Fangboy

“Hey, fangboy!” Buffy snapped.

Skye had paled, frightened, as well she might be—she was being ordered to fight vampires without benefit of the elixir. Holgar had appeared to take the news in stride, declaring that with or without the elixir, he was glad for the chance to “rip some fangboys apart.”

Beside her, a dark-eyed fangboy in leather pants and no shirt winked at me, his tangled dreadlocks a shock of dusty blue.