Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Charles never told me why he refused to give up looking, but I suspected he wanted answers. Why had he been left alone to fend for himself? Or, perhaps, he simply wanted to find others of his kind and learn what he could.
I do not know how I survived during those eighteen years, but I saw the most amazing places—pyramids, mountains, oceans the color of jewels. I met people who, at the time, seemed like they were from another world. Some primitive and some so advanced I could hardly believe my eyes. They wrote on paper, carved enormous statues, farmed more food than they could eat, and had indoor plumbing—a marvel in those days. The world was wild and savage, and humans were determined to tame it.
And then, one day, Charles finally gave up. After three hundred years, his maker’s trail had dried up, and Charles concluded his maker was dead. Any vampires we came across wanted nothing to do with Charles. They were also very suspicious and untrusting in those days.
So we returned to Charles’s home, just south of what was now London. The irony was that less than a month after arriving, it finally happened.
Charles would often have me walk alone on the roads at night, wearing fine clothing to lure thieves into a wooded area where he would take them. On this night, I lured a vampire looking for an easy meal.
Charles ripped the creature off me and then froze. I’d never seen him so happy. “Bartoli? I have been looking for you everywhere.”
The vampire, who was tall with blond hair, seemed stunned at first. And then without warning, he killed Charles. Just like that. Bartoli had not wished to be found.
As for me, I quickly learned that Bartoli had not abandoned Charles for any rational reason. He merely enjoyed taking lives and toying with people. Sometimes he would torment his victims for days on end, appearing in their rooms, telling them he was the devil coming to take their souls. He enjoyed driving them mad first.
And sometimes, he turned his victims for the pleasure of watching from afar as they woke up, completely horrified and confused. Many died the next day, completely unaware they were vampires and could not go into the sun.
As for me, Bartoli took my life that night and turned me, but what he had not anticipated was my fury and knowledge. I had spent nearly two decades as Charles’s whipping boy. I lured his meals, I washed his clothes and dressed him, I listened to his stories, and I watched quietly. I learned his tricks. I knew everything there was to know about vampires, so when Bartoli turned me, I was not afraid or lost. I did not fumble into the daylight.
I was angry.
He could have simply left me alone to live my life as a free man after Charles’s death. But no.
So I tracked Bartoli for months, patiently waiting. And then one night, I killed him while he fed.
MASIE
Dear baby Jesus. What a grim story. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear any more. It sounded like Stark had been through hell.
“Masie,” said Stark, “I only tell you all this because it proves a point. I thrived as a vampire because I had someone to teach me. You will have the same. You will have me.”
What difference would that make? You just don’t get it, Stark. I wanted to get married, have children, and grow old with my soul mate. I wanted to leave out cookies on Christmas Eve and see my kids’ faces the next morning as they opened presents. I wanted to teach them to ride a bike and fish and read and dance the two-step. Now, all that’s gone.
I got to choose between living forever—and watching everyone else make families and memories—or dying.
Stark continued, “You do not have to be with me if you do not wish it, Masie. Your maker is dead, and you have your father to lean on as you adjust—he is a very, very capable man, by the way. I have missed him since he moved in with your mother.”
And I bet Daddy missed Stark a little, too. Mamma could be a lot to handle, even if Daddy loved her more than anything.
Stark added, “I only ask that you consider the benefits of learning from someone who cares for you deeply and knows more than most vampires. I would protect you. I would love you.” He paused. “I do love you.”
His pitch tugged at my heartstrings. The truth was, though, that he and I hadn’t started out on the best of terms. He’d put me through hell during those first few weeks. Being stalked by a vampire wasn’t the sort of thing any girl enjoyed. Then I was taken, tortured by his brother, freed, and then framed for murder. I went to prison for almost one year!