Page 46 of Blood Submission

“Because they’re nothing but locusts that consume and destroy everything they touch, and think they’re above every other creature on this earth.”

“And you don’t?”

He turned his head to look at her. “No.”

She tilted her head, her tawny eyes inquisitive. “You said something earlier about how your friends treated you when they found out you’d been turned—”

He barked out a laugh. “How they treated me…You want to know how they treated me? Like a stranger. No, worse. Like a wild animal. They laid steel traps in the forest around our home. Traps made to catch a large animal, like a bear. I lost and re-grew two limbs before I figured out to watch for the tiniest glint of metal in the moonlight. If the moon wasn’t out, I had to take my chances. They searched for my grave during the day and hunted me with torches and wooden stakes at night. They treated me like I was nothing but a fucking monster.”

“And so you became one. You became the hunter rather than the hunted.”

She was intelligent, this one. Dante shifted uncomfortably. “Yes.”

“Not all vampires are like you, then?” She waved her hand in the air, indicating the apartments they’d just come from and where they werenow.

“The others are naïve, living out in the open among your kind. It’s going to bite them in the ass someday.” He truly believed that. When the humans discovered their kind living among them, they would rise up. They always did. They couldn’t stand anything that made them feel inferior. The war would be bloody, and due to their sheer numbers, it wouldn’t end until all supernatural creatures were forced into hiding once again if they were to have any hopes of their species surviving.

“How did you become a vampire?”

He didn’t respond at first, those memories banging—pounding now—on thedoor.

“Dante?”

Without meaning to, he began to speak, his voice monotone. “I was turned by a stranger that came to our camp just after dark one night. He claimed to be a necromancer, and he wanted some of us to join him, to fight whatever battle he was fighting. We refused his offer, but welcomed him into the fold to rest and eat because that was how my people were. I woke during the night and went out to piss. The stranger was still awake, roaming our camp, and I found him walking away from my wagon. I called out, and asked him what he was doing. When he saw me there, he came toward me, moving so fast I couldn’t follow. He just appeared next to me, like magic. He was angry that we had refused him. The tips of his fangs were showing, and he looked different. Larger. I asked him again what he was doing roaming around our camp while we slept. Was he stealing from us after we offered him food and shelter? He told me he was hungry, and then he jumped on me. I tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. The commotion woke some of the others….”

Papa? Papa!

Stay inside! No! Leave my son alone! Leave him alone!

Dante stared into the flame of the candle in front of him, lost in the horrors of his past. “He threw me to the side and got a hold of a child,” he rasped. “Myson.”

“What happened to him?” she whispered.

His voice dropped to match hers. “He tore him apart right in front of me, as I crawled through the wet grass, trying to get to them. To save him. But I was too late. Then he came to finish me off, only I had the misfortune of surviving.”

“And his mother?”

Blinking hard as he came back to the present, Dante couldn’t speak for a moment. He cleared his throat. “She was already gone. She died the winter before from an illness.”

“How old was yourson?”

“Nine.”

Laney was silent then, and Dante was glad. Still locked in the past, he rose to leave.

She jumped to her feet as well. “Where are you going?”

“I need togo.”

“Please don’t,” she said. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

There was something different in her expression as she looked up at him, something that pulled at his insides. MINE. The word pounded around his skull, chasing away the sadness of his past. “No more questions.”

“No more questions,” she agreed.

He waited for her to say something stupid, something like, “I’m so sorry for your loss,” as humans were inclined to do. But she didn’t. She just gave him a small, tired smile and went back over to lie down. A few seconds later, he followed her and blew out all but one candle before joining her on thebed.

“Are you not going to feed yourself?” she asked quietly once he was on his back besideher.

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