“Before I ran off the other night, I saw you bite that woman. Can you live off vampire blood?”
“In a way. What you saw is the reason I have been outcast from the vampire community for the most part.”
“How so?”
“I am viewed as a parasite. Vampires don’t feed on each other. It is usually impossible. Vampiric blood is volatile, and two such substances in one system is disastrous, usually breaking down the body’s tissue. I, on the other hand, discovered that drinking vampire blood gives me a strength enhancement, much the way human blood gives me vitality. The older the vampire, the more I benefit.”
“Why can you drink other vamps’ blood, though, if others can’t? Could your makers?”
“I don’t know.”
Michelle piped up. “I think he was made by a Bradshaw.”
Alex raised her eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.
“A little joke of Michelle’s,” Dante offered.
“No it’s not. I’m dead serious,” Michelle countered, then addressing Alex. “You’re a teacher, you know of the Bradshaw Paintings in the Kimberly right?”
“The rock paintings? Sure. But what do they have to do with anything? They were made between thirty to forty thousand years ago.”
“Well, actually they might be older. Some say it’s some of the oldest art ever found. But those beings that are drawn, they’re not white and they aren’t Aboriginal. But they are seen with sashes and head dresses, the works. In a lot of the depictions they look like they are performing or engaging in some sort of rituals,” Michelle said the last word slowly, looking at Alex as if trying to jog her memory of when they last spoke of recorded vampire ceremonies.
“You know,” Margaret said suddenly, “I have never thought about it like that. You could very well be right.”
“What do you think?” Alex asked Dante.
“I think she’s crazy,” he replied without a second thought.
Michelle gave a childish breath out of her nose before continuing. “Well, I think you can’t come up with a better explanation. So until you do—” she finished the sentence by sticking her tongue out and gesturing to him with her outstretched fingers.
Dante smirked. “In truth, no one knows our beginnings, where, why, when, how. And anything is possible. The one thing that is more or less agreed upon by our scholars is the existence of a group of men and women around before recorded time, which are considered to be the original vampires. Beings who fed off the blood of the living. You can see why they have been thought of as merely mythical, being that old. But it is true, no one has been able to tell me why I can drink vampire blood.”
“So you’re the only one who can, huh?”
Suddenly, Alex felt as if she had said the wrong thing. The room not only became silent, but void of atmosphere. Dante was expressionless. Alex looked to Michelle and Margaret, who looked at each other as an understanding passed between them.
Dante spoke slowly. “No. There is one other who can.”
Alex leant back in her seat. Dante didn’t sound angry, but he sure looked it. That lightness around his irises she had seen before was back. Hell, the mood was awkward enough already. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, Alex, not at all,” Dante assured her. His eyes were still menacing, but his voice was calmer. “Just a very unpleasant memory. The vampire in question is called Melina.”
Ah ha. Bingo. The vampire Julian always wanted. Dante and Julian hated each other, so Michelle had said. There was obviously much more to this. But not for tonight, she gathered.
“So drinking other vampires’ blood isn’t just your particular ability? Your thing you can do?”
Dante shook his head. “No.”
He rose and walked over to the nearest wall and placed his right hand on it, as if he were feeling for something. Dante used his left hand and placed it above his right, then did the opposite. Alex then realised what was happening. Dante was climbing up the wall. When he got to the ceiling he turned himself upside down and faced her, his hands in his pockets. He paced along the ceiling without a care in the world, not bothered at all by gravity or the law of physics.
Michelle and Margaret applauded.
“Ok,” said Alex, joining the clapping. “I’m suitably impressed.”
Dante turned and walked back down the way he came. When his feet were finally touching the ground, he leant casually against the wall.
“So, you’re strong, you’re fast and you can climb walls? Is there anything else you haven’t shown me?”
“Well, there is one thing. Vampires have a sort of birthday power that comes on the day we are made every year.”
Alex waited for him to continue, but Dante remained silent. “So?”
“I’ll tell you on my birthday.”
Alex laughed and shook her head.
“Besides,” Dante continued. “There is another reason Michelle and I came here, and that is to ask you and your mother to accompany us to the presentation tonight.”
“Me, why me?” Alex asked.
“It was my idea,” Michelle interrupted. “It’s Dante and my sixth anniversary, and they are doing a little thing for us. Nothing major. You’re a part of the family now so to speak, and I just thought you might like to see for yourself what all the fuss is about. You’ll be safe with us.”
Alex studied Michelle’s face as she talked. Alex believed her, but she wasn’t telling the whole reason. A reason Alex understood anyway. This was Michelle’s moment. A night recognising how far she had come.
“Of course I’ll go. I’d be happy to.”
“Great!” Michelle said. Her eyes didn’t mask the relief her laid back tone tried to muster.
“Can you tell me a bit more about it? What can I expect?” Alex asked.
“They have these things one night a year and
