“Because you deserve to know the truth, and I’ll never lie to you.”
“That’s like explaining to a five-year-old he’s going to die eventually. Or that there’s no Santa. Or both – on his birthday, while you strangle his puppy!”
“You’re not five, Lacey,” Jared said patiently. “There are options. I just need to think them through.”
“Options? What options?”
His expression became guarded. “I’d rather not say just yet.”
My eyes narrowed to slits. “That’s not good enough, Jared. We’re in this together, right? I need to know what you’re thinking. If I’m not five, then don’t treat me like I am half the time.”
He looked like he was in physical pain. “Okay. There’s a legend. It’s old, from the Dark Ages, when little was known of science, and superstition ruled the land. In that legend, a vampire fell in love with a mortal – a woman so beautiful that to stare at her was to know the face of God, it’s said. She was of a noble Hungarian dynasty – minor royalty, only about your age, perhaps younger.”
I waited for him to continue and shifted on the bed.
“He loved her more than anything in the world, more so than even his own life, and the pair were to be married – to run away together and wed far from the obligations of her family. But he wouldn’t make her into a vampire. She was so perfect as a living human that he felt that to do so would have been desecrating all that was good.”
“How does that help us?” I asked impatiently.
“He embarked on a quest, in search of a potion that could reverse the curse he bore – that would render him mortal. It’s said he traveled to the Byzantine Empire, spent time with the Moors, and eventually made his way to the forbidden shores of what is now China, seeking the most powerful wizards and sorcerers of the time.”
“And?” Just give me the answer now, and fill in the background after!
“The legend says that he was eventually successful and, after a painful transition, was able to return to a mortal state. After a time, he returned to Hungary, but when he approached the castle of the woman’s family, it was deserted – a pestilence had swept the land, and all within, including his love, had perished in the plague. He was so distraught to have lost the single thing that had given him hope that he threw himself from the highest battlement and died.”
I gaped at him in disbelief. “That’s horrible.”
Jared nodded. “It is indeed. But the point is that he found a way to reverse the vampirism – at least, if the legend is to believed.”
I shook my head. “But that’s just a story, right? Our big hope is that some centuries-old fable has a grain of truth to it?”
“It’s endured over the years. I can speak with some of the truly old members of my clan and learn what I can. If it’s possible…that’s one way out for us.”
“You would become mortal just to be with me?” I whispered, the import of what he was suggesting hitting home.
“I’ll do whatever’s necessary for us to be together, Lacey,” he said, his voice breaking on the last words.
My heart ached at the obvious pain he felt, and I relented on the hard stance I’d taken with him. The situation was obviously more complicated than I’d grasped, and any hope for an easy solution had vanished.
“What about just…I don’t know,” I said, “having self-control? Using your discipline or something? I mean, if your only solution is some legend that probably isn’t even true, surely there’s a way to make things work in the meantime, isn’t there?”
He nodded. “That’s where we are now. But there are practical limits. I won’t endanger your safety.”
“Can’t you wear something like a catcher’s mask or something?” I asked, only half kidding.
“Or one of those Hannibal Lecter bite guards? That would be a lot of fun at bedtime…” he said, his eyes amused but his face still serious.
I exhaled in frustration. “There has to be something we can do.”
“Of course. But I need to figure out what.”
“And you’re absolutely positive you’ve thought of everything?”
“The alternatives are we either live as we are, or maybe there’s some truth to the legend and I can hunt down the source of it…and that’s about it.”
I shook my head. “No, there’s a third possibility, Jared. There has to be. Maybe you can learn what the ingredients were to the potion that transforms yearlings into…special people.”
“It’s been tried, without success. I’m afraid that if it hasn’t happened by now, the secret is lost.”
“But someone made it originally. There has to be a recipe.”
He nodded. “There was, but it’s been lost to time. As, I must remind you, has that rarest ingredient. At one point there was a chest with the potion in powder form. It held so much that nobody ever considered it might run out – only a pinch was required to achieve the transformation. But the chest disappeared when Europe was in turmoil during World War I, and was never located again. Believe me, it’s a kind of holy grail for my kind. Many have searched for some clue as to where it could be, but with no luck.”
“Who created it in the first place?”
“One of the great sorcerers. A man more mythical throughout the centuries than any other. He has had many names, but in your language, he was known as…Merlin.”
I snorted. “So…Merlin…made a ton of this stuff, and somehow you lost it? And now we’re screwed? This is crazy.”
Jared nodded again. “Yes, that’s basically it. But…where there is a will, there’s a way.” He hesitated. “Although…seeing you as a mortal, I would prefer any solution other than making you…like me again. You give up so much. If there’s any other way…”
He sat forward and took my hands in his. His skin was cool, his fingers strong
