey, and I craved more. The man next to me had weird eyes. They were staring at the ceiling; I did not realize it was because he had died. I was not tempted to taste him; vampires need fresh. I hopped out of bed and looked out into the alley. There was a girl there smoking; I hate nicotine. Ugly habit; non-tasty. I liked fresh and untainted. A small child would be welcome, but they are in bed. Something small enters the alley; a cat. I shake my head, disappointed. Go back to sleep someone said. It was the inn keeper, she had entered the room. Your wailing is worrying the other tenants. I crooked my finger, luring her to my tasting bed.