Page 50 of The Last Vampire
I frown, not quite following him. “I’m still stuck on how only one family can turn humans.”
“One bloodline,” he corrects me. “That is why human members of the Stoker lineage have always been protected by my kind and feared by yours. We want them to carry on reproducing and create more future Stoker vampires, while humans fear and detest them because they are destined to become powerful immortals one day.”
He falls back under the book’s spell, and I let him keep reading as I process this new bit of information. Yet I’m distracted by the intensity of his expression as he consumes the story at a pace that feels like a page per second.
I recognize the way he gives himself over to the novel, like it’s not a paper-and-ink object but a portal, and I realize the vampire and I might actually have something in common.
“Who were you?” I ask, the words escaping my lips. He looks at me, and I get the sense my stare has given something away.
His gaze drifts back toDracula,like he is more interested in the book than our conversation.
“I’m going to bed,” I say after a while.
William’s attention swings decidedly back to me, and I feel like a mouse that’s wandered into a lion’s den. I wish I’d just gone without saying anything.
I start moving toward the door. “You’re right that I need more sleep,” I add unnecessarily, and there’s a hardening in his gaze when I say the wordneedthat instinctively tells me I’ve overstayed my visit.
“’Night then,” I call over my shoulder as I dart past the crystal door, down a couple of grand staircases, and through the darkened halls. Sticking to the shadows, I listen for any patrolling staff members as I cut to the third tower.
It’s only when I make it to the bathroom that I rest my hands on thevanity and exhale in relief. When my eyes meet in the mirror, I see the same wild look I wore after my first encounter with the vampire.
Only this time, my skin isn’t losing its pallor, nor am I trembling with fear.
If anything, blood has rushed to my cheeks, and my breaths are shallow.
I lookexcited.
Climbing up the tower steps, I keep my footfalls whisper-soft. But when I make it to the penthouse’s landing, I feel him.
I turn around, and he’s a couple of steps below me, matching my height. My heart is pounding so hard, I worry my roommates will hear it knocking.
“I hope you have not forgotten my needs,” murmurs William, his gaze trailing my neck. His voice seems to fill the whole tower, wrapping around me like bands of smoke.
“You seem to have plenty of energy,” I say, not meeting his eyes.
“Feeding me is one of your duties as my Familiar,” he says, climbing up a step so that he’s a little taller than me.
“Finding a second Familiar would be such a hassle,” he goes on. “It would mean there is asecondhuman in this world beyond my control. Under the current circumstances, I could not allowtwosuch people to exist.”
He takes another half step up, so that one foot is resting on the landing, and he leans in until our faces are too close. “Do not give me a reason to replace you, Lorena.”
I back up against the door, my heart bruising my ribs with its blows, and I squeeze my eyes shut in anticipation of his bite—
But when I open them again, he’s gone.
“WHAT DOyou make of Mr. Rochester?”
I hear Minaro’s question, but I’m too swept up in the story to look away from the text as she kicks off the discussion portion of class.
“I know today is Friday, and you have all checked out, but you have been readingJane Eyrefor five days straight without the internet to distract you. I expect you to have met our heroine’s love interest by now.”
“I find him to be a true-to-life characterization.”
I look up at the sound of William’s voice. He’s in Mateo’s old seat, one row up and two spaces across from me.
“Good. Expand on that,” says the director.
William squares his shoulders. “Well, like all mankind, he does what he must to get his way.”
