“Do what?” I asked.
“Kill Lucian. You know, he can be alright. But If I’m being honest, I thought about killing him a few times, too. Just never got around to it.”
“I didn’t kill him. He’s right over there?” I pointed, wishing Lucian would sense my discomfort and hurry back.
“Oh,” Vlad said easily, laughing. “Just fucking with you. Besides, I haven’t killed anyone in a long, long time.” He made uncomfortable eye contact with me as he sipped and spat another mouthful of his drink.
“Why do you do that, exactly?”
“It brings back memories. Can’t swallow it though or I get horrible indigestion.”
“Are you really as old as you say?” I asked.
He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “You won’t get answers like that out of me unless you’re playing poke the vampire with some sharp objects.” Vlad leaned forward suddenly, elbows now on his knees and eyes lit with fiery excitement. “Do you want to play that with me?”
I swallowed. “No, thank you though.”
“Your loss. Anyway, I’ve got to go. And don’t mention to old Lucy that I said I’d considered killing him.”
I grinned. “Why, are you scared of him? I thought the older the vampire, the more powerful.”
“I am a man of peace. Besides, I only torture and kill humans. I have no interest in getting involved in messy vampire conflicts. Too much work.”
“You said you haven’t killed anyone in a very long time.”
Vlad hesitated. “Right. Yes, like I said. I have tortured and killed humans. A very long time ago. Maurice!” Vlad yelled suddenly, dropping his drink to double-point at a nervous looking man with elongated fangs hanging over his lower lip. “Where the hell have you been, you fucker?”
Vlad mercifully rushed off. Lucian came back a short while later, looking toward Vlad. “Did Vlad come speak to you?”
“You could call it that,” I said.
Lucian nodded absently.
“Are you sure he’s… You know, safe?”
“Vlad is harmless. Here,” he said, handing me a glass of wine in a fancy crystal goblet. “Go ahead. Enjoy yourself.”
I looked suspiciously at the drink.
“It’s possible that you might wish to be slightly inebriated before you witness the fight.”
“Are the Marsh people you mentioned still coming?”
“The Marsh children should be here any moment.”
“Children?” I asked.
A waitress set down a sandwich for me. One look and I realized I was actually hungry, and I gratefully picked it up and started eating.
“Well, they are nearly a hundred years old,” Lucian said. “Maybe two. I can never remember. But they were turned as children. So they are small.”
“It hardly seems fair. Getting stuck at whatever age you are, I mean.”
“Yes. When some cosmic force thought up the rules to this whole feeding on the blood of humans in exchange for immortality, they must’ve forgotten a detail or two that would’ve made it all much more ‘fair.’”
“Well,” I said, looking for a way to cheer him up. Lucian always seemed to get gloomy and pessimistic when he talked about being a vampire. “I’ve seen more vampire movies and read more vampire books than I’d care to admit. People’s imaginations are a lot crueler to you guys than reality, apparently. Because in books vampires burst into flames the moment sunlight hits them. They usually have to kill the people they feed on, too. Or feeding turns people into vampires. The list of ways popular media has made being you guys shitty is endless, really.”
“What a comfort,” he said. “And every other vampire I’ve met does need to mortally fear the sun. But at least we can eat garlic.”
I bit back a smile. “You’re like a sexy vampire. It’s funny how they leave that part out of the movies. One sip of your blood and it’s like the world’s most ridiculous aphrodisiac.”
“Needing to feed on humans is also an inconvenience, if we’re keeping score. And younger vampires have to do it daily. Only my age and particular gifts let me go weeks between feedings.”
“Hm,” I said. “Tell me something… Is it weird being a million years old and wanting to sleep with someone my age? Doesn’t it make me seem like a child to you?”
“No,” he said. “I was only a few years older than you are now when I was turned. I think the real difference between the young and the old is the betrayal of the body. A human at seventy usually possesses an almost identical mind to a younger person. The difference is their failing body makes them weary.”
“That sounds exactly like something a super old, crusty geezer would say to get into the pants of a young human.” I grinned. Young. I had to admit a vain part of me liked this world where thirty wasn’t already the beginning of the end for being considered “young.” To these vampires, I was practically radiant with youth. I also enjoyed teasing a man who looked like the picture of someone in the prime of their life about his age.