Vampire hidden by Esther Sanz
My vampires don’t sweat. They don’t glitter and they don’t sweat. They’re not humans in vampire disguise. They’re made, not born. They’re the undead, faster than the blink of an eye, can hear a blade of grass growing, smell the faintest difference in the air, and heal in an instant–unless constrained by silver. They drink blood, not wine, not whiskey, not water–blood. Human blood. Nothing else.
They feel neither pain nor cold. They burn in the sun. They are unbothered by religious symbols, spells, yadda-yadda. They can hear your heartbeat, your breathing, your pulse, the rush of blood in your veins, but can only enter a human home by invitation. Crossing a threshold uninvited makes them bleed from places they’d rather not bleed from. They have the power of glamour, and some of them have the rare talent of telepathy and some the even rarer talent of empathy. And they have fangs.