being a vampire really limits your career choices

"You know, for years, I wanted to become a priest."

I looked up from the apple I was slicing and raised an eyebrow—a habit I'd picked up from him in the weeks since we'd met.

"What made you change your mind?" I asked him, dropping my gaze again.

"The Church only accepts blood-drinking when it relates to the Mass."

I laughed in spite of myself.

"I'd have thought it was the immortality thing."

"Well, that, too." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smile. "It would have raised suspicion after a few decades."

I speared a slice of apple on the end of the knife and offered it to him. Rather than plucking off, he delicately bit it off the blade, flashing long, grey fangs in the process. He smiled again when I blushed and took the knife away.

"You'd have made a good priest, I think," I told him. "You're really, uh, warm."

"In a metaphorical way, I trust?"

"Well, yeah." I caught his free hand in one of mine, letting the chill seep into my fingers for a second before I continued. "But I feel safe around you."

"Is that wise?"

I shrugged.

"Maybe."