Page 48 of Silent Stalker
“Often enough, but it’s a very careful and deliberate decision,” Emerick admitted. “The mothers need to be monitored to make certain there aren’t any complications, and she may require transfusions throughout her pregnancy in some cases. We often have a good idea if the infant is predisposed for vampirism if the mother becomes anemic during the pregnancy. It’s usually not a big problem, but the pregnancies are not without risks. Vampires tend to be very protective of their wives, even more so when the wife is mortal. He would rather have no children and have her longer, and childbearing is dangerous for mortal women. Ironically, while difficult to bring a child to term as a vampire, the mother is almost guaranteed to survive through the delivery. Her brood helps with providing blood, but the typical complications human women face are avoided with vampiric women.”
“But it’s much harder to have the child.” I went to check on my soup, and upon investigating the potatoes, determined it was done cooking and ready to be blended. To my relief, Emerick owned several immersion blenders, and I picked one, giving the blades a rinse before confirming I wouldn’t end up splattering myself with molten potatoes when I turned the device on. “Is it really possible that my father is an old vampire? What counts as old?”
“We tend to view two hundred or older as old. Anything over five hundred is beginning to skirt on ancient territory. I’m considered to be ancient,” Emerick stated, and he gestured at Annora and Gerry. “They’re skirting the ancient category. Ford is skirting on becoming old, but he struggled to adapt to modern times compared to Gerry.”
Ford shrugged. “Modern times suck. When I was turned, we could just go visit the cows in the fields and have a sip from one here and there. We could mask our bites to look like the local bugs did it, and the cows didn’t mind us as long as we brought them treats and gave them affection. We are no longer permitted to bite the livestock without just cause.”
The nature of his complaint startled me, and I turned to stare at him, the immersion blender in my hand, ready to render my potatoes and broth into soup with a few additions. “You liked biting cows?”
“Cows are such wonderful creatures. They’re fierce when threatened or angered, but they are gentle when you forge a bond of trust with them. They can be ridden. And when they end their lives, be it natural or time for the slaughterhouse, they are delicious. Cows are the perfect animal. I would own entire herds of cattle, but Emerick keeps telling me no.”
“We do not bite our pet cows anymore,” Emerick stated in an even, neutral tone. “The experience of drinking from a willing creature directly is addicting, and Ford struggled the most with those changes when the laws changed. If I let you loose with herds of cattle, you’d be visiting them every night, and I would have to deal with the problem yet again. When you can have cows to pet and love without biting, then you can have cows. But until then, you’re still banned from having livestock. It’s too easy for your interest in livestock to become an interest in people.”
Ford sighed. “I know, I know.”
Ford had an issue with biting cows? “Is this a common problem?”
“It’s common enough with some older vampires. Ford was turned when cattle were commonplace and vampires were moving away from drinking human blood altogether. When I turned him, it was in the age of live hunting, and he didn’t adjust as well to bottled bloods as most vampires. Once a vampire reaches a certain age, it becomes easier to adapt, but some habits are difficult to break. Ford’s habit is hunting cows. But he forges emotional connections with cows. Beef cattle, who are raised to be slaughtered at a fairly young age.”
I raised a brow. “Do I need to beat some common sense into you? If you’re going to keep a stock of cattle specifically for snacking on, they’re pets who serve no other purpose than to be your pet and die of old age. You can eat them after they die from old age. Just drink out of the bottle like everyone else. If I can drink out of a damned bottle, so can you.” I wrinkled my nose. “I would hope the cows taste better than miscreants.”
“The cows do not mind my consumption of their blood,” Ford replied in a dignified tone.
“See? I mean, I get it. Emerick is delicious, but I can keep my pointy little teeth out of him and drink from the bottle.” I heaved a sigh and stared at my husband. “Why are you so damned delicious, anyway?”
“Being a willing participant in your dessert helps significantly with my taste.”
“Why is it okay that I can drink from you but it’s not okay for him to drink from pet cows?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.
“I can consent. The cows can’t.”
Oh. “I guess cows don’t speak English and can’t really consent to having their blood taken while they’re still alive, can they?”
Emerick nodded, and he joined me at the stove, peeking into my pot. “That’s right. That’s why we use magic to preserve blood and we gather all the blood we can during slaughter, making sure they have the best deaths possible. That way the blood isn’t tainted from fear or pain. We still allow starved or endangered vampires to drink from livestock, but they’re supposed to notify their master so we can compensate the farmer for any injured livestock. If the livestock dies, we pay for the animal’s value if the meat can’t be used.”
“Obviously, I have a lot to learn about what it means to be a vampire. So, if my father found out I’ve been the one killing miscreants, how would he react if he is an ancient vampire versus just an old one?”
“An old vampire, around Ford’s age, maybe a little younger or older by a hundred years, would be repulsed by the idea. They were raised where women took very certain roles. Slaughtering other vampires is not one of those roles, but some of them were quite handy at slaughtering fowl, goats, and even cows as needed.” Emerick grinned at Ford. “Ancient vampires like myself find you to be positively alluring. If your father is on the ancient scale of things, he will view you as a good tool in his arsenal, especially considering our current situation. If your mother turns, he will be the reason why two women survived. That will earn him a great deal of prestige until everyone learns you were both turned without your consent. Your mother will likely turn without my maker finishing the process, but my maker taking over will make the transition less traumatic for her.”
“If you’re trying to convince me I should stab my father in the face with one of my stakes, you’re doing a good job.”
“If he is the one responsible for what was done to you and your mother, I would enjoy watching you teach him a final lesson on why a good master either takes responsibility for his offspring or receives consent.”
“Like you took responsibility with Ben.”
“Precisely. But understand this, Pepper. In your shoes, I would ask myself if your father would go through so much effort on someone he did not want to love for all eternity. He did not begin his gambit with your mother, but with you. If he had viewed you as expendable, you would not have lived for long beyond childhood. If he had viewed you as expendable, he would not have risked the entirety of his empire so that you might one day inherit it should he reach the end of his eternity first. He was not cultivating something temporary with you. Someone like you is not born by accident or fate but is created with a careful hand. Perhaps not kind, but careful. That is something for you to think about. How does the story change when you view it from a different perspective?”
I frowned, considering his words. I eased the immersion blender into the pot, turned it on to low, and observed the potatoes break down and become one with the broth. Once smooth, I added some cream cheese, a hearty dollop of sour cream, and some cheese and spices to give it the depth of flavor I appreciated. Then, as I got close to finishing my soup, I understood what Emerick hinted at without saying outright.
“He would have had an eternity to earn my forgiveness.”
“Yes, and things change when you look through your life through the lens of having a thousand years or more to do all your heart’s desires. For him, it is probably nothing to sacrifice your childhood so that he might have you, his daughter, for the next thousand years. And that he might do the same for your mother leads me to believe he, however twisted he is, began this as a venture of some dark affection. I would never do such a thing to any child of mine, no matter how deep the pain and fear of loss might be. But I am the stronger man. If his desperation was as such, well, it’s a different story than the one we initially believed, but it is one worth considering.”
“Then why all those court cases?” I asked, turning off the immersion blender and tapping it against the rim of the pot until most of the soup no longer clung to it. I swiped my finger along the side and gave a taste. Satisfied with my creation, I dismantled the blender, rinsed the blades off so it would be easier to clean later, and went on the hunt for bowls and spoons.
Maybe some soup would help me get through the rest of the conversation.
“It certainly did a good job of making him appear to be a petty, greedy mortal wishing to capitalize on your disappearance. Enough to fool me—if that is his game. Honestly, if his ploy was to make certain he maintained mortal appearances, he is a master at his craft. We would need to get a blood sample.”
