Count

31. Unexpected Visitors

I paced up and down the length of the hall, thinking of Inari. Was denying her immortality the right thing to do, or was it the result of my own cowardice? I regretted becoming a vampire, but that didn't mean that she would.

Or did it? Inari would make a sorry excuse for a vampire. She lacked the cold calculation, the killer instinct. She wouldn't fit in, and surrounded with death, she'd be miserable for the rest of her days.

So I was doomed to a life without her. For the hundred thousandth time, I wondered if it was worth it to keep on living in misery.

Introspective as I was, the intruder took me by surprise. I recoiled from the sunlight streaming through the open door, and he was on top of me before I could react, wrapping a fine silver chain around my wrists and ankles. The silver burned and sapped my strength, rendering me helpless. I'd been pitifully unprepared for an attack. I cursed my complacency.

The intruder dragged me upright and fastened the chain around my wrists to the banister of the staircase, suspending my arms above my head. At least he'd had the decency to close the door behind him, or perhaps he didn't want us interrupted. As he tied my ankles to an ornamental dresser, I got my first good look at him.

"Malachi Isles," I said. Understanding washed over me like a drunkard dunked in ice water. "It was you who killed those missing vampires." I leaned my head back against the wall. "I'm impressed."

"You should be," Isles said, standing. He tried to project an aura of confidence, but his hands shook.

Interesting. "No, really. Some of those individuals were quite fearsome." I eyed him. "I assume you dealt with them more cleanly. This display," I looked up at my wrists, smoking and filling the room with the scent of burning flesh, "is juvenile and pathetic. So what did I do to deserve this special treatment?"

He back-handed me across the face.

How fun it was to play the psychopath, how gratifying to get a rise out of him while bound as his prisoner! At least it was a distraction from my melancholy. I grinned and spat blood onto the floor. "My point precisely."

He was angry and getting angrier. "You're in no position to criticize my technique."

"Oh, but I am. See, I can tell you are new at this because you've bound my hands and feet with silver, not forced it down my throat and waited for it to melt my insides before pulling it slowly out." My voice became cold. "In the old days, vampires favored torture to prove their power over one another." I sneered. "You can do nothing to me, boy, that has not already been done."

"So arrogant," he replied. "Especially from one whom I've taken down so easily. You vampires think you are invincible. But see what damage one little human can do?" He pulled out a knife and pressed it to my cheek. The blade was silver, and it scorched my skin.

Get on with it, I thought.

"Why don't you board up your windows like other vampires?" Isles asked. "With nothing covering them but curtains, it almost seems like you want the sunlight to kill you."

"Perhaps I do." I allowed some despair into my voice. "Perhaps one day I'll forget to close them, and just...end. You don't know how I loathe this existence."

Incredulous and resentful, he said, "So you have a death wish. But for decades, you've consumed blood regardless. How many innocents have died to maintain your life?"

Two could play that game. Part of me wanted to rile him up so he'd more quickly complete what he set out to do. "You are a multimillionaire, correct? How many innocents suffer to maintain your lifestyle?"