“Where are you from?” I asked, studying a carving of a duck or, perhaps, a pigeon. The crudeness made it hard to tell.
“What was once known as Hispaniola. When I left, it was Ayiti. You know it as Haiti. I was part of the gens de couleur—free men of color who helped emancipate my brothers in the Revolution. I almost did not survive the battle. Some would say I did not survive at all. The Daemoni found me near death after a particularly bloody fight and made me a vampire. So here I am.”
I looked up in surprise, not expecting to hear such personal information. Not that he shared his whole life story, but, at least in my books, being turned was usually not something vampires preferred to talk about.
“Enough about that. You are here to learn about my kind, not me specifically.”
“Everyone says the more knowledge I have about each of the creatures, the better I’ll understand the enemy.”
“Everyone is correct.”
“So you don’t mind this interview? Because I have all kinds of questions. Vampires have always fascinated me.” Heat rose in my cheeks with the admission. Would Solomon tease me like Tristan does?
Both understanding and a bit of arrogance flicked in Solomon’s eyes. “Of course not.”
He gestured toward the seating area, and I sat on the edge of a chair upholstered in red leather with bronze rivets outlining its contours. Solomon sat across from me, and admittedly, it made me feel more comfortable. Perhaps because I didn’t have to crane my neck up to see his intimidating face. Or perhaps because when he sat, he somehow seemed more human. Solomon flicked his hand, and the door slid closed.
“How do you do that?” I blurted. “I mean, you’re not a mage or have Amadis blood . . . right?”
“Before we start—I believe you have been instructed to practice your telepathy?”
I nodded.
“It will be easier and more effective if I simply share my thoughts.”
I inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, imagining my wall disintegrating into a screen again. I sensed Solomon’s signature immediately and latched onto his thoughts.
Um . . . hello? I asked, hesitating with the strangeness of looking right at him, but not talking to him aloud. It didn’t feel natural as it did with Tristan. But I expected nothing would ever feel natural with Solomon.
A small smile played on his lips. “Rina has said it is sometimes easier when she closes her eyes.”
I nodded, leaned back in my chair, and closed my eyes. A small part of me kept behind my shield couldn’t help but wonder if this was a trick. After all, vamps could quite easily convince their prey to relax, to turn their backs or shut their eyes so they couldn’t see the attack coming. Not able to help myself, I barely slit an eyelid open to peak at Solomon. He, too, sat back in his chair, his eyes closed. This is Rina’s mate; he won’t hurt me. I closed my eyes again and opened my mind to him.
Visions appeared in my head of vampires buying blood by the glass, bottle, or box, as if it were wine. Solomon explained how Amadis vampires didn’t drink directly from the source. Mages provided vamps their life-force by donating blood, and vampires absorbed many of their magical powers. The older they were and the longer they fed on mage blood, the more powers they gained and kept.
So that’s how you can flash or close the door without touching it? I asked.
“Yes. Almost all Amadis vamps receive such basic powers.”
Are Daemoni vamps the same?
“Not exactly. They prefer to drink from the source, not only because it is fresher, but more for the thrill of the bite and the drain.” Disgust filled Solomon’s silent voice. “They prefer the sweeter, unadulterated blood of Normans.”
So they’re not as powerful?
He explained that because their souls had not been saved, their demonic powers were naturally stronger than Amadis vampires. When they had seen the Amadis vamps’ new powers, however, they tried taking blood from the mages. Their lack of self-control killed many, and they could not afford to lose any others.
“Occasionally they feed from the mages, but only in controlled situations and only when necessary, such as when they are preparing for battle,” Solomon continued. “They do not need any more powers than what they already have to serve their primary purpose: preying on Normans.”
Do they always kill?
“Not always. But often. The fresher the blood—and the more human it is—the more difficult it is to not drain the source completely. The Daemoni are not known for self-control, and vampires are worse than the rest. Sometimes, they are able to prevent a total draining so they may create a new child.”
Before I could ask how new vampires were made, Solomon’s thoughts came to me visually. A vampire nearly—but not completely, he emphasized—drained a human and then replaced the human’s blood with his own. The vamp’s blood healed the body and infused it with Daemoni magic, bringing the victim back to near-life. Because the master could only replace a small part of the body’s blood without draining himself, the newborn came into its new life starving to the point of madness.
“Once they taste their first victim, the bloodlust becomes deeply ingrained. After time passes—for some, a few months, for others, several years—they need blood less often and begin to behave more civilized. Until then, they are wild animals with no fear, no control, and only one thing on their minds. Their sires are supposed to parent them, but not all vampires, like humans, are very good parents.”
Have you . . .? I couldn’t finish the thought, not wanting to imagine Solomon as Daemoni at all. He understood the question, though.
“I have no children. I had no desire to bestow this terrible lifestyle on another being. I was turned against my will. It astounds me anyone would purposefully want this.”
Are there many who do?
“More than you would think. Many Normans believe vampirism provides the solutions to their problems, not realizing all it entails. If they choose to be turned, their soul is more easily lost to us—we usually cannot save them. However, if they are turned against their will . . . if they really do not want to exist as a monster . . .”
They keep their souls, and we can help them.
“Correct.”
Are there many turnings these days?
“At this very moment, no. But the Daemoni plan to build their army. They will take dying soldiers, as usual, but with the recent infatuation with vampires, they will likely find many who are willing. More Normans will be reported missing, never to be heard from again, their bodies never found.”
I gasped. My eyes flew open, and I jumped to my feet.
“Solomon!” I nearly shouted, forgetting the telepathy.
He was on his feet so fast, I never saw the movement. His body tensed, and his eyes surveyed the area with alarm. “What?”
“My books! They helped create that infatuation. And now people will be turned because they want to be vampires. What have I done? What was everyone thinking?”
Solomon was suddenly sitting again, lounging in the chair. He waved his hand dismissively. “Relax, Alexis. You know the reason for your books—to create more awareness of evil so Normans will better prepare themselves. And they will. Those who want to be turned would want to anyway. You have done more good than harm.”