Page 82 of Red Masquerade

“Where do you get the blood?” My voice came out meek and small, like I was afraid to ask.

His eyes flickered. “We get our sustenance in many ways. Willing donations, either directly from the source, or in a glass, such as this. Sometimes, we feed from each other.”

Like at those blood-letting parties. That couple that writhed together, feasting on each other’s necks.

“Or you attack someone.”

His brows drew together. “Only the worst of us attack. It’s uncivilized when there are other options.”

I set my fork and knife down. “How long have you lived this way?”

His hand stilled on the glass. “Six years.”

My eyes shut of their own accord, as if to shut the truth out. He’d gone away, and almost immediately, he’d changed. Lucas had sent him to his death and instead, he’d becomethis.

“What happened?” I whispered, my dinner forgotten. “What is it like?”

He thought about it for a moment, and the way his eyes searched me, I saw a glimpse into the past. For a brief moment, it wasAdamin front of me, that intelligent mind churning.

He was so clever, always thinking about something, always mulling over something he’d read, wondering about bigger things than I’d ever even think about. Big philosophical things that hurt my head. He had tried to talk to me about those things once, about his thoughts on the world, the universe, about the possibility of God—or something else—and I had kissed him to make him stop, to draw his attention to me instead.

“It’s an entirely different existence,” he said, and I knew he spoke of more than just his change in appetite. He glanced up at me. His pause grew longer, and I knew he was hesitating.

“Can you tell me about it?”

I wanted to know, but simultaneously, Ididn’twant to know. Wasn’t sure how much I could handle. My heart fluttered just thinking aboutwhathe was, wholly changed.

His eyes flickered as though he could hear it.

He was attuned to my heartbeat, to the flow of blood in my veins, the way a python is attracted to heat through the flick of their tongue. The way a shark can smell a single drop of blood through miles of water. Whatever transformation he had undergone had made him into a predator, one designed to hunt men.

And I had let him inside me.

“I will,” he finally said. “But I cannot tell it all at once because then I think I’d go mad.”

I nodded as though I understood. But I didn’t, not really. And I wouldn’t, until he told me. Until he revealed whatever it was he held within himself.

“How many of you are there?”

“It entirely depends.” His eyes darkened, like he feared my reaction. “There are perhaps as many of us as there are men, but we all come from different…species, as it were.”

I swallowed the lump growing in my throat, and his eyes found that spot beneath my ear. “And… what species are you?”

“I am Made,” he said. “I was not born this way, though there are plenty that are. They are… true vampires. Born.”

My eyelids fluttered closed at the word.Vampire.

“We are all over the world,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Us and many other creatures. My Sire was Born long ago, and then six years ago, he Made me.”

Vince adjusted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable at the conversation. Had he told anyone? Was I the first? Was it some weird custom that it was improper to ask a vampire of their origin?

And how many species were there? How many othercreatures? I wouldn’t look at anyone on the street the same, would forever wonder what lingered beneath their facades.

Did I know any other vampires?

“I fear it’s a terrible story,” he said, glancing at me for my reaction. “I was away at war, and I was nearly dead.”

That thought alone struck a fear in me, that I had almost truly lost him.