Page 119 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

“And no one else is aware of this apart from Sybil? Haven’t Logan or Viktor at least questioned your origins?”

“They have, and I lied.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That I was sired by an Upyr.”

She snaps her eyes to mine. “What the hell is an Upyr?”

“What I’m about to reveal will be far more terrifying than anything I’ve said so far,” I warn.

“I’m not sure I want to know,” she whispers. Still, she holds my gaze and nods.

“An Upyr is a creature more beast than human. It has a humanoid form, but is ruled by instinct and bloodlust alone. Some believe it’s a fallen angel, others believe it’s a demon put on this earth by the Devil. I have only ever come across it once in my three-hundred years, and I never wish to again. After that encounter, Sybil suggested we build our clan for our own safety. Sybil took it upon herself to do just that. When Logan was turned he sired more vampires too.”

“This is… Unbelievable.” She shudders, hugging herself.

“The world, you know, isn’t all as it seems.”

“You said you’ve only come across this creature once. What happened?”

“It was the year of 1826, almost a hundred years after I was cursed. Sybil and I came across a derelict castle in the highlands of Scotland where we were living at the time, drawn inside by the scent of human blood. We didn’t realise it was being used as a lair. We found a woman bleeding out from a gaping wound in her stomach. She was on the verge of death, and assuming she had somehow injured herself and sought shelter, we fed off her. When the Upyr returned, it attacked us. It was incredibly strong, and we were both horrifically injured. But the moment it tasted Sybil’s blood, it retreated.”

“It let you go?”

“Yes. To this day, I still don’t know why it didn’t kill us.”

“How many are there?”

“I cannot say for sure. I’ve only ever come across one, but since that encounter I've heard stories, whispers passed down through generations describing glimpses of this creature, of others like it. As the world changed, sightings faded. I haven’t heard of any more sightings in over a century. That doesn’t mean they’re gone, only that they’ve learned to hide better.”

“This is worse than anything I could’ve imagined,” she whispers, her teeth chattering as she clings to herself even more tightly.

I ache to gather her into my arms and shield her from the truth, but all I manage is a silent nod. It takes a few minutes, but she steadies herself and her questions return.

“You said earlier that you changed Logan and Viktor out of empathy. What happened to them?”

“I turned Logan twenty years after I was cursed to this life. Sybil and I were at a public house in Oxford. A fight broke out between a married couple. The husband was brutally beating his wife. Logan was a priest back then, he tried to intervene but was fatally wounded. I cleared the public house, glamouring everyone. He died, and I fed him my blood. I could’ve left him to his fate, but his humanity, his bravery, his fucking kindness triggered something in me. So, I turned him.”

“And Viktor?”

“He was a doctor. Another good man. He originated from Switzerland, born to a wealthy family. In 1815, when he was twenty-eight, he travelled to England to pursue his career in medicine. Viktor worked for a charitable hospital attached to a church in a village just outside London for several years after he arrived in England. Then there was a cholera outbreak in 1831. Viktor fought to save many lives during that time. I met him by accident one evening. I was pursuing someone⁠—”

“To feed?” she whispers.

“Yes.” I nod. “He caught me leaning over them. He assumed I was trying to help. I didn’t realise the person I was hunting had already succumbed to the early stages of the disease. He asked me to bring them to his practice. I did. We struck up a friendship, but a few months later he caught the disease. When he took his final breath, I turned him too.”

Edie looks thoughtful for a moment, her brow furrowing. “Viktor told me he doesn’t feed from humans.”

“He wasn’t lying. He never has. In the early days after he changed, he survived on animal blood. When blood banks were invented, we made one of our own. He has never fed from a human, and he never will. His humanity, his goodness, prevents him.”

“And Logan?”

“He accepted what he was. He drinks from humans.”

She nods thoughtfully. “And yet, he hasn’t harmed Henrietta.”

“No, he hasn’t. I guess that makes him a better man than me.”