Zack was suddenly too aware of his new fangs and the thirst drying out his throat. Despite the stone nature of the artwork, he was straining to hear a heartbeat. But there wasn’t one; even their driver was a vampire.I’m getting blood-horny because of freaking statues. Greaaaaaat.
Seamus smirked. “Don’t worry. I had a few meals brought for you tonight. You won’t go hungry.”
“I’m not killing anyone else,” Zack said. “You can’t make me.”
“I didn’t make you kill the last one.”
“You turned me into this!” Zack gestured at himself and glared at Seamus.
The limo came to a stop underneath the central entrance’s overhang. Seamus leaned toward Zack and lowered his voice. “I gave you a choice, and you took full advantage of it.”
“Because—”
“Because you were on death’s door,” Seamus said. “If you don’t like the deal, then walk out into the dawn. But before you consider that, I would like to know one thing, Zackery. What, in your entire existence, have you chosenfor yourself?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Zack snapped. “I’ve made plenty of choices.”
“In the pursuit of others’ approval. First your family’s, then Roger’s, then Nell’s.” Seamus leaned in farther, and the world seemed to narrow to his blue and red mottled eyes. A bubble of some desire touched the edge of Zack’s mind, but Seamus didn’t push it into him. As they remained locked in their staring contest, Seamus continued. “You drank from me, and you knew exactly what you would become. I felt the way you drew my power into you. You were eager for it.You wanted it.”
The last words were a whisper that Zack wanted to deny, but those final moments of his mortal life flickered into view.
And Seamus wasn’t wrong.
But he couldn’t be right. Zack blinked, bloody tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “I didn’t want to die. That’s all.”
“The longer you lie to yourself, the longer you hurt yourself,” Seamus said sadly. “There is no shame in what we are. You can cast aside that pain, son. You have the power to become whatever you want.”
“Not an eighty-year-old grandfather,” Zack replied. “I can’t becomethat.”
“Not in the mortal fashion you’re talking about, but why have such a limited idea of how to create an experience? A life?” Seamus licked his thumb and then brushed away a piece of dirt stuck to Zack’s cheek. “Explore your potential, and you’ll discover a world full of depth and wonder that you’ve never dreamed of.”
By that point, the limo driver had gotten out and opened the door. Seamus stepped out into the night, shoulders back, head held high.
Talking to an archvillain wasn’t supposed to make Zack want to be like him. He hated Seamus. Hated everything he’d ever done. Ever. Well, except for turning Roger into a vampire. But he hadn’t given Roger a choice, and he hadn’t given Zack a real one either. Death or vampirism? No one was going to pick death.
But you didn’t even hesitate, little bro, the Cal voice said.
Shut the fuck up.
You’ve been reading those fucking books and fantasizing about this night for fuckingyears.You’ve always wanted to be this. Monster.
Zack ground his teeth, and his fangs pricked his gums. He forced himself to climb out of the limo as his mental war continued.I didn’t have a choice. I was dying.
A few thousand more times, and maybe you’ll believe it.
I do.
Some part of you clearly doesn’t.
The double doors to the mansion swung open and revealed a grand foyer. White veins stretched across the deep red marble floor and matched the color of the walls. A sweeping, elegant double staircase curved on either side of the hall up to the second floor. Since the ceiling went all the way up to that floor, a few of the paintings took advantage of the huge space. They depicted a wide array of scenes: a snowy landscape, a busy street, an artistic rendition of a vampire orgy. The overwhelming scent of roses greeted Zack, and there were a half dozen vases on the ground floor alone. They were in shades of soft yellow, subtly blending in with the décor.
A tall, spindly man stood to the left of the foyer’s center. His white skin was the shade of bleached paper, lending him an unreal quality. Everything about him fell into that samecategory. His limbs were too thin to have any substantial musculature. He was eight feet tall. His hair was black and gray, though one streak of gray seemed to be changing to a stark white right before Zack’s eyes. The strangest part was his smile, which seemed to literally stretch from ear to ear.
Zack made the mistake of meeting his gaze.
The shade of the man’s eyes was somewhere between a howling abyss waiting to devour the entire planet and the darkness that came from closing one’s eyes and praying that the monster under the bed was just a series of sounds one hadn’t figured out yet.
Fuck this guy. I just crawled out of my own grave. Zack squared his shoulders.
