“Was he a special doctor?” Sam asked.
I shook my head. “No. As promised he saved the man, and much to the shock of the townsfolk, he walked out of there, perfect. No injury, no scars.”
“Whoa!”
I chuckled. “That was four hundred and fifty years ago. That man’s name was Henry Engles.”
“Hold up, this is a true story?”
“It is, Sam. Henry is still alive today, actually.”
Sam stared at me, blinked, and burst out laughing. “Oh, my God! You had me going there for a sec. What was next? Henry became a demon, snatched babies from their beds and ate them?”
It figured that was where Sam’s mind would go.
“No baby snatching, but he was certainly different, and no longer human. He drank blood for sustenance. While he could endure other things, nutrient-wise, blood was it for him.”
“So Henry was a vampire?” Sam tilted his head.
“Exactly. The stranger was his sire and saved his life. Gave him forever. Henry saw the world over and over again. Frozen in time, and that was the problem. Henry had to grow old and die, or others would notice. So every twenty years he moved, changed his name or identity, altered his lifestyle. And no one was the wiser.”
“That’s rough…I’m not sure why you’re telling me some scary story, though.”
“Through the years, Henry traveled all over, as I said. Discovered new places, watched the world change. He tried things other than blood. Tea, coffee, alcohol—those were fine and the caffeine did give him a boost. Solid food presented a problem. He’d cramp, have pain, so he forwent anything like that. Then one day in 1671, there was a huge thing about King Charles II serving a frozen dessert so decadent and delicious only the best in the world were there to enjoy it.”
Sam didn’t loosen his grip, but his brows went up to his hairline.
“The man kept hearing about it, so he tracked down where to get it and finally a year later sat under a tree and ate his first spoonful of vanilla ice cream.”
“Ice cream,” Sam whispered.
“Mmhmm. That was it for him. It was the one thing above all else that made his taste buds come alive and didn’t hurt him. The joy in his life was everything. After that, no matter where he lived he found an ice cream seller and indulged.”
“So this Henry, you like his story because you love ice cream?” Sam laughed nervously.
“Sam.” I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed his palm. “I was born Henry Engles in 1545 to Margaret and Thomas Engles.”
“You…” Sam’s face morphed into one of confusion, worry, and panic. “Lukas, do you think you’re a vampire?”
He thought I was crazy. “I am a vampire, Sam.”
He pulled his hand from mine. “Lukas, no, you’re not. Are you…” He looked around the room. “Are there meds you’re supposed to take? I can ask Winston to get you some.”
“I’m not sick, Sam. I’m not lying to you.”
Sam pursed his lips and waggled his finger at me. “See, I know you’re wrong. Vampires only come out at night, are pale as paper, allergic to garlic, and holy water and, and…crosses.” He pointed to a crucifix that was hanging in my living room.
“All folklore, Sam. When you turn, you’re frozen. Ailments and injuries healed, and you morph into the healthiest version of yourself. Sunlight, garlic, stakes in the heart. All bedtime stories.”
“Oh, Lukas, you need a doctor.”
“Sam, I’m not sick, and if you give me just five more minutes I’ll prove it to you…please.”
He worried his lip, but a few seconds later he nodded.
“Thank you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
