Chapter 27
The main hall of Sophia’s compound felt warmer and more intimate than usual. Candles flickered shadows on the walls, and a fire crackled in the large hearth. The wooden table in the middle was covered with wine.
Kate entered the hall with Devon, surprised by the atmosphere of celebration despite the gravity of what lay ahead. Tomorrow night, they would board Sophia’s jet and fly toward what might be their final confrontation with Aleksander. Tonight, however, felt like something else entirely.
“Kate!” called Liliana, raising her glass in greeting. “Come, sit with us. We’re about to begin sharing.”
“Sharing what?” Kate asked as Devon guided her toward the table where a dozen vampires had gathered.
“An old tradition,” Sophia explained from her position at the head of the table. “Before any significant battle or journey, we share our origins. It reminds us who we are, where we came from, and why we fight together.”
Kate took her seat between Devon and Mikhail.
The others settled around the table: Liliana, Luc, Thomas (who sat close to Sophia), and several others whose names she was still learning.
The atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed, filled with the easy friendship of people who had faced danger together before.
“I’ll begin,” Sophia announced, raising her glass of deep red wine.
“As is my right as the eldest.” She paused, her eyes growing distant.
“I was born in 1425 in what is now Wallachia. I was turned at twenty-eight by a disillusioned crusader who believed he was creating soldiers for a forgotten war. The irony wasn’t lost on me, even then. ”
Laughter rippled around the table, and Kate was struck by how easily they could find humor in what must have been traumatic experiences.
“I was turned during the siege of my village,” Sophia continued. “My maker offered me a choice: die with my family, or live to protect others from suffering the same fate. I chose to live, and I’ve spent the last six centuries trying to honor that choice.”
“And doing a damn fine job of it,” Liliana said, raising her glass. The others murmured agreement.
Sophia smiled and gestured to her left. “Liliana?”
Liliana straightened, and her expression turned thoughtful. “I was born in 1456 and turned in 1483 in Venice during the height of the Renaissance.” Her accent still carried some Italian even after all these centuries. “My maker was a patron of the arts who became… overly attached to me.”
“Overly attached?” Devon asked with a raised eyebrow.
“He turned me without my consent because he couldn’t bear the thought of my aging and dying,” Liliana said matter-of-factly. “I spent the first century of my new existence plotting his destruction. Eventually succeeded, too.”
More laughter, though Kate detected an edge to it. The casual way Liliana discussed murder was still jarring, even after everything she’d experienced.
“Mikhail?” Sophia prompted.
“Born 1612, turned 1640. Moscow, during the Time of Troubles. I was a boyar’s son, which meant exactly nothing when the Polish army came through.
” His Russian accent was faint but unmistakable.
“My maker found me dying in the ruins of my family’s estate.
Said I had ‘potential.’ Never did figure out what he meant by that. ”
“Your charming personality, obviously,” Thomas said with a grin, earning him a good-natured glare from Mikhail.
The sharing continued around the table. They each told their story with a mixture of gravity and humor that spoke to centuries of processing their transformations. Kate learned that Luc had been turned in 1975 during a punk rock concert in London, a fact he relayed with a rebellious grin.
“What strikes me,” Kate said during a lull in the conversation, “is how many of you didn’t choose this. How do you… how do you make peace with that?”
The table grew quiet for a moment, and Kate worried she’d overstepped. Then Liliana spoke up.
“You find purpose,” she said simply. “My maker stole my mortality, but he couldn’t steal my will. I chose what to do with the immortality he forced on me.”
“And you find family,” added Mikhail, gesturing around the table. “Not the family you were born into, but the one you choose. The one that chooses you back.”
“Speaking of which,” Sophia turned to Kate with a gentle smile, “would you like to share? I know your transformation was… recent and traumatic.”
Kate felt all eyes on her and took a steadying breath. “Born 1995, turned…” She had to think for a moment. “Three weeks ago? God, it feels like a lifetime.”
“It is a lifetime,” Devon said softly. “Your human lifetime ended, and your immortal one began.”
Kate continued. “I was an artist. The transformation wasn’t my choice, but…” She looked around the table at the familiar faces. These people had accepted her without question. “But I’m starting to understand that what matters isn’t how you become what you are. It’s what you do with it afterwards.”
“Beautifully said,” Sophia murmured.
“And Devon?” Liliana asked with a mischievous smile. “Surely our mysterious art collector has an origin story?”
Now he put down his wine glass and reflected on his words. “I was born in 1591,” he started, his voice soft. “I was turned in 1623, in Vienna.” He paused. “My maker, Elisabeta, drugged me, fed me her blood, and then turned me against my will.”
The table went silent, sensing the weight of his revelation.
“But like Sophia said,” Devon continued, “what matters is what I chose to do after the fact. I chose to collect and preserve beauty, protect it. That led me to all of you and eventually to Kate.”
“To Kate,” Sophia said, lifting her glass. “Who reminds us that sometimes the most beautiful things refuse to be owned.”
“To Kate,” the others repeated, and Kate felt a warmth spread through her chest, unrelated to the wine.
As the evening went on, the conversation became more relaxed and playful. They shared stories about their backgrounds and adventures, mishaps, and the small moments that had brought them together over the years.
Kate learned that Liliana and Mikhail had a long rivalry over who was the better swordsman.
They settled this with regular duels that usually ended in ties.
She also learned that Luc had once tried to start a vampire punk band in the 80s, and although it ended poorly, he still took pride in the effort.
Additionally, he had been the one to encourage Sophia to embrace modern technology.
“You should have seen her first encounter with a computer,” Luc said, grinning at Sophia’s mock-glare. “She was convinced it was some form of dark magic.”
“It might as well have been,” Sophia scoffed. “At least dark magic follows logical rules.”
The laughter that followed was warm and genuine, and Kate found herself thinking about how strange and wonderful it was to be sitting here, surrounded by beings who had lived through centuries of history, sharing jokes and wine as if they were old college friends.
“I have a question,” Kate said during another lull. “How did you all find each other? How did this…” she gestured around the table, “how did this family form?”
“Slowly,” Sophia replied. “Over decades and centuries. Some came to me seeking purpose, others were rescued from bad situations. A few, like Liliana, simply showed up one night and refused to leave.”
“I was bored,” Liliana said with a shrug. “Centuries of existence will do that to you. Sophia offered something I hadn’t had in a long time, a cause worth fighting for.”
“And what cause is that, exactly?” Kate asked. “I mean, I know we’re fighting Aleksander, because of what he did to me, but what are we fighting for?”
The question seemed to energize the group. Voices overlapped as they tried to explain:
“Choice—”
“To exist without—”
“Freedom from old hierarchies—”
“Enough,” Sophia interjected with gentle authority. “Kate asks a fair question, and she deserves a clear answer.”
The table fell silent as those seated waited for Sophia to finish. “We fight for the right of vampires to choose their own lives. Old hierarchies have treated their progeny like property for too long. "
“Aleksander represents everything we oppose,” Luc added. “He sees humans as resources to exploit, and anyone who disagrees as enemies to destroy.”
“So we’re not just fighting him,” Kate said, understanding dawning. “We’re fighting for a different kind of supernatural society entirely.”
“Yes,” Devon said. “A society where vampires like you can choose their own path, where consent matters, where power doesn’t automatically grant the right to dominate others.”
Kate looked around the table at these creatures who had welcomed her, protected her, and accepted her as family.
Tomorrow, they would risk everything in a battle that might destroy them all.
But tonight, they were simply people who had found each other across the centuries and chosen to stand together.
“I’m honored to fight beside you,” she said quietly. “All of you.”
“And we’re honored to have you with us,” Sophia replied as she took Kate’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
As the evening ended and everyone started to return to their quarters, Kate stayed at the table with Devon. The candles were nearly burned out, creating long shadows on the stone walls, and the fire had turned to glowing embers.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Devon asked quietly.
Kate considered the question. She reflected on the creatures she had encountered that evening, on the family she had found in the most surprising situations. Regardless of her feelings of readiness, she was committed.
“I’m ready,” she said with resolve.
Devon smiled and took her hand. “That’s my girl.”
As they made their way to their quarters, Kate reflected on how much had changed in just a few weeks. She’d gone from a solitary artist focused only on her work to someone who had found a cause worth dying for and a family worth living for.
Tomorrow would bring danger, uncertainty, and quite possibly death.
But tonight had brought something else entirely, the knowledge that she belonged somewhere, that she was part of something larger than herself.
The ties formed around that table were bonds of choice, respect, and a shared commitment to something better than the past.