by Aya DeAniege
“That was one of his guards, so I didn’t speak to him directly,” Quin said. “Apparently, the old man will grant me an audience, but only if you come with me. He wants to meet an interviewer.”
“What if he decides to eat me?” I asked.
“He’s not that bold. He wouldn’t feed on women four centuries ago, your penchant for taking a drug based contraceptive, wearing makeup and perfume, and un-holistic diet would make things worse.”
I almost said something but managed to stop myself before more than a sound escaped my lips.
But I did clearly remember that it was Death who didn’t eat women. Quin hadn’t said anything about Lu’s eating habits, though he was an immortal brother of Death’s. The two may have shared feeding habits.
“He’d assume you do, was my point,” Quin said. “You’ll be perfectly safe.”
“And the bait portion of the evening?”
“If he tries to bite you, the guards will interfere, and he goes into a box for his remaining days. Lu’s crafty, but he’s not better than the guards. They used to be Devils, all of them, and have been told that if they can take Lu down, they’ll be granted hunting rights in a third world nation.”
“Is that a lot of incentive?” I asked.
“If they start another genocide, a lone Devil could hunt undetected. What they did wouldn’t be half as bad as what humans do to one another.”
“I’m not exactly feeling safer. If he tries to bite me, other people will die. Slow and painful deaths, that’s what you’re saying to me.”
“But Lu will be in a box. Thousands, if not millions, would be spared. For the lives of a few hundred.
“The Council believes in balance. If we had to turn someone to save the world, we’d get away with it. If killing Hitler would have ended the war, we would have done it. Humans had to do it for it to work, however.”
“Everyone uses Hitler as an example,” I muttered.
“He’s a good example.”
“Next, you’ll say Lu is your Hitler.”
“Lu is our Vlad the Impaler.”
“And that would make Death...?”
“The devil, Lucifer incarnate. And not the romanticized version of him either. The Middle Ages, rape your soul, hellish torment for all eternity, Lucifer.”
“Guess that’d make Wraith Charon,” I said.
“I’m not bringing you to your doom. Death won’t be there. Just Lu.”
“Are the two ever really separate? Death could be one of the guards, protecting little brother.”
“They’re all under two thousand years old. I check on the detail every occasionally, for his supporters. I might not know where he is, but I know how he is. It’s easier to keep these sorts of incidents from happening if I know who is on the guard detail.”
I considered for a moment, then shrugged.
“Why not?” I said. “Worse that could happen is that this ends in me dead.”
“You’re a very morbid person,” Quin said.
“I’m told I have a dark sense of humour,” I said.
“We need to get you into your clothing. If you wear anything I’ve given you, he’ll know. Then he’ll make an assumption, and it’ll get awkward quickly.”
“It’s a little rumpled,” I said.
“I hand washed it and threw it in the dryer, along with your pants. They’re probably done by now.”
“When did you do that?”
“When you were in the shower,” he said, sounding puzzled. “Oh, mortals have that privacy rule.”
“You were in the bathroom when I was naked?” I shrieked. “The shower door is glass!”
“And you like hot showers, even if I were impolite enough to gawk, I wouldn’t have seen much besides the form that I can see when you are fully clothed.”
“That is not okay. Don’t do it again without my permission.”
It was only after I spoke that I wondered if I could even say that.
While Quin had been a perfect gentleman up until that point, he might have a different opinion about what happened in the privacy of his home. He might believe that he had a right to do whatever he pleased however he pleased.
“That’s fair enough, as it is the style of the age. Come, I will show you to the laundry room and you can change while I find something to wear.”
Grumbling under my breath, I set the wine glass on the table. Quin quirked up an eyebrow as I removed Fluffy and the blanket from my lap as one unit.
“If I die, you have to look after them,” I demanded.
“I will. They will be fat, spoiled cats.”
“Don’t overfeed them.”
“Fat cats are adorable. If you have a problem with them being fat, you’ll just have to make certain that you don’t die.”
“Isn’t that your job?” I demanded as he left the living room.
I followed, protesting the whole way.
“Here are your clothes. I will be in the bedroom. Come join me when you are done.”
“Won’t you be naked at some point?” I asked.
He seemed to consider, then shrugged.
“We can no longer kiss, that doesn’t mean that we cannot be intimate in other ways, ways which do not involve touching one another’s genitals or erogenous areas.”
And then he walked away. I gaped after him, rooted in place as the door to the laundry room closed behind him.
As an interviewer, I was to go along with whatever Quin wanted to do so long as it didn’t make me uncomfortable. Feeding, visiting daddy, even drinking wine in his living room.
The rules said nothing about having to submit to his every whim.
I had thought when he announced no more kissing, that meant we were finished on that topic for the night, or even that he might sneak one in, claiming he needed just one more.
He didn’t appear to be taking any risks.
See if there is any research on vampire venom and turning being released.
Knowledge of vampires would be a long time coming. The Council agreed to submit several blood panels, but the work had to be done alongside vampire researchers. Venom was not offered up, probably because the blood was so far being reported back as completely normal.
One cannot test the blood to tell a vampire from a mortal.
I gave myself a shake and turned to my clothing. Pulling the items on, I wondered yet again what time it was. Damn my memory, how many times had I meant to look at the phone?
Why didn’t the stupid tablet have a clock on it?
Make a suggestion for tablets to be updated with clocks.
Quin’s tales took only about half an hour each, counting that as well as the in between time and the shower...
I had probably been working eight hours.
As if on cue, my stomach growled.
Leaving the laundry room, I found my way to Quin’s bedroom.
“Won’t the sun be up soon?” I asked.
“It’s two in the morning, Helen,” Quin said as he scowled at his bed.
Laying on it were several outfits for him to choose from.
“Are you sure about that?” I asked.
“Very, you don’t need a clock when you’re as old as I am.”
“I thought it’d be like five,” I muttered.
“Last trip, then you’re going to sleep even if I need to give you something to put you to sleep,” he said. “We started at seven yesterday. I’m having my driver bring you a burger and fries from a popular fast food restaurant. Lu hates the smell of the stuff according to his guard. That’ll make him keep his distance. And feed you at the same time.”
“I am hungry,” I said.
I fiddled with the tablet as Quin considered the options he had laid out.
While playing around, I figured out how to tell how long the device had been recording. I almost deleted the entire night, cancelling the order at the last second.
“They did teach you how to use that thing, didn’t they?” Quin asked.
“I’
m trying to get the clock to show up,” I muttered
“They probably didn’t put one in, so that you wouldn’t focus on the passage of time. It might seem rude to the person you’re interviewing if you’re constantly checking your watch.”
“Just wear the grey one,” I said. “And don’t take your anxiety out on me. It’s only been four hundred years. That’s like the same percentage of time between when I saw my father last and now.”
“And how would you feel, seeing him now?” Quin asked.
“I wouldn’t. If I had your history with Lu, I’d be tempted to punch him right in the face.”
“I am tempted,” Quin said. “However, he has something I need, and I won’t get it if I hit him first, then ask questions. So, I’ll ask my questions first.”
“Use your energy focusing on not falling under his thrall,” I said.
“I’m not going to lose myself in him again.”
“When was your last—shoot, what would that even be called?”
“My last what?” Quin asked.
“The last time you repeated how you were turned,” I said. “Or had an experience like he would give you? Four hundred years without a man is a long time.”
“I prefer women. If necessary, I could throw you onto the bed and show you how much I prefer women.”
“Dude, I’m not calling you gay. I’m just saying that you’re gay for Lu and he seems to have a strong hold over you, even to this day. So, keep your panties on and your mouth shut.”
“Why am I keeping my mouth shut?” He asked.
“So, he’s not tempted to put something in it because you look lonesome.”
Quin frowned and straightened.
“I think you’re tired.”
“I think I’m at the end of an eight-hour day filled with trauma and anxiety, and that might make me snarky.”
“I like it,” he said boldly.
“No one likes snarky women. We’re supposed to be pretty dolls sitting on pedestals. Even the female vampires are only worth something because they are all beautiful.”
“Not all female vampires are beautiful physically,” Quin said. “It is an attribute that we look at when choosing Progeny, however. While beauty is, and always will be, in the eye of the beholder, physically attractive women can get by in the eternal world easier than the, let’s say, plainer ones.
“Though, I find the plainer ones aren’t so stuck up. I like how they blush when I compliment them and try to get them into bed.”
“Why are there so many more males than females?”
“You need to ask?” Quin asked.
“Of course, it’s something people have noticed, but apparently no one has stopped to ask you. The women are outnumbered three to one, those that are around tend to cluster. I’m guessing into the families you mentioned. So, why?”
“The obvious. A Maker chooses a Progeny based on how successful they will be throughout the centuries. Women may have come and gone in some places, but none of us would deny that it was much easier to exist as a man. I don’t envy many women living in the world. And I don’t agree that your worth is summed up in how you dress or how clean your hair is.
“Even if you were mean enough to judge me based on a fedora.”
“You mean to try and tell me that you didn’t judge me based on how I was dressed?”
“No, based on how you smell.”
“And how do I smell?”
“Delicious.”
We stared at each other for a long moment. I looked away first, embarrassed by his answer. It was a reminder that I was still food. A walking, talking blood bag in case anything went wrong.
Because if something went horribly wrong, from what I was hearing, he wouldn’t be in the right mind to stop himself.
“I’ll wear the grey,” he said.
And immediately stripped off his shirt. I glance at him and let out a startled sound.
Quin was not tanned all over, but his skin colour was just dark enough to make it appear that he hadn’t been hiding from the sun for a millennium and a half. He was well-muscled, like one might expect of a movie star.
He had mentioned keeping fit to keep ahead of mortals. The man wasn’t lying, he was trim as could be.
Trim? I don’t think that means what I think it means. Find a word that means hot without sounding derogatory.
If anything, his shirt had obstructed how he looked. While wearing a shirt, he looked slimmer. Without it, he looked more like a predator and less like prey.
There was scarring all over. Just, all over. Across his torso, on his arms. Just above his left nipple was what looked like a brand mark.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Quin looked down. “My chest?”
“Above your left nipple.”
“Wow, you said nipple,” he said with a chuckle. “Not such a prude after all. That is a brand. Lu did it when I turned eighteen and threatened to leave. Not so much threatened as tried to, and brought back to him by loyalists. Most of these are from six months ago.”
“What?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. We heal right up, but scar for a year or so afterward. I’ve bashed my own face in to get out of a city when there were wanted posters up for me. Ugliest I’ve ever been, according to Sasha, but it worked.”
“So, twenty or so years with Lu didn’t leave you scarred?”
“Not overly. He’d beat me mercilessly, lock me in boxes and try to suffocate me with smoke, but nothing that left marks on me. A scarred man is pitied, and I think it was always his intention to turn me.”
“What about tattoos?”
“They might last a year if you’re lucky. Same with lodged items, they work their way out eventually. If you look, Lucrecia wears clip-on earrings when she wears anything. It becomes dreadful to keep re-piercing. Do you have piercings?”
“Just my ears. I have a little butterfly tattoo.”
“I don’t think I’ve met a vampire with ink before,” Quin said. “Most of us have worn it at some point before, even if it was to blend in with a particular group of people.
“Can I put my shirt on, now?”
“What? I’m sorry, of course.”
“Maybe wipe the drool from your lips,” he muttered, pulling on the new, yet similar grey dress shirt.
I wiped at my bottom lip idly. As I did so, Quin smiled. His fingers hesitated on the buttons of his shirt.
“Come here,” he purred out.
I swallowed and walked around the bed. When I stopped several feet away from him, he beckoned me closer.
Of course, I hesitated, then I stepped up to him.
He wrapped those strong arms around me. His hands settled on my back and my hip. Firm, but not crossing a line. He brought me close to him. Our bodies touched, and I let out a breath.
“I find myself tempted by your lips,” he murmured. “By your smile and your eyes.”
“I’m a little surprised by that,” I said.
“Why? Has a man never called you beautiful?”
“They’ve implied it,” I said. “What I’m surprised about is a vampire moving so quickly.”
“Mortals are here such a short time, compared to us. I prefer to take advantage of every moment I can. Why waste months with half-promises? If I could have you tonight, I would.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”
“I like to kiss. Mouths should be involved in sex. Mine cannot be involved at the moment.”
“Sticking with that, are you?”
“If you really want to know whether we are all frauds, you need only ask one thing,” Quin whispered.
“What kind of pathetic human demands someone else slice into their flesh?” I asked. “No, and I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“You didn’t bring it up. You pouted because I said I wouldn’t be kissing you.”
“I did not pout!”
“You did. It was adorable. I shall tell all the vampires about your adorably squished face when I said we couldn’t
kiss until tomorrow. Then they’ll want to see it.”
“I didn’t pout! My face doesn’t squish when I scowl!”
“There it is now.”
I turned away from him and folded my arms in annoyance, not appreciating the teasing in the least. Quin followed me, pressing tight against my back. His arms wrapped around me once more.
There, in his arms, I almost forgot about who was waiting for us.
“What happened the last time you saw him?”
“Do you really want to know?” He murmured against my neck.
“Don’t bite me.”
He groaned. There was something needy in that sound.
“If you insist, I will tell you about the last time I saw him. I will try to get to it all before we reach his home. But you should still try to eat.”
“I’m not put off my appetite that quickly.”
“And I’m not giving exact dates or places.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I muttered.
“Might as well keep mortals guessing about some details,” Quin said dryly.
The timeline, I’m sure, is in your history books.
I had received my summons two years before the sickness began spreading. I did as I was compelled to do, as always.
We met at a little inn on the outskirts of a small village. I’m not even certain the village had a name.
Not that it matters now. Lu had me slaughter everyone, refusing my desire to feed. He fed deeply.
By that point, such behaviour was typical of him.
Once the last mortal was cold, he, well, you know.
I think I spent three days tied up that time, not too bad, though I did lose an arm for a while. He put it back, then offered me his wrist.
Maker’s Blood can heal the scars left by devastating damage, but only if it’s fresh. Few vampires have ever tasted the difference between bottled and fresh. The blood only works for the Progeny, of course.
I knew when he offered his wrist that Death was about and that there was work to be done.
While we worked, I was to keep silent. I cannot share what I witnessed of Death and Wraith.
Our job was to follow behind, keeping an eye on the villages as they succumbed. Death was always playing with some new strain, I suppose you could say.
Whatever Death does, it effects Lu. He always gets ill during and then directly after. He would always find himself a staff of some sort, but preferred scythes.