by Lynsay Sands
“We have a council who make and enforce the laws,” she answered quietly.
“A council?” He thought about it. “Are your mother and brothers on it?”
“No. They’re too young.”
His eyes widened incredulously. “Seven hundred is too young?”
Lissianna grinned. “Mother is relatively young for our people.”
“I suppose,” Greg allowed, and she knew he was probably recalling that her father had been much, much older.
“Uncle Lucian is head of the council.”
“Your uncle?” He considered that briefly, then asked, “So what do they do if someone breaks the law and sires more than one person?”
Lissianna shifted uncomfortably, finding the subject an unpleasant one. “I have only heard of one instance where someone turned a second person,” she admitted.
“And what did your uncle and his council do?” he asked.
“The individual who did the siring was…terminated.”
“Geez. Terminated?” Greg sat back at this news, then asked. “How?”
“He was staked out in the open for a day to allow the sun to ravage him, then set on fire when the sun set.”
“Dear God,” he breathed. “Your uncle is brutal.”
“This was centuries ago, everyone was brutal then,” she said quickly, then added, “It was meant as a deterrent for others, to prevent anyone else breaking the law.”
“Pretty persuasive,” he muttered. “What happened to the person that was sired?”
Lissianna shrugged. “Nothing that I know of; she was allowed to live. I guess her life replaced her sire’s.”
“Hmm.” Greg glanced toward Juli and Vicki, and said, “I gather twins are allowed, despite the one every hundred years rule, but what do they do if one of your women tries to have children closer together than a hundred years?”
“A little leeway is allowed there. Some have had children ninety-five years apart, but then the mother must wait the extra five years the next time to have another.”
“But what if they try to have them fifty years apart, or have one right after another?”
“That is not allowed. The pregnancy has to be terminated.”
“You can abort your babies?” Greg asked with surprise, and when she nodded, asked, “What about before abortions came into existence?”
Lissianna sighed. This was the sort of thing she preferred not to think about let alone discuss, but made herself answer. “Before proper abortions, the baby was either cut from the mother’s stomach, or it was terminated after birth.”
“I suppose they staked it out in the sun for a day and then set it on fire?” Greg suggested, sounding sharp.
“No, of course not,” she said unhappily, knowing he was getting a bad impression of her people. “The council would have no reason to torture an innocent child.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So how are they terminated then?”
Lissianna shrugged helplessly. “I’m not sure. I know no one who has tried to have children closer together than the allowed time. It would be foolish. A pregnancy isn’t something easily hidden.”
Greg let his breath out on a sigh, some of the tension leaving him. “What other laws have your council come up with?”
Lissianna pursed her lips. “We aren’t allowed to murder or rob each other.”
“Each other?” he asked, tone sharp again. “What about mortals?”
“Not without a good reason,” she assured him.
“A good reason?” Greg gaped at her. “What exactly constitutes a good reason?”
Lissianna sighed at his reaction, knowing she should have expected it. “Well, to protect ourselves or others of our kind.”
Greg grunted and gave a nod, presumably saying that he could understand that, and Lissianna relaxed a little, but then he asked, “What else?”
She bit her lip, then admitted, “To feed in the case of an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency would allow one of you to murder or rob a mortal?”
“It has happened in the past that on their travels, one of our kind—through an accident or a simple mistake—has found himself injured and without a blood supply. In that case, he may rob a local blood bank—or should he be deep in the jungle or somewhere else where his only recourse is the source—he may take what he needs,” she said delicately.
Greg wasn’t fooled by her phrasing. “You mean, if they’re flying somewhere and the plane crashes and they’re injured out in the middle of nowhere with only one or two cosurvivors, they can drain them dry, right?”
“Yes, that sort of thing,” Lissianna admitted on a sigh. “But only if absolutely necessary.”
Greg nodded. “Otherwise, they’re only allowed to feed from the ‘source’ for health reasons like your phobia?”
“Yes.”
“Are there any other health reasons that would allow it?”
Lissianna nodded. “Actually, there are a few. I have a cousin and an uncle who cannot survive on bagged blood. Their bodies need a specific enzyme that dies the moment the blood leaves the body. They can consume bag after bag of the bagged blood and still starve to death.”
Greg whistled through his teeth. “I wouldn’t think the nanos would allow such a condition to continue.”
“The nanos repair damage and attack illness, they don’t correct a genetic or natural state. And whatever enzyme it is that my uncle and cousin need that the rest of us don’t is a genetic anomaly and natural to them.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Well, that was a waste of film,” Thomas said with disgust.
Lissianna blinked as the lights were switched on. The movie had ended, and, judging by her cousin’s comment, she hadn’t missed much while talking to Greg.
“Yeah, it was pretty bad,” Juli agreed. “And I’m glad it’s over, I’m starved.”
“How can you be starved? You just ate a huge bowl of popcorn,” Elspeth said, with amazement.
“Popcorn isn’t food, it’s popcorn,” Vicki told her with a laugh, then turned to Greg. “What do you feel like for supper? We could boil some hot dogs, or heat up one of the pizzas.”
Greg suggested, “Why don’t you guys grab a snack to tide you over for a bit, and I’ll make chili.”
“Chili, huh?” Juli considered the matter, then asked, “Over fries?”
“And with cheese,” Vicki added, looking excited.
“Whatever floats your boat,” Greg laughed, getting to his feet and reaching back to offer Lissianna a hand up.
“If I asked you to take me home, would you?”
Lissianna glanced up from the magazine she’d been leafing through and stared at Greg. He was stirring his chili and not looking her way, which was probably good, because if her expression reflected her feelings, it would be a mass of confusion. Her mind was awhirl with the thoughts Greg’s question provoked. She’d set him free the first time out of guilt. She still felt that guilt. More so now that Uncle Lucian was being brought into the situation, making Greg’s position precarious. Were he to argue his case convincingly enough, Lissianna very much feared that—despite her mother’s anger and the threat he might represent to them—she could again be convinced to return him to his apartment.
“It would get me in a lot of trouble,” was all she said, but the grin that immediately curved his lips suggested Greg knew she could be convinced to set him free.
“Well, don’t worry, I won’t ask,” he said reassuringly.
His comment startled a “Why?” out of Lissianna.
Greg considered the question as he peered into the oven to check the fries. He was proving to be something of a domestic wizard. The man even knew what a whisk was for, which was fortunate, Lissianna supposed, because she was lost in the kitchen. He’d have starved if he’d had to wait for her to cook for him.
Luckily for Greg and the twins, while the Argeneau kitchen was usually bare of food, it was outfitted with all the dishes, cookware, and appliances of the
usual kitchen. They did occasionally have parties that were catered, and Marguerite liked to be prepared for any eventuality.
“It’s hard to explain,” Greg said finally. “Finding out about your people is rather like running across friendly aliens. Who wouldn’t want to find out more about you?”
Lissianna nodded slowly. She understood his reasoning and supposed she should have expected his curiosity. She didn’t have the heart to tell him anything he learned would be short-lived knowledge, and her mother was hoping Uncle Lucian could wipe all memory of them from his mind.
“Why do the twins eat while the rest of you don’t?”
The question was such a hop in subject, it took a moment for Lissianna’s mind to make the switch, then she said, “The twins are young yet. When we’re children it’s necessary to eat to mature properly, but once you’re mature it isn’t.”
“So you can eat, you just…what? Stop?” Greg asked.
“Basically,” she said with a nod. “After a while, food gets to be boring and having to both eat as well as feed gets to be something of a nuisance. So, yes, most of us just stop bothering with it.”
“Food? A boring nuisance?” Greg looked shocked. “Even chocolate?”
Lissianna chuckled. “Chocolate isn’t food, it’s manna. Chocolate never gets boring.”
“Well, thank God for that,” he muttered, giving his chili another stir. “Still, I find it difficult to imagine food as boring, there’s so much variety; French, Italian, Mexican, Indian…” He sighed happily at the thought of the differing foods, then glanced over to ask, “When was the last time you ate chili?”
“I don’t think I ever have,” she admitted. “Mexico isn’t somewhere I’ve ever wanted to go, and I actually stopped eating around my hundredth birthday. Mexican food hadn’t made it up here to Canada by then.”
“Why isn’t Mexico somewhere you’ve ever wanted to go?” Greg sounded almost affronted, and it wasn’t until then that Lissianna recalled he was supposed to be on vacation in Mexico right that moment.
“It’s sunny,” she said simply.
“Oh, right.” He sighed. “So you were a hundred when you stopped eating? What happened? You just woke up one day, and said, ‘That’s it, no more food’?”
Lissianna laughed at his incredulity. The man obviously enjoyed his food. He certainly seemed to be struggling with the idea that she didn’t. She tried to explain. “My mother and father had tired of food long before I was born—as had my brothers—so it was just Thomas and me and when he moved out, I ate alone. It started to seem a long, boring business,” she said with a shrug. “So I just slowly stopped. As I said earlier, once we reach adulthood there is no real reason to continue to eat food daily, we get most of the nutrients we need from blood anyway. Now, I just eat at celebrations like the rest of my family.”
Greg stopped stirring to look at her. “You eat at celebrations?”
“It’s the sociable thing to do.”
Greg chuckled. “So you’re like social drinkers, only you’re social eaters.”
Lissianna cast a smile his way, then turned back to her magazine.
“Well, if you’ve never had chili, it might not be boring to you,” Greg pointed out. “Why don’t you give it a try? I need someone to taste test it anyway.”
Glancing up, she saw that he’d scooped out a spoonful of chili and was carrying it carefully over to her, his free hand cupped under it in case of drips.
Lissianna had helped him make the chili, chopping the onions and mushrooms while he fried the meat. She’d also kept him company while he hovered over the pot, lovingly stirring and spicing it. The aromas that had been pouring from the pot for the last hour were delicious, but then the food her coworker Debbie brought in to work often smelled good, too, but didn’t raise any hunger in her.
“I don’t—” she began uncertainly.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “One bite.”
Lissianna gave in and reached for the spoon, but Greg tugged it out of range and shook his head. “Open up.”
She let her hand drop and dutifully opened her mouth, terribly aware of his eyes on her as he slid the spoon between her lips. She closed her mouth, taking the food in as he drew the spoon out again. Lissianna let it sit on her tongue for a moment, enjoying the explosion of flavors before chewing and swallowing.
“What do you think?” Greg asked.
Lissianna smiled, and admitted, “It’s good.”
“There, you see.” He was obviously pleased with himself and gave a shake of the head as he turned to move back to his pot. “Food…boring!” He gave a little laugh. “Not likely.”
Lissianna watched him with a smile. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d eaten everything at least a hundred times. It becomes a chore rather than a pleasure.”
“Never,” Greg protested with certainty, then asked, “Hey, do you people have to worry about your weight while you’re still eating food?”
“No. The nanos would destroy any extra fat. They keep you at your ultimate fitness level.”
“Damn.” Greg shook his head again. “Live forever, stay young, and never worry about your weight?” He marveled. “Damn.”
“Here you are.” Marguerite Argeneau breezed into the room on a wave of energy, startling them both. She looked rested from her sleep and had obviously just fed; she was flush with color and beaming brightly as she glanced from one to the other. “So, how is the first therapy session going? Are you cured yet?”
Lissianna and Greg exchanged a guilty glance.
Chapter 13
“We’re going to try systematic desensitization,” Greg announced.
“Oh?” Lissianna said politely, and he couldn’t help but notice that she looked more wary than impressed with this news. He wasn’t surprised; fear was a terrible thing and difficult to deal with, and that’s what they were about to do, deal with Lissianna’s fear and, hopefully, cure her phobia.
There were other things Greg would rather do with Lissianna than deal with her phobia, but Marguerite had been so upset to learn that they’d done absolutely no therapy while she’d slept that he’d found himself promising they would work on it directly after he and the twins ate the dinner he was making. So, here they were, in the library for what Lissianna had referred to as their first torture session.
“Will this systematic desensitization work?”
“It should. It’s very effective with phobias,” he assured her.
“Okay.” She blew out a breath, straightened her shoulders, and asked, “What do I have to do?”
“Well, I’ll need you to think of situations that cause the anxiety, and—”
“I don’t feel anxiety about blood,” Lissianna interrupted. “I just faint.”
“Yes, but—” Greg paused, then tilted his head, and asked, “Do you know why you react to blood like this? I wouldn’t think it was a common complaint among your kind. When did it first start?”
Lissianna peered down and Greg followed the move, noting that she was twisting her hands together in her lap. Blood might just make her faint, but she was definitely feeling some anxiety at the idea of talking about when it started. After a long silence, she glanced up, and reluctantly admitted, “It started after my first hunt.”
The tortured expression on her face was hard to handle. He’d seen it before on the faces of his patients, but this was different. Greg wanted to wrap his arms around Lissianna and say she need never think about it again, that he’d keep her safe. He didn’t, of course. Lissianna wanted the tools and know-how to be free of her phobia. She wasn’t Meredith. That was one of the things he liked best about her.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “Tell me about your first hunt.”
“I…Well, I was thirteen,” she said slowly and Greg managed not to flinch outwardly. Just thirteen. Christ! A child, but then he reminded himself that it was a necessary skill Lissianna would have needed, one that would have kept her alive if anything had happened to her parents, and she�
�d needed to fend for herself.
If he was having trouble hearing this, Greg knew it was worse for her. He decided to give Lissianna a chance to get used to the idea of discussing it and satisfy his curiosity at the same time.
“How did you feed before that?” he asked, and felt some of the tension leave him when she relaxed a little.
“Before blood banks, I used to have…well, the vampire equivalent of wet nurses I guess. Only I didn’t suckle at their breast, I bit their wrists or necks.”
When Greg grimaced, she added, “Now that there are blood banks, wet nurses aren’t needed.”
He nodded, glad to hear it, then asked, “You could control minds as a child?”
“Not until about eight or nine,” Lissianna admitted with a shrug. “Before that, a parent or guardian controlled the donors’ minds so they wouldn’t feel pain.”
“Okay.” Greg considered her expression. She looked more relaxed, but he knew it wouldn’t last long as he prompted, “I’m guessing you weren’t by yourself your first time?”
“No. A guardian always goes along the first couple of times. It’s necessary. There’s so much to keep track of,” she explained, and it was obvious she wasn’t quite ready to approach her own first time, so was generalizing. “No matter how many times you practice mind control on your wet nurses, it’s in the safety and privacy of your home. When you go out hunting, you have to control the person’s mind and keep track of your surroundings in case someone comes along. You also have to pay attention to how long you feed so you don’t take too much blood.” She paused, then added, “When you’re with wet nurses, you can take more blood and it’s all right if they’re a little weak or even faint, they can rest if they need to; but when you hunt, you have to take less.”
Lissianna met his gaze and seemed more relaxed as she admitted, “We used to feed on more than one donor or host a night, spreading it between two or three so that no one was left physically affected. It wouldn’t be good to leave donors staggering weakly down the street. They had to be able to walk away feeling just fine. So when our kind first go out, they have to learn how long it is safe to feed. That’s what the person accompanying them is there for, to be sure they don’t lose track of time.” She grimaced. “There’s so much to pay attention to. Trying to do all three things can be overwhelming at first.”