Page 15 of Vampire Claus

Six

Taviano sensed thefirst flakes drifting down toward them, descending on their adventure like a benediction. Paul followed Taviano’s gaze skyward and snow brushed his face. He spread his hands wide, sticking out his tongue to catch it.

Sharing laughter on a snowy night after decades alone felt like a reward and a punishment all in one. Taviano was happier in that moment than he could ever recall, basking in Paul’s light. Yet some part of him warned the years stretching ahead would be that much darker by comparison. He wanted to extend the evening forever, but he could sense the cocoon around Paul starting to dissipate.

“We should get you home,” he said regretfully. “You’re losing the warm air.”

Paul sobered as he brushed snow from his eyebrows. “Boo. I don’t want to go home yet. Can’t you just juice me again?”

Taviano considered his demon’s unusual reaction to Paul but still shook his head. “It isn’t worth the risk to you. My demon is hungry and a little restless. When I draw on its power like I did for you and to create my illusion in the shelter, I give it an opening. It’s a constant effort to keep it locked down. The hungrier it is, the harder time I have. If it escaped… Well.”

That sucked the mood out of the dark alley where they stood. Paul’s brow furrowed and in a hushed voice, he asked, “Would you kill me? I mean, woulditkill me?”

“So far it’s shown no interest in feeding on you,” Taviano admitted, “but it might try. In any case the amount of blood needed to satiate a bloodbeast isn’t enough to kill a healthy adult. If I let it feed, it usually calms enough for me to force it back. Afterward I make the victim forget, do my trick with the wounds, and move on. But I don’t always succeed in controlling it.”

“From Santa Claus toThe Nightmare Before Christmas,” Paul murmured. Taviano looked away. In a stricken voice, Paul exclaimed, “Oh god, I’m sorry. That was super mean. I don’t really think that.”

Taviano sounded hoarse to himself as he said, “You did. And I understand. I’m a monster after all.” He squinted at the sky. “It’s past midnight. Let’s get you home and I can make you forget all of this.” He pulled off the red sweatshirt and offered it to Paul, who returned his thin black shirt.

Dressed in their own clothes again, Paul tugged down his hem and looked ashamed of his outburst. “Taviano, I’m sorry. I don’t want it to end this way. With you mad at me.” More quietly, he said, “I don’t want it to end at all.” He took Taviano’s hand and they began to walk back in the direction of Paul’s apartment.

Taviano could have whisked them there in moments, but he found he didn’t want the night to end either.

A few blocks into their stroll, Paul asked, “Are you…? Wow, this is a weird question.” He stopped himself, but then spit it out anyway. “Do you live here in Boston? I mean, do you have, like, a den or something here?”

“No.” Taviano could feel Paul waiting for more, and a block later he gave it to him. “I never stay in one place more than a single night, and rarely in an area more than a few days. I always move on.”

“For almost two hundred years? That’s like…” Paul squinted as he seemed to work out the math.

Taviano sighed. “It’s been sixty-two thousand, eight hundred fifty-three nights since Bronislav turned me.”

Paul clutched his hand harder. “Sixty-twothousandnights of traveling? Of never knowing where you’re going to be next? Isn’t that exhausting?”

“If I let myself dwell on it, yes. I’ve been all over Europe and Asia. Africa. South America. I’ve walked the length and breadth of North America alone four times over. When I get tired of America, I might go to Australia next.” Paul apparently processed that as Taviano continued. “I’d like to go to Antarctica though I doubt I could keep my demon fed. Not enough people there, and I hate the idea of drinking from a penguin or other fauna I might find. Animal blood doesn’t work very well anyway.”

“Why do you never stay in one place?”

“That was how Bronislav trained me, to move constantly. I was practically his slave for years after he turned me. When I was finally free of him, I had no better plan so I kept going. Vampires are extremely solitary, you see.

“I’m not sure whether this will make any sense to you. When two of us meet, the bloodbeasts become practically unhinged with the need to destroy and consume each other. With a newly turned vampire, it’s manageable. It has to do what its sire tells it, no matter how much they hate each other. When both vampires are mature, though, a battle can erupt, and if it does, it’s violent and destructive and reckless. The solution—I guess you’d call it a custom—has developed among our kind. Once a vampire claims a territory, others mostly respect it and stay out to avoid a fight. Rarely, a vampire decides to take a territory. Then thereisa battle that doesn’t end until one kills the other.”

“Wait, a vampire can die?” Paul interrupted.

“We call it the second or final death. Sunlight, fire, the loss of all ichor—these and a few other things can kill a bloodbeast. When it dies, so does the vampire host. But those battles are rare.”

“Have you ever tried to take a, what did you call it? A territory?”

Taviano shook his head. “I’ve never found any place I wanted to claim for myself. I just move constantly, slipping across the edges, avoiding encounters.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t always work but for the most part I’ve been able to stay out of fights or get away when they erupt.”

“Are there other vampires here? Is this someone else’s place?”

“Oh yes. Big cities like Boston and New York and Chicago are divided among a few vampires. The population is dense enough to support more than one bloodbeast, as long as they keep some distance from each other. Out in the western parts of America—in Montana for example—one or two vampires may claim the entire state.”

“Do you have to, uh, feed every night?”

“No. Unless I’ve expended a lot of energy I can go three or four days, which gives me time to be selective.” Taviano dipped his head sheepishly. “This sounds pretentious, but I look for the worst. I wait in the roughest part of a town or a city and watch. When I’m sure a person is bad enough, I stalk him. Then I get him alone…”

“And you drink blood from him,” Paul finished quietly. “Whoa. That’s some heavy shit.”

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