AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You were a human before turning into a vampire, right?” Her eyes widen, as if to say ‘duh’. “Who were you?”
Who was I? It’s been a long,longtime since anyone has asked me that question. I lick my lips, staring deeply into her eyes. She wants vulnerability? To know the depths of my essence? Fine.
“I grew up in what is now southern New Mexico. My mother worked and lived at a brothel in the center of our poor village. That’s where I was raised, along with a few children who were in a similar situation. Never knew my father.” My gut lurches, and I lick the edge of my canines, feeling the throb of venom in my gums as my incisors ache to spring free. “When I was sixteen, I was enlisted in the militia. It wasn’t a serious thing at first, just a club for boys growing into men.” I pause, not breaking eye contact as I grab one of the cold beers and bring it to my lips. My head tilts, drinking deeply as I remember the beginning of my downfall. The glass clinks against the tabletop once I’m finished. “Then the war began.”
Jane’s cheeks turn more pink with each word I speak, but she’s ever patient as I share my snippet of history. “War?” She asks, taking a swig of her drink.
“The Mexican-American War. 1846.”
She chokes on her drink.
“Are you all right?” I grab a napkin, handing it to her from across the table. She takes it, eyes wide as she coughs. Nodding, she covers her mouth.
I grasp the edge of the table, carefully listening to her inner workings and paying special attention to her heartbeat as she breathes. Eventually, my death grip loosens, as does her throat.
She wads the napkin up and places it on the table, her palm flat against her chest. “1846?”
I remain silent, concentrating on her heartbeat until it slows to its normal rhythm.
“That makes you, uh.” Her brows knit as she stares upward, mentally calculating. “Shit, I’m not good with math. Like, two hundred years old?”
My lips quirks on one side. “One hundred and ninety-four years old, as of date.”
Her chin nearly hits the table. “No way. I mean, sure, you can be a vampire, but that’s like a virus in the real world, right? You can’t beactuallydead. Just souped-up,not immortal.”
Finally, something has caused my sweet Jane to do a double take. “I can assure you my heart no longer beats. I died in 1847, and I haven’t been human since.”
She leans back in her chair, jaw slack.
“Any other questions you’d like answered?” A lazy smile spreads across my face as I watch her reaction. She threads her brows, gazing at me as if I’m one of the seven wonders of the world.
“How’d you die?” Her words are a whisper.
My smile fades away. “The same way most people do. I stopped breathing.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Did you die in battle?”
Shrugging, I grab the neck of my beer, lifting it. “Something like that.”
“Did a vampire have to kill you? Drink your blood?”
The bottle shatters beneath the pressure of my touch, sending shards of glass everywhere. I move my arm quickly so that the remaining liquid doesn’t hit me or the table and instead lands on the floor. “Shit.”
Jane scoots her chair back, standing. “Oh, shoot. I’m sorry! Let me-”
I lift my other palm, halting her before she can drop to her knees beside the tiny pieces of glass. “Jane, stop. There’s no need foryouto be sorry.” I frown at her. “This was my mistake. Sit, I’ll clean it up.”
She pauses, her eyes searching mine to find something she must usually see in the faces of her peers. Guilt wars over her features, thinning her lips and causing a tiny worry line to appear between her brows.
“My fault.” I repeat. “I’ll clean it.”
She returns to her seat. Carefully, I grab an empty plate from the table nearest to ours and stack the sparkling shards on top of it. Our host won’t be pleased about the spill, but I had intended to tip well, anyway.
Jane sighs heavily, but I keep my focus turned downward, examining each etching on the floor as I pick up stray pieces of glass with my fingertips. After a moment of silence, I finally give her an answer. “Yes.”
Jane picks up her beer, the condensation making the glass sound slick as it’s lifted from the table. “Yes, what?”
I lift my head, staring up at her. The orange glow from the dimmed lights halo around her wavy blonde hair, shadowing her face.
