The Last Keeper by Michelle Birbeck Page A

that fictional portrayal. Although they are somewhat more complex. The myth about them burning in the sunlight is only partly true. It depends on how powerful they are. The more powerful, the more potent their weakness is. Generally, they’re as strong as I am and nearly as fast.” The excitement of sharing this with him was almost enough to leave me breathless. “They aren’t entirely never-changing. Their hair and nails grow, though at an exceptionally slower rate. They have the strength, the numbers, and the organisation to take over the human race without a second thought—”
    “And you’re the reason they haven’t?”  
    “Yes.” I paused for a moment, staring intently at him. “You’re taking this very well, Ray.”
    “I guess it isn’t much of a surprise, really. I always thought there was something else beyond what I was seeing—especially when it came to you.” He shrugged. “Even before I met you, when I heard you would be attending the auction, I knew I had to be there. There were so many rumours about you, about what you did and the causes you gave to so willingly. Something in those stories intrigued me and made me want to meet you all the more. Then, when I did, you were like no one I’d met before. So it stands to reason that there’s more to you than meets the eye.”
    “Still, I tell you I’m three thousand years old, and that vampires, witches and Weres are real, and . . . This, ” I gestured to him, all the while shaking my head, “is not a normal reaction.”
    “Would you prefer me to run screaming? Or fetch the men from the asylum?” There was a light, teasing edge to his voice.  
    “No, but you may do that yet.” I sighed, not quite able to believe how well things were going.
    “There’s more to your story?”
    “Much more. Life with me is never easy. It is full of danger, more so now than ever before. Every few years I’m forced to move. There are occasions when I’ll be gone for days or weeks at a time, and I cannot always tell you where I’ll be.” This was the breaking point. Would he be able to accept me, faults and all, and without explanation when needed?
    “Serenity, the feelings I hold for you are growing. Each day I spend with you finds me wanting more time. I understand things aren’t as they seem, and I’m willing to accept that. More than willing. As much as I’d like to aid you in what you do, I know I can’t. However, I’d like to be with you,” he told me, taking my hand.
    “There’s still a lot for you to learn, but if you’re willing, and you’ll still have me, then I am yours. Completely.”  
    “I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”

We spent most of the day sitting among the trees. I told him so much, but they were only a few of the things I’d seen in my life, what I remembered at least. Names and specifics faded over the years, but I still remembered the magnificence of the places I’d visited. However, my friends and family were always engraved into my mind, a constant reminder of what we protected. I fought to hold onto those memories, refusing to let them go.  
        Our conversation skirted around the aspects of how to avoid and identify the vampires.  
    “May I ask you a question?”  
    I laughed. He insisted on starting each question like that, asking if he was allowed to ask. “Of course you may.”
    “How are only some vampires able to walk in the sun?”  
    “It all depends on the lives they take,” I explained. “Draining the life from someone gives them power. The more lives they drain, the more powerful they are. And the stronger they are, the more potent their weakness is. For those who insist on taking the life of their meal every time, it means they’ll never see the sun. Even a cloudy day is too much for those vampires to risk. Although, if they stop taking lives then their power will wane.”
    “That makes sense. As the saying goes: the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Or similar at