Page 108 of The Last Vampire
She frowns with displeasure. “Are you asking because I’m a woman?”
“No—I am asking how could anyoneof us supportallof us?”
The hint of a smile plays on her lips. “I have always loved games and numbers, so I’ve been investing in the stock market for over a century. By now, I have quietly accumulated enough wealth to support this entirecountry.”
She refills her own glass while he stares at her in speechless admiration. “Now tell me something about you,” she says, bringing the wine to her lips. “You look like you were turned quite young.”
“Nineteen,” he says, and her brow rises in surprise.
“Why so soon?”
“I never knew,” he says.
“Why did you go into death-sleep?”
“The last thing I remember was living among London society, going to the opera, attending balls—I have no recollection of even going to sleep.”
She frowns as she studies him. “That is odd.” She takes another drink, then says, “I volunteered.”
“For death-sleep?” asks William, reaching over and refilling her glass. His is still mostly full. “Why?”
“Same reason everyone else did, I suppose.” She sips a little more, and he eagerly awaits the rest of her explanation.
“We were not going to defeat the Legion. They wereeverywhere.Death-sleep was floated as a safety measure to ensure our survival. The idea was for a fraction of us to hide and awaken in the future, once it was safe—or, should the worst happen and our kind be wiped out, we would be the seeds for a new vampiric society.”
William leans into the table, drinking in her words. “Do you know what happened to the rest of the vampires? Nate claims they are still alive and also in death-sleep somewhere beyond our reach.”
“There are those who believe that,” she says, and by her tone it is clear that she is not one of them. “Even if it’s true, it makes no difference to me. I’m waiting for someone else.”
Rather than telling him who that is, she brings the wine to her lips again and evaluates William across the glass.
He must look clueless, because after another sip, she says, “The operative word wasseeds.”
He still does not understand.
“Seeds must be watered,” she says, setting down her glass, “and the only way for our population to grow is through…”
She seems to be giving him a chance to guess. When he does not, she completes her own thought: “aStoker.”
William takes what is only his second sip of wine. He is surprised to find that Anne has drained another glass, and she picks up the bottle to top off both their glasses.
“There is a Stoker among us?” he asks, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.
“I believe it stands to reason one was left behind,” she says, staring at him without the need to blink. “Given that they have not yet made themselves known, I suppose they are still asleep.”
William nods and frowns like he is considering her theory. “When did you awaken?” he asks.
“In 1919.” She leans back in her seat, her gaze relaxing. “Along with Lenny, I was one of the first seven of us to awaken. It took us a decade to find one another.”
“Who is Lenny?” he asks for what feels like the dozenth time.
“Lenny is someone who can only be experienced, not described,” she says mysteriously. “He is a living time capsule. A visionary. A scientist—”
“Ascientist?”
“He was the one who figured out we can drink donated blood without making Familiars. He has run other experiments, too, but he’ll tell you about them when you meet.”
Just then, the server returns with the second bottle. Anne tastes and approves it, and she does not speak again until they are alone.
