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“So you were a human once. That means there is human still in you.”
“The human in me died when I was thirty-eight years old. There is nothing of him left.”
“Then that means there’s nothing of the human in me left.”
“Moonshine,” he says to me, placing his hands around my waist. “You were born to a human father. A witch is still a human. And even if you were full vampire, being a human doesn’t make you better. It’s not something to aspire to. What you want, what you’re really after, is humanity.” He tilts his head as his eyes coast over me. “And that, my dear, is something you have in spades. Yet another reason that you shouldn’t be so close to someone like me.”
I shake my head. “You’re the only one who understands me.”
I’m meant for you.
“There are others,” he says. “Wolf, even Amethyst understands a little, when she’s not spilling your secrets. There are other vampires out there, ones newly turned just like you. They come to this place. You’ll find them. And you’ll be happy.”
“I don’t want others,” I tell him, pressing my fingers on his cheekbone. “I only want you.”
“Even after you’ve seen what I’ve done?” His brow raises.
“Even then. You’ve seen me become a monster for a moment,” I tell him, thinking of how I was in the bathtub. “I know what it’s like to lose control. I know the shame.”
He observes me for a moment, frowning. Then he shakes his head. Strong hands around my waist lift me out of the chair, and then he’s getting to his feet.
“Come, I want to show you something,” he says, taking my hand in his. His palm against mine creates a flutter up my arm, straight to my heart.
He leads me out of the cigar lounge and through the doors of the club, then down another flight of stairs, leading to another underground level. He opens the door with a skeleton key, and we walk inside.
It’s the room where I was held hostage, though it’s completely empty now, no mattress, no chairs. It’s weird to be back here, knowing it wasn’t that long ago but so much has changed since then. I’m a different person altogether…half a person, really.
He takes me toward the section at the back, with the long floor to ceiling wood slats, the darkness behind it, a cold breeze creeping out through the narrow slits. The smell is strong, something I wouldn’t have noticed before. It smells like old paper and brimstone and…the dead. I don’t even know how to describe the smell, because it’s not the rotting dead, but the ancient dead. Dust and bones.
My stomach twists with unease.
He flicks another skeleton key out and opens the door into the room. There are no lights on in here, just the light from the other room coming in through the slats, but since both of us can see well in the dark, there is no need.
What I’m staring at is a bunch of old chests piled high, crates of jewels and gemstones and priceless treasures, stacks of folded fabric or clothes, and…
Skulls.
Lots and lots of skulls.
Human skulls, completely surrounding us. There must be hundreds in here.
“What is this place?” I whisper, afraid to breathe in. “Catacombs?”
“It’s where I keep those I’ve killed,” he says simply.
I can’t help but gasp, staring around me. “You…killed all these people? Why?”
He makes a sucking sound at his teeth. “I’m a vampire, Lenore. It’s what we do. It’s what we had to do until we found another way. This isn’t even the half of it.”
“No,” I tell him, putting my hand on his arm. “I mean, why keep them?”
He gives me a ghost of a smile. “Because I too am looking for humanity.” He gestures to the skulls with his keys. “This lets me remember what I am, what I’ve done. It reminds me to never do it again. Ball and chain. I kill, I take their skull because I deserve to remember what I did. We all have to pay a penance here.”
I let his words sink over me. He keeps their skulls to remind him of his sins.
“I didn’t think vampires were religious,” I say, thinking of how priests use crosses and holy water to keep them at bay.
“We can be,” he says. “I was one of God’s creatures once, but not anymore. He looks the other way when it comes to me.” He exhales, looking around. “Sometimes I think maybe I was a clergyman when I was a human. I have flashes of being in a church, praying, being at peace. I remember the Nordic runes tattooed on my skin. But it never lingers long enough to capture.”
I close my eyes for a moment, wondering if I can bring up that memory too. It seems that when he talks about his past is when I see it. But I only see skulls, even behind my eyes. Better to keep them open.
