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“There were wars when you were a child?”
I shrugged. “No, not wars like have happened in recent memory. They were more like local skirmishes over territory. Nothing that hadn’t been happening for centuries before or after. Men always fight over territory. Over riches.” I turned to her. “Over beautiful women.”
I smiled at the flush that spread over her cheeks.
She was young and still uncertain of her beauty. It was an attractive feature in her – modesty. Many beautiful women I had known over the centuries were very aware of their attractiveness to men. Not Calla. She was very unaware.
She turned away and watched the clouds move away from the rising moon.
“Your family?” she asked.
“My parents had eight children before my father was turned when I was twelve. Once you’re a vampire, it’s a dead end when it comes to progeny.”
“You never had children? You can’t reproduce?”
“I did, once. A very long time ago before my father turned me. And no, I can’t anymore. Vampires are sterile.” I said nothing for a moment. “But not impotent.” I glanced at her, noting the way her cheeks flushed red.
So she wasn't entirely innocent of the ways of love.
“Are they alive? I mean, did you turn your family like your father turned you?”
I shook my head and a surge of regret filled me. “They all died before I could turn them. A plague struck when my sons were children. We were hoping for more and so my father hadn’t turned either my wife or me. You don’t turn babies or children under puberty so I lost them all.” I said nothing for a moment, my memories of their loss so vivid it stopped me from speaking.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft.
I glanced at her, and saw she truly felt bad for me. She was a sweet young woman. There was no artifice in her – no guile.
“It was so long ago," I said, "but no matter how many years pass, I can’t forget as much as I wish I could. I felt so guilty for I was away with my father inspecting our lands when the plague struck and it was too late to do anything when we returned. He wanted to turn me right away to protect me from it but I was completely broken by their deaths and wanted nothing more than to die myself. When I became ill soon after, he turned me to prevent me from dying as well. Now?” I said and glanced around before meeting her eyes. “My only children are those I turn.”
“How many have you turned?” she asked, frowning. I could see disapproval in her eyes and hear it in the to
ne of her voice.
“Not many,” I replied. “You have to think very carefully before turning a human. Condemning them to an eternal life of bloodlust is no small thing.”
It was the mention of bloodlust that seemed to wake her back up, make her nervous again and she slowly drew her hand away from mine.
“No, don’t, please,” I said and pulled her hand back, squeezing it between mine. “I know it must disgust you to think how old I am, but you make me warm. It’s a blessed relief after all those years in the dungeon.”
As if she felt sorry for me, she let me continue to hold her hand in mine.
“Whoever did that to you is a monster,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “Do you know who it was?”
“A rival family, I’d wager. One who wanted to punish my father by taking me away. I was his right hand when he decided to sleep.”
“Vampires sleep?”
“We can put ourselves in a trance-like state, entering into a condition of near-desiccation.”
“Why would you do that?”
“We often retreat from existence when it gets too hard. I can sleep for a month if I want after a big feed, but longer than that without blood and I start to desiccate. If I’m active, I need to feed daily.”
“So, tell me about your father. How did he become a vampire?”
I took in a deep breath. “The Vikings who invaded our lands brought a vampire along on the journey, unbeknownst to them. He turned my father in return for a safe haven in his lands. MacLaughlans is not our real surname. We took it on when it became opportune, and gained a title and lands. We’ve had several names, from several lands, but our origin is Norse and Scots.”
“So you’re…” she said, and I could see her do the math.
