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His grin was crooked, goofy even. I tried not to laugh, but instead crooked an eyebrow in his direction. “Ok, and?”
“I have collected and studied it for a hundred years. I’ve compared it to others' blood, I’ve mixed it with herbs…blended it…shaken it. It’s themostpowerful blood I’ve tasted to date.”
I can see his small fangs now, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s brought me in here to take my blood. I swallowed.
“I’m not sure I follow.”
He took a vile, uncorking it and tossing it back like a shot of brandy. I grimaced, trying not to imagine how terrible it tasted.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his clawed hand. “The day I fed from her—the first time—I was sick, questioning my life and the never-ending duty of being immortal.”
I took a vile of the syrupy tincture, turning it on its side and noticing it shimmer, like small particles of sunshine shimmering off a lake.
I pondered for a moment on what it would be like to be immortal. The fear of ever having to worry about death sounded pretty great to me.
“I dragged myself into the courtyard, ready to meet my death at the sun's arrival—only I didn’t burst into flames! I walked right into the sunlight unharmed!”
I blinked a few times, registering what he said. It could only mean that the façade of being human could be proven with this new information. No one would ever be able to accuse them of being undead—not when they could walk in the sunlight just like the rest of us.
My eyes widened in realization, and I watched Dante dance around the room, his black cloak floating behind him like a ball gown.
“And why are you telling me?”
He grabbed the vile from my hand, placing it back in its holder on the windowsill.
“Because you brought memoreof this blood. The blood of Freyja. Well done, boy.”
“Why Freyja?” I asked, stepping back out of the way as he continued his independent celebration.
“She is Lilith’s kin, my boy! I was never able to capture her, not like you! You deserve thanks, but you cannot share with Domenico what I have shared with you.”
A faded memory of one night in the great room, Domenico seated on the floor with his head in his hands, comes to me. The tapestry that hung before him was that of a naked woman, with long hair, standing beside a large tree. I immediately noticed the snake near her ear, and with a frightened urgency, asked him what story the tapestry told. Lilith, was the only word he spoke, never raising his head to meet my eyes.
“Who is Lilith?”
Dante sat, seemingly out of breath, but how could he be when he too was an immortal.
“It is said that she is a demi-Goddess, sent here from the Underworld. Her and Domenico were in love once.”
The sentence shot me through my chest, and I found myself looking around for a seat.
Domenico had been in love? Was Melody their child?
This would explain Domenico’s stoic, quiet demeanor. Why he only wanted to do those naughty things with me in private. I had always assumed it was because we were both males, but if he had loved another, perhaps he felt shame in his feelings for me.
Was this jealousy I felt? Would she return someday and reclaim him as her own?
“Did you love her?”
Silence, but then he nodded slowly.
“I should go…it’s late.”
10
LILITH
1644 FRANCE
