“Did you know that other supernatural beings loathe empaths and telepaths because of what we can do?”
I hadn’t known that, but I could understand it. Anyone who could see into your mind or heart was dangerous when your life was full of as many secrets as ours were.
“I won’t look at you differently, Rhys.”
I knew that wasn’t true. She might believe she was telling the truth, but knowing what I was would change her view of me. I liked the way she looked at me, the way she felt about me. I didn’t want to change it. But I had to. She should know.
“Have you ever heard of theanimavore?” I asked.
She appeared confused for a moment. “Creatures who consumed the souls of others? They’ve been extinct for millennia, if they ever existed at all. They’re part of the dark lore in our history.”
“They existed,” I stated. “But to my knowledge, I’m the only one left.”
Savannah’s reaction didn’t surprise me. Her eyes widened and her face paled. However, I was taken aback by her words. “I’m so sorry, Rhys.”
I expected her to recoil in disgust when she heard what I was, not express sympathy. “I’m a vampire, Savannah. A parasite. I feed off a person’s emotions. Their soul.”
Speculation entered her gaze. “Do you often kill the people you feed from?” she asked. Once again, she reminded me of the Goddess, but now it was because wisdom and power were evident in her eyes. She might be gentle and nurturing, but she was also capable of great feats and ferocity.
“No, I never kill.” I paused. That wasn’t entirely true. I had killed my brother, Cornelius. I’d had no other choice. For century after century, he hunted me and took everything he could from me until I realized that I had no other choice. If I didn’t stop him, he would kill me, then he would go on to hurt thousands, maybe even millions, of innocent people. Even now, the knowledge that I’d taken my brother’s life still weighed so heavily.
When we were younger, before Gaius purchased us at a slave market, Cornelius had been joyful and kind. Gaius’ attentions eventually hardened him and evil tainted his soul. When the experiments began, my brother was already a completely different person than the boy I’d grown up with. After Gaius succeeded in creating us, Cornelius was no longer human. Until the night I killed him, I’d often wondered if he even had a soul of his own left.
It wasn’t until I drained the life force from his body that I’d had my answer. Cornelius had a soul, but it was so dark and tortured that any shred of humanity within him was lost millennia ago.
“Then how do you feed?” she asked me, her voice gentle.
I stared blankly at her. “What do you mean?”
“You need a person’s soul to survive. That should be lethal. How do you feed without killing?”
“I don’t need their soul in its entirety. The human soul is made up of many things but it’s their emotions that I siphon. Sometimes at the deepest level.” She didn’t speak, merely met my gaze levelly, so I continued. “I choose victims who are in pain. Those who are hurting so badly that they’re irrevocably broken. I feed on their agony, their heartbreak.”
Savannah nodded. “What happens to them when you’re done?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Are they still in pain? Can they function?”
I stared at her, uncomprehending why this was important. “I remove part of their pain when I feed from them. It’s an unfortunate side effect.”
Her smile was small and sad. “Maybe, but maybe not. Did you ever stop to think that you might be helping these people by lessening their suffering?”
“That doesn’t matter,” I argued. “I’m stealing from them. Who we are is determined by what we experience in life. Pleasure, pain, joy, sorrow. Without the full range of human emotion, people never reach their potential.”
“That’s a good point,” Savannah agreed. “But you’re talking about people who are in despair. They aren’t suffering from a short-term pain that teaches them an important lesson. They’re battling demons with their bare hands, and they’re losing. By lessening their burden, you might be helping them.”
Her reasoning echoed my own justifications too closely to convince me. It was an empty reason. An excuse to make my actions seem less loathsome.
“Whether I’m helping them or hurting them doesn’t matter. I’m taking something that is not mine. Especially something so essential.”
She nodded. “I can understand why that concerns you. We’re taught not to steal and to treat others with kindness but—”
Before the conversation could continue further, the doorbell rang.
“There’s the pizza,” she said, tearing her gaze from mine and taking a step toward the living room.
I got to my feet and bent down to place Satchel on the floor. “I’ll get it.” As I walked out of the kitchen, I pulled my wallet out of my pocket.
