“I’m sure you’ll find other things to entertain you, Boz.”
Yes. Her name is Stella. “And what else may I expect to find at this marketplace?” Perhaps I will buy my sweet little human a trinket. Or a monkey. Or a monkey wearing a trinket.
“The marketplace is called a mall. They have a little of everything, but mostly people go to buy clothes—they have about twenty or thirty shops to choose from.”
“So many tailors in one location?” How extravagant.
“The clothes are already made. You just buy them and take them home to enjoy.”
“Well,” I grumble, “I will insist on trying them on before I make my purchases, as I doubt the tailors of this time are accustomed to dressing a man of my spectacular physique.”
Neli mumbles something about a bloated egomaniac—one of the other drivers must have offended her in some way.
The Beemer comes to a halt next to several other Beemers in a large open stable of sorts. I look around, searching for the stalls and tents of the merchants displaying their wares, but all I see is a large beige structure that reminds me of a box.
“Where is the marketplace?” I ask impatiently. She knows time is of the essence. Tonight I shall see my Stella and take one final sip of her delicious virgin blood before her deflowering. Ah, the delights of seducing a maiden.
“Everything is indoors, inside that building.” She points to the structure. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pick an outfit for you? It’s a little bright in there with all the lights.”
“Nonsense. I am even more attractive by candlelight.”
“It’s not candlelight, Boz. It’s artificial light, like we have inside the house, but brighter, like a thousand mini suns.”
I stare at her in horror. “Do you have a death wish?” She knows my well-being is tied to hers, and artificial or not, so much light cannot be healthy.
“It won’t kill you. I’ve seen other vampires here before, but they protect themselves.”
“If I had known, I would have worn my hooded cape. You have been remiss in your duties.”
“I couldn’t let you wear a cape. Those aren’t in style any longer either.”
Sacrilege! What is wrong with these modern humans?
Neli reaches into her large leather bag and hands me an odd-looking black hat with a long brim only in front.
I study it from different angles and stare at a strange orange symbol. An incantation of sorts? I toss it back to her. “Is this witchcraft?”
She puts it on her head. “It’s an S and an F together for the San Francisco Giants.”
I take it from her and put it on since she was not instantly burned by its magic. “I thought giants were a myth. Do the people wear their symbol to ward them off? Are the giants fond of the mall?”
“It’s a baseball team. A game of sport the locals enjoy.” She hands me a pair of black glasses. “Put these on too. It’ll help with the light.”
“And do they fight to the death in this baseball?” Perhaps I will join in this game. Nothing better than a fresh kill.
“No. Can you please put on the shades?”
How clever. Shade for the eyes. I slide them on. “But how will the shopkeepers admire my striking black eyes? How am I to hypnotize them into giving me the best price?”
She blows out a breath, muttering, “Patience.”
Another overly long breath from Neli. I simply cannot have a sick servant waiting on me hand and foot. She will be much too slow. “If you insist on not calling the leecher—”
“I’m not sick!”
“Then you must need more fresh air. I insist you take a long walk outdoors on your annual day off.” When I was first gifted Neli, I was not the generous master you see today. There was no such thing as a day off. If a slave wished to eat, they worked. If they wished to live, they obeyed. Of course, Neli was an obstinate, disrespectful, wild beast of a girl when her family gave her to me. They were tenants on my land, farming various grains and squashes. One year, there was a drought and they could not pay their rent, so they offered Cornelia.
“Do you mean to tell me,” I said to her mother, “that is not a large rat?” She was covered from head to toe in mud. I could not even tell she had red hair underneath it all.
“Her name is Cornelia.” Her mother pushed her through the back door of my castle. “She is a good girl. Hard worker.”
Who were we kidding? The locals knew what I was. This child could not have been more than ten summers, and she was not being offered up as a servant.
“I am sorry,” I had told her mother. I pushed the dirty runt back outside, using the tip of my finger to avoid getting grime on myself. “I do not require additional labor.” I dropped my voice. “She is too young.” In other words, I did not drink children. Even evil vampires must have limits.
“Well,” her mother pushed her back inside and said, “I have nothing else to pay you with—no other children, no cattle, no money—so take it or leave it.”
My patience grew thin. I was in the middle of my painting lesson. “The answer is no. I will not accept her as payment. You have one day to return with gold, or you must vacate your land.”
I reached for the runt, but this time she ducked, stepped to the side, and kicked me in the shin. “Ugly bastard!”
I looked down at her and raised my hand, intent on giving her a smack on top of her mud-caked head as a warning, but then our eyes met. She did not shrink away from me. She did not show fear. Just…defiance and fire. With a delicious evil streak. Mmm…
“Well, I suppose I could let her work in the kitchen.” She would not be a child forever and could make for a nice snack in a decade or so. “Off you go, now. Find Alina in the kitchen. Tell her she is to bathe you, feed you, and find you a clean dress.”
Cornelia stuck out her tongue and ran off.
When I turned to her mother to bid farewell, I will never forget the joyous gleam in her eyes.
Oh, I see. Offer the unruly child to the local vampire. In that moment, I realized why I, too, had been offered to my master as a boy. I was the runt. I was the wild, disobedient, unwanted child.
They sent me to my death. At the time I received Neli, I had been a vampire for centuries, yet I had never realized this. I believed I’d been offered as a servant, and never considered I was intended to be a meal. My master, the Great Kylgorii Gillmoreanu, took pity on me. He did not believe in eating children, a rule I learned from him. Later, once I reached my early twenties, he would find me invaluable and turn me.
In any case, the rage I felt in that moment, while staring at Cornelia’s cruel mother, would lead me to a dark place that night. I never did tell Neli how her parents perished, or that they sent her to her death, but from that day forward, I felt protective of her. Perhaps because I saw her as a version of myself. Left behind by those who were supposed to care for her. When she came of age, I never even considered eating her as a snack. She was smart, feisty, and as close to family as a vampire like myself would ever get.
Then, on her twenty-third birthday, she asked me to change her, but I did not wish to curse her to a life in the darkness. There was, however, something appealing about the notion of never having to be alone again. A platonic forever companion. So I told Neli that I would give her my blood, and I would take hers. If she wanted to turn, she would have to do it herself by taking her own life. Until then, she would remain human, bound to me, ageless.