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I start in on my food, enjoying the exquisite flavor that bursts over my tongue. Food in my father’s house was never this good. The food is simple, but I find that my appetite is suddenly ravenous. It doesn’t take long for me to devour my breakfast before sitting back in my chair and sipping on the warmth of my coffee.
The year 1571. That was over four hundred years ago, and yet I can’t seem to rationalize how old Miriam’s body is compared to her age. She has an ageless appearance to her. A glow that tells me she isn’t human, but she appears almost human. I sneak a peek at the men and women floating about the kitchen, going about their daily work. Their movements are graceful, their skin pristine. Some of them even appear as if they’re walking on air. They all have shiny hair and glowing skin.
Miriam’s hands are gnarled from work but still youthful. She looks to be in her sixties or seventies but moves about as if she’s still in her twenties. But it’s the eyes that catch my attention the most. There’s a ring around her irises that’s nearly indiscernible unless you know what you’re looking for. At first glance, I thought it was the same color as the Kings. A rich red surrounding a bed of golden amber. But the outer ring of her eye isn’t red.
It’s an ethereal silver that, if I hadn’t seen it for myself, I might have thought was a trick of light.
“You think so loud you might as well be talking aloud.” Miriam interrupts my thoughts from where she’s preparing a pie for tonight’s dinner. One I’m hoping doesn’t include guests…or me. “What’s on your mind, child?”
“You’re not human.” No point in beating around the bush. She must sense my wandering, curious gaze, because her eyes flicker to me, and she grins.
“Very keen observation,” she compliments as she rolls out the crust. “I’m not human, no. None of the staff here are.”
“So, the men last night…” I trail off. They must be human.
Miriam sneers. “The masters’ business associates. They may run the East Coast underworld, but they have a human enterprise to keep running. Unfortunately, some of the men they tend to deal with are…” She pauses. “Unsavory.”
I snort, unable to help myself. The way her odd accent says the word unsavory, like she’s royalty and they’re gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe, is priceless.
“You were turned during the Ottoman empire in the sixteenth century.” I don’t phrase it as a question because that’s the only possibility. The Ottoman Empire existed from 1299 to 1923, before it became known as Turkey.
Her hands still, and she glances over, curious.
“No, dear,” she tells me. “I was never turned. Nor will I ever choose to be. Goodness, especially not at this age.”
Confusion furrows my brow. How can she not be a vampire? Inheriting a set of Turkish cups around 1571 means that she was born sometime in the early sixteenth century.
“I don’t understand.”
Miriam tilts her head at me, her keen eyes studying me. “I wasn’t made a vampire. I was born one.”
Chapter 10
Thalia
“That’s impossible. Vampires can’t have children.”
Stepping away from the pie, Miriam dusts her hands on her apron and takes a seat across from me.
“Did your father teach you nothing about the supernatural world?” she asks, concern lining her voice. Now I’m puzzled. Supernatural world. As far as I have always been aware, there are only vampires.
Vampires and humans.
“My father was never keen on me,” I tell her. “He never talked much about his vampire associates.”
“I’m not talking about vampires, Thalia,” she says gently. “Your father didn’t just do business with them. I’m talking about everything else in between.”
“What else is there?”
Miriam sighs.
“It surprises me that a Sinclair knows nothing about dhampir, since your family’s bloodline comes from one of the greatest in history.”
Dhampir. I’ve never heard that word mentioned by anyone in our family.
Seeing the confusion, Miriam elaborates. “Dhampir are supernaturals who are half-vampire. There are all types of dhampir in the world, from human to fae.” Her eyes lift to mine, which widen in surprise as the silver ring around her eyes grows brighter and ethereal.
“Female vampires cannot carry, of course,” she continues. “Their reproductive organs shut down in the early stages of transformation. But a male’s reproductive system can last centuries, if not longer.”
