Chapter 40. Lorena
lorena
William seems so moved by the word friend that it actually makes me feel sorry for him.
So I sit on the floor and open the green book to a random page. Then I pat the spot next to me, intimating that he should join me. When he does, I ask, “Show me your fangs?”
He frowns, but I just nod for him to go on, and after a moment, he parts his lips. Then his daggerlike canines descend, growing into sharp weapons.
I raise a finger and touch the pointy edge so it punctures my skin. Blood dribbles out, and when I pull my hand away, William stares at my finger as if he would like to suck the wound.
My stomach flips as I brush my fingertip across the blank page, drawing a W. An instant later, the red ink rearranges itself into an X.
William stares at the paper. Then he looks at me, and this time he brings his own finger to his mouth. It seems he has to bite down extra hard to tear his skin, then he presses his finger onto the white page, drawing an L.
The blood gets absorbed, and nothing happens.
It didn’t work.
“Damn—”
But I fall silent as the white canvas begins to fill with neat lettering written in red ink. William and I lean forward, our heads touching, and he reads out loud:
“Vampires are masters of time.”
We trade awed stares, then we look down again, and he keeps going:
“The transformation freezes their blood, halting the decay of their mortal shell and granting them the semblance of eternal youth. They absorb energy by ingesting the warm blood of living humans. In the absence of such nourishment, they may persist for untold ages, lapsing into a deathless slumber.
“Yet not all vampires are equal. Amongst their number, one hallowed bloodline doth possess the power to confer their condition upon mankind. The Stokers.”
William pauses, and I venture to ask, “Did you meet any Stokers in your travels?”
He shakes his head, and I don’t know if I’m disappointed or relieved.
“Despite the great strength of these immortal beings,” William reads on, “mankind’s multitude far outweigheth them.
As the world has grown more civil, the hearts of mortals have waxed cold toward the immortals.
This disdain has found form in the Legion of Fire.
The assemblage was first conceived to shield humans from wayward vampires, yet the Legion has grown zealously unbridled in its cause, turning its ire upon all immortals, even those who have dwelt peaceably amongst men and posed no threat.
“Such provocations roused the indignation of the vampires, until whispers of war darkened the air. Yet before such a calamity could unfold, the Legion undertook an act most grievous and fateful, an offense that would alter the course of history.”
William goes silent, but there’s still one last sentence. When he doesn’t read it, I do it for him: “They set out to extinguish the mortal line of Stokers.”
I can hardly process the words.
In order to cut off the vampire population, we murdered our own kind. For no other reason than the blood in their veins.
I turn the page, but there’s nothing written there.
“We need more of your blood,” I say, but he just shakes his head. “It’s the only way we’re going to know—”
“I already know,” he says. “The vampire population was facing total annihilation. So Grandsire cast a spell.”
“A spell?” I echo.
“By harnessing the time-property of Stoker blood, he somehow displaced the species from the current timeline and deposited them in the future. The plan was for vampires to return when humans would have forgotten them, so the mortals would be unprotected and with their guard down. Only no one could be sure that the spell would work, since it had never been performed. So, as a fail-safe, a small subset of vampires was left behind in a state of death-sleep, well-hidden and scattered throughout the planet.”
“You,” I whisper. “And Nate and Cisco. How many others?”
“Fifty-four total. That is all that is left of our kind.”
It’s a small number in the scope of things. Still, fifty-four vampires isn’t nothing. “What about the ones displaced by the spell?”
“I believe it to be a fairy tale,” says William, shaking his head. “A story the surviving vampires tell themselves to retain their sanity and hope. I am afraid we are all that is left. No one is coming to rescue us.”
“How did you learn all this?” I ask.
He shakes his head like he’s not going to tell me. “Everything I say will only feed the target on your back.”
“I doubt holding out on me now will make that target disappear.” I shut the book and set it aside. Without it, the space between us feels smaller. “I deleted the recording I made of you off my phone and the cloud,” I say, neglecting to mention that I kept a backup.
There’s a look of open awe on his face, like he can’t believe I’ve given up what little power I had. Maybe this proof of my trust will convince him to reciprocate.
“You were gone for like a month,” I say. “Tell me something.”
His jaw tautens as if he were wrestling with himself.
“Please,” I beg without breaking eye contact.
“The modern vampire drinks his blood from a wineglass,” he says, and I feel my chin drop open.
“You’re joking.”
He looks pleased by my reaction and goes on. “Instead of drinking from the vein, the proper protocol is to steal donated blood from hospitals.”
“That’s … good,” I say, glad to know this. “What happened when you left with Nate and Cisco?”
“They took me to Boston, where I met a vampire who forges documents. He set me up with a birth certificate, passport, and driver’s license. I also met another vampire who works in finance who set me up with a bank account. I make a hundred thousand dollars every month.”
“Just for existing?” I ask, my jaw dropping yet again.
“Well, I am a member of an endangered species.”
“I hear polar bears get two hundred thousand.”
“Remind me to renegotiate.”
I realize I’m leaning far enough forward that I’m practically in his face, so I straighten my spine and pull back. “Why did you leave Nate and Cisco if they were helping you?”
“Remember Leonardo the Bloody?” he asks.
I nod, my hands growing clammy from just hearing the name.
“I flew to Paris to meet him.”
I can’t feel the space heater anymore, and my body temperature plummets twenty degrees. It takes me a few seconds to summon my voice. “What?”
“He is the new leader.”
Now I wish I didn’t know any of this. From what William described, that vampire only thinks of humans as sustenance, so the fact that he’s still around—and in charge—is horrifying beyond measure.
“What happened in your meeting?” I ask in a whisper, as if Leonardo the Bloody could hear us across continents.
“He—”
William’s gaze dips, and he searches the floor, as if he dropped the rest of his sentence and is trying to find it. “I did not stay long. I sensed your life was in danger and left.”
“That’s quite a superpower,” I say, and in a more serious tone, I add, “Thank you.”
He meets my gaze, and this time I catch myself leaning forward as I’m doing it. “I still don’t understand why you can’t just exist in both worlds?” I ask as I pull back.
“We both know I belong with them, Lore.”
The nickname is like a full-body caress. It loosens something in my chest, and I hear myself say, “I wish you would stay.”
He still looks so surprised that I want him around.
“As long as I am with you,” he says, “you are in danger.”
“That’s strange, since I seem to be in the most danger when you’re not around.”
“Ever the resourceful arguer.” He almost sounds admiring.
I try to think of a more convincing argument.
There are only fifty-four vampires left, and none of them can turn humans.
Nor can they leave behind trails of bodies, or they risk potential discovery by the Legion.
All they can do is wait for the Stoker vampires of the past to return. They sound a lot like a cult.
“If you need to lay low, why can’t you just be a student here as, like, your cover?”
“How would I feed? The nearest hospital is a couple of hours away. Even if I steal blood from them, where would I store it?”
“You can…” I swallow, my throat parched, “feed off me.”
The look on his face makes me feel naked. And I realize how much of myself I have just exposed.
William is no longer a threat to me or my friends. He is ready to walk away entirely. And I’m offering him my blood to stay.
Because I can’t let him go.
This time it feels like he’s leaning in, too. My pulse jumps into a higher gear, and I hate that he can hear it.
“It is getting late,” he says, rising to his feet all of a sudden. He holds out his hand for mine, and when I press my palm to his, he pulls me up.
“Is this—goodbye?” The question comes out a murmur, my voice sinking along with my heart.
“I will stay one more day,” he says, and my pulse resumes its normal beat. “Good night, Lore.”
“Good night, Will.”
WHEN I get back to the room, Tiffany is asleep, but Salma is sitting up in bed, waiting for me.
I grab my toothbrush, and she follows me down to the bathroom. As soon as we’re inside, she asks, “Where were you?”
Her arms are crossed beneath her knitted brow, and a quick look around tells me we’re alone. “With him,” I say.
“And why the fuck did he come back?”
“To save my life.”
Salma’s angry expression cracks with surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“Nate threatened to kill me if William didn’t come back today. I guess Will knew I was in danger through our Familiar bond, so he rushed here. I tried telling you all day, but Nate was watching and listening too carefully. He warned me if I said anything, he would kill you, too.”
Now Salma’s face goes slack with shock.
“They feel entitled to kill anyone who knows about them,” I warn her now that she’s listening. “We have to be careful.”
“What did William tell you?” she asks.
“Nate and Cisco are gone. And he … he’s leaving, too,” I say, and I hear the way my voice falters, heartache cutting into my words.
“So he’s gone then?”