one for me.
“So what was your childhood like?” The moment I asked I could have kicked myself. He was a vampire. His childhood was probably in the eleventh century.
The smile faded. “I don’t really remember my childhood. I’m fairly sure it didn’t include art history or equestrian activities, though.”
Where was that wine? I grabbed the bottle and filled my glass, taking another gulp.
He toyed with his glass, long fingers caressing the edge. “I can tell you what it’s like to be a vampire. Since you’ve been so forthcoming about your life.”
I set down the wine. “I’d like that.”
“Okay.” Dario set his wine aside and leaned forward, both arms on the table. “I was turned in Haiti and brought to what is now Florida. I remained there with my Master and Balaj until a rival clan forced us out. We made our way north until we found a territory we felt we could take.”
“Baltimore?”
He nodded. “We’ve been here ever since, about two hundred years, give or take a few decades.”
“But you mentioned a Master. Leonora didn’t turn you?”
“Thirty years ago my Master and Maker was killed. Leonora took over the Balaj as Mistress at that point.”
Holy cow. “Who killed him?”
I wasn’t aware of any Templar sanctioned purges in this century, and vampires didn’t like to leave their territory. I felt somewhat guilty about my prying but I was dying of curiosity. Yeah, I know, I had no problem asking a vampire about his resistance to garlic and his legendary ability to turn into a bat and fly, but I was uncomfortable that I’d asked him who killed his Master.
He shifted in his seat, rolling the stem of the wineglass with his long fingers. “That is not something I will share with you. I’ve told you enough already about us. It’s time to change the subject.”
Really? I think not after his seduction routine earlier. If he could dig for info on me, then I could do the same. “Leonora is your sister?”
He scowled. “Blood sister. She was turned long before I was. Have you made any progress on identifying the symbol? I saw that you were researching tonight.”
I ignored the question and concentrated on the information. Haiti. Dario had probably been a slave before he was turned, but Leonora was white. Had their Master been a plantation owner, or a vampire immigrant from one of the European families, coming to a new world in search of territory and the opportunity to begin a family of his own? It wouldn’t have been an easy journey, crossing the Atlantic with a severe sensitivity toward sunlight. Modern nonstop airline travel made things so much easier for vampires than a lengthy journey via boat.
Did vampires swim? Or sink? And if they didn’t need to breathe, what happened if they sank?
But another question took priority. “You’ve told me your timeline. You still haven’t told me what it’s like to be a vampire.”
The waiter arrived with our salads, and by the time he’d offered us cracked pepper and freshly shaved parmesan, I figured the moment had passed and we’d be off to another topic of conversation. I ate a few bites of the salad, reveling in the taste of fresh vegetables. I was probably on the verge of malnutrition from my cheap-food diet the last few months. This was heaven.
“Hunger.”
I halted the fork halfway to my mouth, thinking for a second about my own hunger before I realized Dario was referring to a very specific vampire hunger.
“It never ends. Never.” His voice was dark and husky as his eyes met mine. “You learn to push it to the back of your mind, to control your response so you don’t turn into a feral killing machine, but it’s always there. Every waking moment. Sometimes when sunrise comes, you welcome the oblivion of sleep because it’s the only time you don’t feel the hunger.”
The fork still hovered midway between the table and my mouth. That…that didn’t sound fun. I wasn’t sure what to say. What do you say to that sort
“So what was your childhood like?” The moment I asked I could have kicked myself. He was a vampire. His childhood was probably in the eleventh century.
The smile faded. “I don’t really remember my childhood. I’m fairly sure it didn’t include art history or equestrian activities, though.”
Where was that wine? I grabbed the bottle and filled my glass, taking another gulp.
He toyed with his glass, long fingers caressing the edge. “I can tell you what it’s like to be a vampire. Since you’ve been so forthcoming about your life.”
I set down the wine. “I’d like that.”
“Okay.” Dario set his wine aside and leaned forward, both arms on the table. “I was turned in Haiti and brought to what is now Florida. I remained there with my Master and Balaj until a rival clan forced us out. We made our way north until we found a territory we felt we could take.”
“Baltimore?”
He nodded. “We’ve been here ever since, about two hundred years, give or take a few decades.”
“But you mentioned a Master. Leonora didn’t turn you?”
“Thirty years ago my Master and Maker was killed. Leonora took over the Balaj as Mistress at that point.”
Holy cow. “Who killed him?”
I wasn’t aware of any Templar sanctioned purges in this century, and vampires didn’t like to leave their territory. I felt somewhat guilty about my prying but I was dying of curiosity. Yeah, I know, I had no problem asking a vampire about his resistance to garlic and his legendary ability to turn into a bat and fly, but I was uncomfortable that I’d asked him who killed his Master.
He shifted in his seat, rolling the stem of the wineglass with his long fingers. “That is not something I will share with you. I’ve told you enough already about us. It’s time to change the subject.”
Really? I think not after his seduction routine earlier. If he could dig for info on me, then I could do the same. “Leonora is your sister?”
He scowled. “Blood sister. She was turned long before I was. Have you made any progress on identifying the symbol? I saw that you were researching tonight.”
I ignored the question and concentrated on the information. Haiti. Dario had probably been a slave before he was turned, but Leonora was white. Had their Master been a plantation owner, or a vampire immigrant from one of the European families, coming to a new world in search of territory and the opportunity to begin a family of his own? It wouldn’t have been an easy journey, crossing the Atlantic with a severe sensitivity toward sunlight. Modern nonstop airline travel made things so much easier for vampires than a lengthy journey via boat.
Did vampires swim? Or sink? And if they didn’t need to breathe, what happened if they sank?
But another question took priority. “You’ve told me your timeline. You still haven’t told me what it’s like to be a vampire.”
The waiter arrived with our salads, and by the time he’d offered us cracked pepper and freshly shaved parmesan, I figured the moment had passed and we’d be off to another topic of conversation. I ate a few bites of the salad, reveling in the taste of fresh vegetables. I was probably on the verge of malnutrition from my cheap-food diet the last few months. This was heaven.
“Hunger.”
I halted the fork halfway to my mouth, thinking for a second about my own hunger before I realized Dario was referring to a very specific vampire hunger.
“It never ends. Never.” His voice was dark and husky as his eyes met mine. “You learn to push it to the back of your mind, to control your response so you don’t turn into a feral killing machine, but it’s always there. Every waking moment. Sometimes when sunrise comes, you welcome the oblivion of sleep because it’s the only time you don’t feel the hunger.”
The fork still hovered midway between the table and my mouth. That…that didn’t sound fun. I wasn’t sure what to say. What do you say to that sort
Similar Books
