“So this is the first vampire.” I laughed nervously. “Do I call her Mom?”
Grim walked over to the other side of her bed, looking down at the woman with what I could only guess was a tinge of sadness, maybe remorse?
“How long has she been here?” I asked.
Grim looked up as if startled from his own thoughts. “In this care facility? Maybe ten years, but we have to move her from time to time to make sure the staff doesn’t get suspicious.”
“How old is she, really?”
“Five thousand years old.”
I struggled to swallow that.
“Bianca said something happened to her arm,” Grim murmured, gently lifting the Original’s wrist.
“If she is a vampire, doesn’t she need blood in her coma state? And aren’t you worried about her getting fried?” I asked, gesturing to the semi-open blinds that would let sunlight in when the sun rose. She also had a heartbeat, which baffled me, but I knew if I bombarded him with too many questions, Grim would snap shut like a clam.
“No, the Original is,” he paused, seeming to struggle with how to respond, “different.” Again, there was that nostalgic look in his eye. He knew her. Probably from five thousand years ago. What a trip.
“Another ex?” I asked. My voice came out softer than I meant it to.
Looking up at that, he said, “What? No, but I guess you could say we are related.”
I nodded, though I understood even less. Death had a family? I mean, he had an ex-wife, an assistant, and a friend who was an Oracle, so why not?
“Why is she in a coma?”
Grim’s dark gaze cut across the room. “She is too dangerous to walk this world.”
“Then why don’t you…” I wasn’t sure why I paused, but I got the sense this was a personal matter.
“Kill her?” he finished for me. “She is the Original Sekhor, and she can’t be killed. But it’s best she remain in slumber.” He ran his fingers along her arms, slowly, surely. Watching the pads of his fingers glide along her forearm made me shiver. They were strong, sure hands, with elegant fingers. I could see them performing complicated surgeries or sliding along naked flesh with expert use of pressure.
“Are you cold?” he asked without looking up.
“Yes,” I said automatically. But temperature had nothing to do with that zing that shot up my spine while watching him. I’d been imagining how his delicate ministrations would feel on my arm and elsewhere.
“There,” he said, pointing to the inside of her elbow. “Do you see it?”
Coming to stand on the opposite side of the bed, I directed my attention to the spot next to his finger. “Looks like a slight bruise from a needle. So what?” I gestured to her other arm; it was hooked up to a bag of saline and god only knew what else to keep her kicking. Or laying, as it were.
He shook his head. “No, this is what Bianca saw. Someone came and took the Original’s blood.”
“How many people know where the Original is?”
“Only Timothy, myself, and a few trusted others.” When he raised his head, there was a storm cloud of fury in his eyes. “Someone came here and took her blood, then made a master vampire with it.”
“That’s how you make a master vampire?”
His tone snapped like a rubber band. “You will not speak of this to anyone.”
I stuck a hand on my hip. “Who am I gonna tell? Vampire Groupies R Us? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a fan of my new brethren.”
He was not amused by my quip and muttered something about eventually killing me anyway.
To distract him from his eventual homicidal plans for me, I walked around the room. Suddenly, I swayed on my feet as a dizzy spell hit me. About to smash face-first into the floor, I reached for the wall, hoping to catch myself.
Next thing I knew, Grim was at my side, holding me up. He’d circled me in arms of steel, though there was a gentleness to the way he handled me. “We need to go,” Grim said, his words clipped. “Dawn is coming.”
