Charlotte should have been doing a great many things. She should have been in Trax, integrating herself with the scrappy Kindred community, trying to make sure she'd have at least a few allies should things turn south. She should have been touring southern Sacramento, learning the lay of the land and picking out new feeding spots to add to her rota. Hell, she should have been randomising her rota to plan next week's meals. She should, all in all, have been doing something productive with her time.

What she was doing was sprawling across the sofa of the basment she'd set her Haven up in, watching re-runs of Star Wars on TV and sucking on a milkshake she'd only vomit back up in an hour or two.

It was by no means a cerebral activity. Given the use of Vitae that was allowing her to temporarily stomach food, it was in fact a rather wasteful activity, carried out purely for her own pleasure.

But Charlotte didn't feel like dealing with Trask or the other colourful characters that hung around Trax. And she hated reminding herself that she lived in the disgusting little pit that was southern Sacramento. And she couldn't be bothered fiddling around with busywork, no matter how important. And it was raining, and Dad worried if she spent too much time outside, and...

And a million other excuses that all boiled down to two things; she was lazy and antisocial. Books were easier to deal with than people, and by staying in her Haven she could, at least for a time, shut out the tiresome mundanities of life and concentrate on things that interested or amused her.

Ah, screw it. Everyone needs a little opulence now and then. Charlotte thought, taking another sip of her drink as if to make a point. I'll do something a bit more useful tommorow. I'm immortal. I've got a lot of tommorows to do useful things in.