Chapter 9 #2
"Having a donor that we're responsible for, that we're invested in - and I don't mean monetarily -" His eyes met hers, intense and unwavering. "It makes it easier to control the urges that swell up when our fangs slide down to feed."
Beth nodded slowly, processing this revelation. It made sense - having someone you cared about, someone whose wellbeing mattered to you personally, would provide a powerful anchor against darker impulses.
"Like having a family to protect," she murmured, thinking of how her own predatory nature was tempered by her bonds with Naomi and the others.
"Exactly." Tyr's shoulders relaxed slightly. "The connection helps ground us, reminds us of our humanity even in those moments when the predator threatens to take over."
The conversation had shifted to something deeper than she'd expected over breakfast, this mutual recognition of the predators they carried within.
She traced the rim of her mug, curious about the practical aspects of Tyr's arrangement with Derek.
"So with Derek as your Blood Sworn, how does that arrangement actually work day-to-day? "
"It works out well for everyone." Tyr shrugged.
"We get blood as we need it. Derek gets hands-on experience, plus a place to live, tuition, and a steady salary, in addition to what he makes part-time with the security company.
As well, we get someone we trust and who knows about us, working at Shadow Guard.
" His blue eyes sparkled. "Plus, when he graduates, there's a full-time position waiting if he wants it. "
"So it's almost a kind of partnership?" Beth asked, fascinated by all this.
"Exactly." Tyr nodded approvingly. "When you've lived as long as we have, you learn the value of investing in people, building relationships that benefit everyone involved.
" He took a sip of coffee. "Derek's got real talent with computers.
It would be wasteful not to nurture that.
He's not under any obligation to join Shadow Guard when he graduates, but it's our hope he'll want to. "
The waitress appeared with Beth's pancakes, momentarily halting their conversation. Steam rose from the golden stack, blueberries dotting the fluffy surface like tiny colorful jewels.
Beth picked up her fork, then hesitated as she glanced at Tyr sitting across from her. The steaming pancakes smelled incredible, but eating while he could only watch felt oddly rude.
"This is awkward," she murmured, setting her fork back down. "Eating in front of you, when you can't."
A rich chuckle escaped Tyr's throat. "Not at all.
" His blue eyes crinkled with genuine amusement.
"After seven centuries, I assure you I've made peace with my dietary restrictions.
" He gestured toward her plate. "Please, enjoy your breakfast. Even the smell doesn't tempt me anymore - it's like looking at a painting.
I can appreciate its beauty without wanting to eat it. "
"You're sure?" Beth fidgeted with her napkin. "Because I could get this wrapped up to go..."
"Beth." Tyr leaned forward, his expression warm.
"I invited you here because you needed to decompress after a rough night.
That means actually eating the breakfast you ordered.
" His lips quirked. "Besides, watching humans enjoy food is one of life's small pleasures.
Their expressions of delight, the way tension melts away with good food - it's rather charming. "
Beth felt herself blushing at his words, but she picked up her fork again. The first bite of pancake melted on her tongue, butter and maple syrup creating the perfect balance of sweet and rich. A small sound of pleasure escaped before she could stop it.
"See?" Tyr's eyes danced. "Charming."
Beth laughed, the tension finally easing from her shoulders. She glanced around the nearly empty diner - the truckers remained focused on their meals, and the elderly man lingered over his coffee while absorbed in his newspaper. Leaning forward, she lowered her voice to barely above a whisper.
"So... how did you become a..." She glanced around again before mouthing the word, "vampire?"
Tyr's expression softened with memory, his blue eyes taking on that distant look that spoke of centuries past. "It was during the Black Death - 1347 in Genoa.
My brother and I were merchants, just twenty-seven.
" His fingers traced patterns in the condensation on his coffee cup.
"Not long after we arrived, the plague hit the city hard.
First the rats died, then the people started falling ill. We thought we could outrun it, but..."
He shook his head, ancient grief flickering across his features. "Tobi got sick first. I refused to leave him, of course. By the next day, I was showing symptoms too. We both knew we were dying.
Beth's fork paused halfway to her mouth. "You had the plague? I thought that killed people within days."
"It did." Tyr's voice carried the weight of centuries. "Back then, we just called it 'the plague' - no one knew there were actually different types. What Tobi and I had was pneumonic plague."
"I thought..." Beth set her fork down, brow furrowing. "I always thought the Black Death was bubonic plague. You know, the one with the swollen lymph nodes they called buboes?"
"That was the most common type, yes." Tyr's fingers traced the rim of his coffee cup.
"Bubonic plague spread through flea bites.
The bacteria would travel through the lymphatic system, causing those characteristic swellings.
Painful, but you could survive it if you were strong enough - maybe three in ten lived. "
He took a slow sip of coffee. "But pneumonic plague was different. It infected the lungs directly and spread through the air - just breathing near someone who had it could infect you. Almost nobody survived that form."
"I've never heard of that type before." Beth wrapped her hands around her cooling mug.
"There was a third type too - septicemic plague. That one went straight to the blood." Tyr's expression darkened. "If you got that, you were dead within hours. Your skin would turn black while you were still alive, hence why they called it 'the Black Death.'"
Beth shivered, imagining the horror of watching your own body turn black as the infection spread through your blood. "So you and Tobi..."
"We had pneumonic plague. We were coughing up blood, our fever so high we were delirious." His voice grew distant with memory. "By the second day, we could barely breathe."
Beth's hand crept across the table before she could stop herself, her fingers brushing his cool skin. "That must have been terrifying."
"It was." Tyr's thumb stroked once across her knuckles, the gesture so quick she might have imagined it. "But then Antonio found us. He was an ancient vampire even then, and he saw something in us worth saving. He gave us a choice - die of the plague or live as vampires."
"Some choice," Beth murmured.
"Actually, it was." Tyr's voice carried centuries of certainty. "Antonio made sure we understood exactly what we were choosing - the need for blood, the darkness, watching everyone we knew grow old and die. He wanted us to choose with clear minds, not just from fear of death."
"But you both chose to turn?"
"We did." A smile touched his lips. "Tobi and I had already lost our mother when she died in childbirth.
And a few years ago, our father's ship went down.
We were all each other had left. The thought of one of us surviving while the other died.
.." He shook his head. "That wasn't an option we could accept. "
Beth pushed a blueberry around her plate, fascinated by this glimpse into Tyr's past. "Where were you from originally? Before Genoa, I mean."
"Bergen… a port city in Norway." Tyr's eyes lit up at the memory.
"It was part of the Hanseatic League - a powerful trading alliance across northern Europe.
Our family had been merchants there for generations.
" His fingers traced the rim of his coffee cup.
"We specialized in timber trade initially, but expanded into wool and furs.
The profits were excellent, especially from the Russian furs. "
"Wow!!! You're from Norway?"
"Yes, though of course, that was back in the 1300s.
" A fond smile played across his features.
"The harbor was always busy - ships coming and going, loaded with goods from across the known world.
The smell of salt air mixed with pine from the timber yards.
.." He shook his head. "Sometimes I can still hear the creak of the wooden wharves, the shouts of sailors in a dozen different languages. "
"Is that why you ended up in Genoa? For trade?"
"Exactly. We were expanding our routes into the Mediterranean." His expression darkened slightly. "The timing couldn't have been worse - we arrived just as ships arrived from Caffa, a port city in the Crimea, carrying the plague."
Beth found herself leaning forward, drawn in by the way his voice softened when speaking of his homeland. "Do you ever go back? To Bergen, I mean?"
"Sometimes." Tyr's fingers drummed lightly on the table.
"Though it's changed so much I hardly recognize it now.
The old Hanseatic wharf is a tourist attraction these days.
But the mountains still look the same, and the fjords.
.." A wistful note crept into his voice.
"Those haven't changed in a thousand years. "
Beth speared another piece of pancake and hummed in pleasure, the blueberries bursting with sweetness.
"I've always dreamed of taking one of those cruises through the Norwegian fjords.
" She smiled, picturing the majestic landscapes she'd seen in travel magazines.
"The photos look incredible - those towering cliffs rising straight from the water, waterfalls everywhere. .."