He folded his arms. “Most men didn’t live past fifty in the time I was born. I’ve seen children die from cholera or plagues. Women died in childbirth, men died in war or from simple infections. Tuberculosis took many. Of all the Breeds, Vampires are the apex predators. That’s appealing when you see how abbreviated some lives are. Most Vampires will tell you that they never had the choice”—he lifted his chin—“but I did.”
“How old were you when you were made?”
“Twenty-four, thereabouts. Come.” He held out his hand and led me back to the library.
The fire had significantly warmed the room, and when I sat down on the sofa, Atticus covered my legs with a white throw.
I propped a pillow at the end of the sofa and turned to the side. “I hope you don’t mind if I put my feet up. My back is killingme, and it’s hard to find a comfortable position. Tell me more about your human life. Do you remember any of it?”
Atticus sat by my feet and faced me with one arm over the back of the sofa. “My mother was a prostitute, but she didn’t do it to feed her family. I happened to be a side effect of her career choice. You have to understand that three thousand years ago, women didn’t have many options unless they were fortunate enough to have a spouse with land, livestock, or a trade. I don’t fault her for that, but she got sick as a result and died before I was fourteen.”
“How awful.”
“When she died, I found a job working for a wealthy trader who needed a runner—someone to deliver messages across great distances. They preferred young orphans with boundless energy and loyalty. He was exceedingly powerful for the time because he sold bronze weapons, helmets, and battle gear. Metal was valuable in those times and used as currency.”
“Where was this?”
“Not all countries were established, but it was in the region of Austria.”
“Was this man a Vampire?”
Atticus laughed, and when he did, his eyes curved like crescent moons. “No. He was just an oaf with an attractive daughter. He also had six sons, but two died of influenza while I lived there. Another one died in battle. They lived in a fortified settlement, but there were many conquerors in those times.”
I imagined Atticus as a young boy and wondered how on earth he could have survived without family. “Did you marry the daughter?”
He slowly shook his head. “Matilda was betrothed to a warrior’s son when she was only nine. They were waiting for her to come of age. Wealth had a different meaning in those times. Peasants labored just to survive. People died of disease or raidson their villages. Her father thought that building an alliance with a great leader would mean protection for his family. Warriors were the aristocracy.”
“Poor girl, but I guess people did what they needed to in order to survive.”
“The boy she was promised to died, but I can’t recall how. I haven’t told this story in a long time.” He rubbed his temple as if the memories pained him. “I was a young man who thought he was in love, and I made stupid choices—ones only the son of a prostitute could.”
“At fourteen?”
He adamantly shook his head. “This happened when I was twenty. She was eighteen. I think. It was so long ago that I can’t even recall her face anymore. Only the sound of her silly laugh.” He scratched his nape while still lost in his reverie. “We thought we were in love, but we were young. She was with child when we left her family home.”
I gasped softly. “You have descendants?”
“I think maybe it’s getting late,” he finally said. “You should go to sleep.”
“Please don’t do that.”
He frowned at me. “Do what?”
“Treat me as a child. I want to hear your story.”
And I truly did. I had always assumed that those who chose to be Vampires were power hungry with no character. Perhaps his story would shed light on what led him to make that decision.
He locked eyes with me and held my gaze. “Her father would have killed me if he had learned of her condition. That’s not an exaggeration. One night we fled. We walked for days until we found an unfortified settlement. They had a tavern for villagers and travelers, and the owner offered us a small room big enough to stretch out on the floor. We slept on hay, as I recall.”
“How did you pay him? Or did people just let you stay for free?”
“Bartering was currency. I paid him with a bronze trinket we stole from Matilda’s father. We didn’t know where we wanted to settle since traveling was dangerous, so Matilda served ale in his establishment. In return, he fed us. She told me some of the customers were rough. One traveler in particular was slighted when she refused his lascivious offer of sex in exchange for silver coins. At that time, I was working for a herder, hoping to learn his trade and maybe earn myself a sheep or two. Without a horse, it took hours to get back to the inn, especially during the rainy weeks.” He shook his head. “All that mud.”
“She was there by herself? How dreadful.” The reality of it sent a chill down my spine.
“I thought about sending her back home,” he admitted. “But I was selfish and wanted to take care of my family even if I didn’t have the means. The baby would have had a better life had she gone back.”
“Are you certain of that? I once met an ancient who told me unwanted babies were sold as servants or slaves. Some were thrown to the wolves to avoid scandal.”
