already are.”
A ND that was it. We didn’t chat with the queen about the affairs of the European vampires. We didn’t find out how large the Obscurati is. We were clueless as to how many vampires existed in Europe.
That day, we became Obscurati. We became part of the vampire “special ops” representing the queen of Europe. We became the vampires that other vampires never want to see. We were part of a worldwide group of the scariest vamps anywhere. I didn’t feel scary, and I was convinced that if you tried to tell anybody that Hamlet was scary, they’d die from laughter. Friggin’ nelly vampires.
There’s no uniform or badge. There’s no ID card or secret handshake. Diddly-squat.
We didn’t even get our names on a cake or anything. Wait, vampires don’t eat cake. Never mind.
The truth is that there is nothing to stop some master vampire from popping up to claim he is Obscurati.
Wait, no real Obscurati would ever make such a claim. And if another vampire did and we found out about it, it would be the last claim the vampire ever made.
Hamlet, Oberon, and I became members of the vampire Delta Force in Europe. We became vampire Yamam, and, in theory, nobody could know. When called, we’d just make somebody dead and not even get a newspaper story or “attaboy.”
Chapter 6
O BERON was born in Dresden in the eastern part of Germany in 1915. He is fifteen years younger than I am. I turned him when he was the same age I was when I was turned. I was born fifteen years sooner, but we are really the same body-age: twenty. It’s a weird vampire thing that is hard to explain.
His birth name was actually Viktor. His hometown of Dresden was full of great museums and music. It was the cultural heart of the German state of Saxony. Viktor grew up surrounded by the very best of European culture.
He was smart—nerdy, maybe—in school. He told me that some of the other boys taunted him because he was so pretty. Viktor was beautiful, but never ruggedly handsome.
He had an older brother, a younger brother, and a younger sister. His older brother was a little embarrassed to be related to Viktor, but he was much older and was already on his own when Viktor was an infant. By the time Viktor was ten or eleven, the older brother stopped coming to the house when Viktor was there. His own brother rejected Viktor because he wasn’t rugged enough.
At school, it was Viktor who had to stand up for his little brother and sister. He was closer to their ages, so they all went to the same school. Even though he wasn’t rugged and manly, Viktor taught himself how to protect those he loved.
Over the years, he trained himself to be quiet. It was his idea of self-preservation, but it worked to make him more mysterious. The bullies could tease him over his looks but not because he was effeminate. They would have had to tease him because he was so quiet. He only spoke when spoken to and almost never looked anyone in the eyes. It was like Viktor was in a separate universe. He created a shell, and the little boy would hide inside.
Maybe he had to be like that.
His father beat his mother and all the kids. It was savage, and it happened consistently. Viktor says he had a broken arm or leg several times a year, and they were all caused by the beatings. The sister had bruises, and his little brother almost always had a cigar burn or two. The father must have been a real piece of work, and he thought he would keep getting away with it forever. Daddy made a big mistake: you never should underestimate Viktor/Oberon. He stays quiet, and he looks meek. He never got angry, but he knew how to protect his little brother and sister. The world had forced him to understand cruelty and protection.
What kind of man beats a thirteen-year-old kid and a ten-year-old girl? What kind of father puts cigar burns on a six-year-old boy’s arms? A really sick-ass man, that’s what.
One summer night when he was thirteen, his father caught
A ND that was it. We didn’t chat with the queen about the affairs of the European vampires. We didn’t find out how large the Obscurati is. We were clueless as to how many vampires existed in Europe.
That day, we became Obscurati. We became part of the vampire “special ops” representing the queen of Europe. We became the vampires that other vampires never want to see. We were part of a worldwide group of the scariest vamps anywhere. I didn’t feel scary, and I was convinced that if you tried to tell anybody that Hamlet was scary, they’d die from laughter. Friggin’ nelly vampires.
There’s no uniform or badge. There’s no ID card or secret handshake. Diddly-squat.
We didn’t even get our names on a cake or anything. Wait, vampires don’t eat cake. Never mind.
The truth is that there is nothing to stop some master vampire from popping up to claim he is Obscurati.
Wait, no real Obscurati would ever make such a claim. And if another vampire did and we found out about it, it would be the last claim the vampire ever made.
Hamlet, Oberon, and I became members of the vampire Delta Force in Europe. We became vampire Yamam, and, in theory, nobody could know. When called, we’d just make somebody dead and not even get a newspaper story or “attaboy.”
Chapter 6
O BERON was born in Dresden in the eastern part of Germany in 1915. He is fifteen years younger than I am. I turned him when he was the same age I was when I was turned. I was born fifteen years sooner, but we are really the same body-age: twenty. It’s a weird vampire thing that is hard to explain.
His birth name was actually Viktor. His hometown of Dresden was full of great museums and music. It was the cultural heart of the German state of Saxony. Viktor grew up surrounded by the very best of European culture.
He was smart—nerdy, maybe—in school. He told me that some of the other boys taunted him because he was so pretty. Viktor was beautiful, but never ruggedly handsome.
He had an older brother, a younger brother, and a younger sister. His older brother was a little embarrassed to be related to Viktor, but he was much older and was already on his own when Viktor was an infant. By the time Viktor was ten or eleven, the older brother stopped coming to the house when Viktor was there. His own brother rejected Viktor because he wasn’t rugged enough.
At school, it was Viktor who had to stand up for his little brother and sister. He was closer to their ages, so they all went to the same school. Even though he wasn’t rugged and manly, Viktor taught himself how to protect those he loved.
Over the years, he trained himself to be quiet. It was his idea of self-preservation, but it worked to make him more mysterious. The bullies could tease him over his looks but not because he was effeminate. They would have had to tease him because he was so quiet. He only spoke when spoken to and almost never looked anyone in the eyes. It was like Viktor was in a separate universe. He created a shell, and the little boy would hide inside.
Maybe he had to be like that.
His father beat his mother and all the kids. It was savage, and it happened consistently. Viktor says he had a broken arm or leg several times a year, and they were all caused by the beatings. The sister had bruises, and his little brother almost always had a cigar burn or two. The father must have been a real piece of work, and he thought he would keep getting away with it forever. Daddy made a big mistake: you never should underestimate Viktor/Oberon. He stays quiet, and he looks meek. He never got angry, but he knew how to protect his little brother and sister. The world had forced him to understand cruelty and protection.
What kind of man beats a thirteen-year-old kid and a ten-year-old girl? What kind of father puts cigar burns on a six-year-old boy’s arms? A really sick-ass man, that’s what.
One summer night when he was thirteen, his father caught
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