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"No, luckily," the vampire says, a lopsided grin on his face. "He's a bit stuffy, lacks imagination but is very easy tocompel."
He steps even closer, his arm on the wall beside myhead.
"I've been looking for this manuscript for a decade, Eve, so I'm so glad you posted that message to the forum. You see, it's about my brother and me. It was written after we were both turned in1224."
"You're one of the de Cernay twins," I say, blurting it out like they're a pair of rock stars and I'm a fan. "How did you find me soquickly?"
"I have a service that scans the web specifically for requests to translate 13th century French documents. Don't blame yourself, sweet Eve," he says and wipes tears off my cheek, slipping his finger into his mouth, his eyes closing like the taste pleases him. He keeps saying my name and I wonder if he isn't trying to mesmerize me – I think vampires can dothat.
I'm standing there, pinned against the wall, barely able to breathe because he's so close and he's a vampire and could kill me in a second if he wants to and he's tasting my tears like some connoisseur of human bodilyfluids.
"Please don't hurtme."
"Oh, I'm not going to hurt you, Eve. What do you think I am? Amonster?"
Yes. I do think you're a monster — themost beautiful monster I've ever imagined. I'm breathless as he stares into my eyes, brushing the hair back from my cheek. He runs a finger over my bottom lip and leans closer and I fear he's going to kissme.
"I know who you are as well," he says almost whispering. "I know what you are even though you don't. The last thing I want is to have you find out my secrets, and they're contained within that manuscript, just in case you decide to come after me one day with all your dreams of vengeance and your freakish vampire hunterskills."
I hold my breath, waiting for what he's going to do. I can't move, and I wish I'd had more time to read my mother's files. I don't know much about vampires, except the usual folklore. Can he make me forget about him and themanuscript?
"How do you know who I am?" I manage to whisper, barely able to speak from whatever it is he's doing tome.
"Let's just say vampires have a specialtouch."
Then he touches my cheek, holding his fingers there and a wave of elation flows through me, washing away the last remnants of sadness from the memory he made me relive. I can't help but close my eyes until it passes. When I can think clearly again, I open my eyes and I believe him when he says he's going to make me forget. I don't want that tohappen.
"Which one are you?" I say, hoping to keep him talking so that he's not biting my neck or making me forget. "If you're going to wipe my memory, at least tell menow."
"Curiosity killed the cat," he says and smiles, then runs his fingers along my chin, stroking my skin. "But I'm Michel, the former priest, the once-Bishop of Carcassonne, at least for a few days before it was taken from me bydeath."
He pronounces it Mee-shell, notMi-kul like Americans do. When I hear that he was the priest, I can't help but raise myeyebrows.
"Oh, you're surprised that I was the priest? The chaste one? Well, my chastity was taken from me the day I became a vampire." He says it with such emotion that I know he's been hurt verydeeply.
"Please don't make me forget," Iwhisper.
"I have no choice," he says and he truly looks like he feels regret, his brow furrowed. "You're very sweet, and very lovely and I admit it is tempting to induct you into our secret world. You're so tempting. You have such unique coloring. Fair hair like silk, and I love your lips," he says and runs his finger over my top lip now and I close my eyes for it's like something passes between us whenever he touches my skin – some kind of strange connection I've never feltbefore.
"I love your eyes," he continues. "Such a unique shade of hazel. So many flecks of different color – gold, green, brown, even violet. And your freckles," he says and smiles. "They make you look like…" He pauses. "Vous avez l'air d'un brat. You look like a brat. I love brats,Eve."
He pauses for a moment, watchingme.
"But most of all, Eve, I love your dimples," he says and strokes my cheek. "You're not smiling now, but you did earlier and when I saw them, I had the most inexplicable desire to grab you and kiss them, dipping my tongue into eachone."
When I open my eyes, he's no longer smiling. He looks at me for a moment as if deciding, blinking rapidly. Finally, he exhales, his eyes closed for amoment.
"I'll give you the Cliff Notes version," he says and plays with a lock of my hair, passing it under his nose and breathing in. "Long story short, identical twin brothers, both priests. When the Church turned against our family for tolerating Catharism, my brother Julien left the Church, forsaking his vows, remaining loyal to our father while I remained loyal to the Holy Father." He pauses for a moment, looking down as if rememberinghurts.
As he tells this story, he pulls back from me and I can finally breathe almostnormally.
"Julien wrote the manuscript," he says and then looks in my eyes. "He's always been far too open about everything, impetuous, indiscreet. On the other hand, I'm a paragon of reticence and discretion. Big fight ensued, a house divided, et cetera, et cetera. Veryboring."
I pull away just a bit as well and I can see the manuscript out of the corner of my eye. I briefly consider grabbing it and running, but one thing I do know about vampires is that they're preternaturally fast. So am I and I wonder if I could beat him in a race to the frontentry…
"I joined the crusade and my brother fought against it," he says, staring at the wall thoughtfully, running a finger along the grain in the wood panel. "Then one week, when we were winning, and I had just taken over the Bishophood of Carcassonne, a monster claimed us both, turning us into vampires and we've been fighting each other ever since, still on opposite sides of the cause. We may be identical in looks, but not in character or temperament. He's adapted to this existence. He wants to keep being a vampire." He turns to me, his eyes dark. "I'm the one trying to kill us alloff."
I swear I can see pain in his eyes even now, after eightcenturies.
