“Colin, Nathaniel, Xavier, and Silas hired a guide to take them north by land. I assume they are somewhere in Europe now, but we lost contact soon after. Gabriel, Tobias, Alexander, and I traveled along the coast of Europe for a time. We boarded a merchant ship from the Isle of Wight to the port of Philadelphia in the autumn of 1699. An indigenous guide helped us settle in this new world. I ended up in New York; Tobias, Chicago; and Gabriel, New Orleans. Alexander, well, he’s in Sedona now.”
Nick shook his head. “So you came here with seven brothers, and you never see them in person. Never hug them. Never share turkey and mashed potatoes and stories around the Christmas tree, ever?”
“I haven’t seen my younger brothers or Gabriel in centuries. I met with Tobias once or twice when he was visiting the city at the turn of the century and in the 1970s. We were careful not to stay together long. And Alexander sends me his paintings to sell in the gallery.”
“All this because you’re afraid your uncle will find you if you are together?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you think that after three hundred years, he has better things to do?”
She stared at her knotted fingers. “It’s hard to explain how time changes us, Nick. My siblings and I have endured wars, the advancement of technology, new identities, the rise of cities, the fall of empires. We’ve endured this intimately but also at a distance, our hearts breaking from loss after loss while remaining immortal. We are like stones in a sea of human history. Time and distance have a way of becoming their own beast. Every year, our bond lessened. Our ways of communicating ended. We lost touch with each other.”
“Forgive me for saying so, Rowan, but that is the saddest story I’ve ever heard. Maybe sadder than having no family at all.”
“Do you share turkey with Doug and Judy?”
He smiled. “As often as possible. They live in Arizona now. Both retired. I only get out there once or twice a year.”
She sighed. “I wouldn’t relive my childhood for anything, but it would be nice to have a real family. I run Sunrise House and am trying to save it because I know the feeling of having no control over your lot in life. I try my best to make things better for those kids.”
He played with his fork. “That’s an incredible story. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“I’d like to share more with you. I want to know everything about you.”
He swallowed. This was getting to be too much, too intimate. All his old insecurities scurried to the surface. If he let her in, he’d be vulnerable. It would destroy him if she left him. She couldn’t abandon something that never existed. Casual was safe. Intimacy was war. “First, I need you to teach me how to kill vampires.”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “Vampire lessons. You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
“No,” he said. “I need to be able to protect myself.”
She licked her bottom lip. “The first thing you should know about vampires is that ordinary bullets won’t do a thing against them. That gun of yours is useless under most circumstances. You can’t stab them to death either, and they can’t die of hanging or drowning. They don’t even need to breathe.”
He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair, studying her.
“Crosses don’t work either,” she said.
“What does work?”
“Sunlight, always. That folklore is true.”
He thanked God. At least he’d given Regine good advice. “Safe during the day. That’s good.”
“Safe from vampires, but they can compel humans to do their will.”
“I can handle humans.”
She played with the corner of her napkin, twisting it around her finger. “Silver works, but it’s not like in the movies. If you hold something silver against a vampire’s skin, it won’t do much damage. But if you can trick a vampire into drinking silver or shoot them with silver bullets, it will weaken them. The silver has to be in the bloodstream to do its job. You can sometimes kill a vampire with a silver or wooden bullet directly to the heart or brain. It slows their ability to heal and can kill them if you do enough damage and the vamp is unable to remove it.”
He nodded. “Silver and wood, but they aren’t reliable. Got it.”
She chewed her lip. “There are only two foolproof ways I know of to kill a vampire that don’t involve tossing them into the sun: cut out their heart or decapitate them. That goes for all supernaturals. In general, nothing can live without a head or a heart. Even dragons.” She rubbed her palms in circles against each other. “Oh, it’s also possible to burn vampires to death. That’s my preferred choice as a dragon. Everything burns if the fire is hot enough. Everything other than us.”
“You’re completely fireproof?”
She turned and placed her hand in the candle’s flame. It didn’t seem to bother her at all. The hair on the back of her hand didn’t singe. There was no smell, no blistering or blackening of her skin. “Which brings me to the most important thing about vampires.”
“What’s that?”
