They are on their way to New York, where Nate and Cisco live. William tries not to think of the fact thatsheis also from that state.
He is determined not to look back; beyond being pointless, it will only put her in more danger. Now that he is aware of the precarious state of thevampires, he understands why Nate is so concerned about Familiars. Secrecy is imperative to their survival.
Our survival,he corrects himself.
No one can ever know about or see the video Lorena made. He must rectify that situation himself, the first chance he gets.
Through the window, he watches the scenery evolve from mountains and trees to bricks and concrete. There has been so much progress since his day that it is hard to take it all in. He feels overwhelmed by the world, and yet he must contain himself because he is being watched, his every reaction noted by the suspicious Nate.
They change trains a couple of times, and each one gets progressively more crowded, until they finally get off at the Atlantic Avenue station and climb to the surface. When he reaches the street, William freezes.
Every particle of space is consumed by people and buildings and cars and streetlights, and all sound is drowned by the drone of honking and shouting and engine rumblings. The sidewalk is an obstacle course of people walking, skateboarding, riding bicycles, and handing out flyers.
He has never been in a place thisalive.
“Welcome to Brooklyn,” says Cisco with a grin. “Nate hates it here, but to me, it feels like home.”
The streets are dirty and uneven, but William keeps spotting people sleeping on them. Back in his day, he would never have imagined that there could be more people than land in the world. It felt like there was so much yet to be discovered.
And now it is as if these humans do not have enough space. They look up at the stars as if they would colonize them, too.
William follows Nate and Cisco into a brick building and up five flights of stairs. Nate unlocks the door, and they step into a residence that is startlingly modern. A wide flat screen protrudes from a gray marble wall, facing a set of leather couches that are creased with wear. William peeks past a couple of doors that lead to bedrooms, each with a desk and computer. The whole thing seems so…
Human.
“What were you expecting?” asks Nate, who does not miss a note of William’s reaction. “Candlelight and coffins? Why would we still be living like it’s the 1700s?”
“Fair point,” says William. “How did you come by this place?”
“How else?” asks Nate, as if it were obvious. “We ate the owners.”
William furrows his brow. “Why not compel—?”
“Relax, we signed a lease,” says Nate. “Compulsion doesn’t work for everything.”
Cisco is no longer with them in the living room. William is parched from today’s exertion, so the instant he senses warm blood nearby, his throat starts to burn with hunger.
Yet he does not hear or sense any humans in this apartment.
“Let’s say I compel the owner of this place to give it to me for free,” says Nate, who must be pretending not to notice that William’s fangs are sticking out or that he keeps sniffing the air. “The owner answers to other people because he has bills to pay, maybe a spouse who depends on him. He would be forced to examine his decision to give it away for free, as would others, and that would bring us unwanted attention. Make sense?”
Cisco reappears then, and William does not process anything Nate said because all he is aware of is what the vampire is carrying. Cisco has three wineglasses in one hand and, in the other, a pitcher filled with warm blood.
He sets everything down on the coffee table, and Nate leans over to fill all three glasses. “To William Pride and his awakening,” he says, then he and Cisco clink glasses with William’s.
They all down their drinks in one go.
“Where does this blood come from?” asks William, licking his lips and serving himself a second glass.
“Humans donate it,” answers Nate. “Hospitals store the blood in freezers to be used for medical procedures. We take what we need from different places. We can’t always be killing people, or we’d be exposed.”
“But if we are drinking the blood of people who are alive, will they not become immune to compulsion?”
Nate shakes his head. “Doesn’t work that way. Familiars can only be made from the vein.”
“Yeah, Lenny tested it—”
“Let him drink,” says Nate, and William gets the impression Cisco said something wrong.
