Page 144 of The Last Vampire
“Yes,” says William, but even he can hear the way his voice catches. It is obvious he is lying.
“Lenny knew as soon as he tasted you,” says Nate. “Yet he wanted to learn what you were hiding, so he let you go. Idefendedyou. I said you were young and inexperienced and probably just needed time, but he told me I was a fool. He was certain you would go see Fabiana—and he was right.”
Nate moves in so close that their noses are nearly brushing. “Just as he was right about your true name… WilliamStoker.”
The name hits William like an anvil across the face, and he is glad that Lorena cannot see him. It seems to echo through his insides like a bullet ricocheting in a metal chamber. The destiny he can never escape.
His crown and his curse.
He feels Lorena step away from him, and he looks at her.
“Stoker,” she says, but it sounds more like a snarl. He cannot tell if it is a question or a condemnation.
“Lore, please—”
William’s voice cuts out as Tiffany crumples to the floor, and Cisco strikes.
The brawny vampire takes advantage of the space between William and Lorena to sweep her off her feet, trapping her head in the crook of his elbow.
A roar-like cry escapes William’s lips as he leaps at Cisco, but Nate intercepts him, striking William on the side and sending him careening into a bookshelf.
The vampire regains his balance before crashing into the furniture, just as Lenny did when William sent him sailing toward the oak barrels.
Nate and Cisco stare at William, surprised by the power of his reflexes. He may not like to fight, but he has always been well suited for it. Grandsire used to say that since they carry magic in their blood, Stokers are often born into bodies strong enough to protect themselves. He made William and his cousins start training in sword- and hand-to-hand combat before they turned seven.
“Come closer, and she’s dead,” Cisco warns when he sees William eyeing him and Lorena like he is strategizing.
Taking on both vampires will be a significant drain on William’s energy. He has not had blood in days. Should they manage to cut him up badly enough that he takes too long to heal and loses too much blood, he could fall into a death-sleep.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks Nate.
Salma holds a shaking and sobbing Tiffany in her arms, and Nate moves between William and the others. As if demanding the Stoker’s full attention.
“We need you.”
Nate’s voice comes out a dozen decibels lower than usual—beyond human hearing.
“This is not the way to gain my trust,” William answers him in that same low register.
“You really don’t understand what it’s been like.” The ponytailed vampire’s eyes are no longer narrowed in suspicion, nor is his expression a stoic mask to guard his true face. He sounds sincere.
“Back in our day, we lived by the Treaty not because we respected or feared the humans—we did it so our food source would not run out. Some of us could control our appetites, while others could not, which is why this framework was important for our species’ survival. But in the process of coexisting, many of us developed a fondness for the mortals, the same way humans care for their animal pets. Through this, we even learned something from them: Being part of something was better than being alone.”
William nods. “I know all this.”
“But you don’t know what it’s like now, when we’ve been forced to become less than shadows—we’reghosts. We have no presence, no community, no hope. Once,timecould not touch us; yet now it is all we have. Our faith thatin time, we will have our power back. Either the spell will end and our forebears will return… or a Stoker will come along and lead us out of the dark.”
This whole time, William could not allow himself to think of what it meant that he is a Stoker. If the weight of the name was hefty in his day, its burden is intolerable now.
“That is all I am asking for,” says William. “More time.”
He is not sure how that will change anything, but right now he cannot step into that role. He is not ready.
Yet he realizes that was the wrong thing to say as soon as Nate takes a step back.
“Don’t worry,” says the ponytailed vampire, raising his voice back to a normal volume, his vulnerability retreating into his mask. “I’ve come up with a solution that will keep us all happy.”
He looks at Cisco, and William follows his gaze to Lorena, whose eyes are squeezed shut like she is struggling to breathe. William can feel how close to death she is because his own heart feels like it is being burned at the stake.
