Page 92 of The Vampire King's Victory

“And you guys aren’t young?” Christian had lifted an eyebrow.

Now that he spoke to people routinely who were hundreds of years old, it was hard to treat half a century of life asold.

She fussed with the front of her shirt. “They’ve been dead over a decade, Christian, but the bodies that Caemorn created for them still look the same as the ones they had back then. We’re… your father and I… we’ve aged. Become old fuddy duddies in comparison.”

“Mom, you realize that once you’re turned that you will be perfectly healthy. More than that. Stronger. Faster. Without any aches or pains. You’ll have nearly boundless energy and--”

“A dowdy Vampire,” his mother interrupted him with a moue of distaste on her face.

“What?” he laughed.

“That’s what I’d be!” His mother flapped her arms at her sides. “I just have got comfortable with the idea of being middle aged and now… I don’t know. I can see the Harrows as Vampires, but me? I don’t know.”

He’d gone over to her then and grasped her forearms. “You know that there isn’t alookfor a Vampire, right? You’ve seen Charlie! He loves taking on the visage of a friendly grandmother. William looks like a teenager. And there are plenty of middle-aged looking Vampires, too. They’re all old enough to make you and Dad seem like teenagers.”

“I realize it's foolish and vain and stupid and I…” His mother hung her head. “I’m afraid, Christian. I’m afraid I won’t recognize me. I’m afraid I won’t fit in as a Vampire or with who I am now. I…” She shook her head then slowly added, “Your father and I have never been religious, as you know, but…”

“Knowing there’s something after this life makes you think you’re meant to leave it?” His voice was soft and though he had posed the statement as a question, he knew that was how she felt.

She wasn’t alone. Religious worship had shot up since Vampires had been revealed. There were those humans even joining the Order. Kaly Vampires were endlessly interviewed about the afterlife. Caemorn, though, was very careful in what he allowed to be discussed.

She nodded miserably. “But I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to grow feeble while others stay the same. I want to be a part but… I just don’t know yet.”

Christian understood his mother’s conflict. In some ways, it would have been nice for his parents to have the clarity and certainty of the Harrows. But that wasn’t who they were. He tried not to take it personally that they might not choose the Vampire path. He knew they loved him, but this had to be their unequivocal choice. He didn’t want them to regret it.

Christian turned to Rajani. “You’re worried if my parents don’t choose to be turned that people might make a negative inference.”

“Your parents must do what is right for them as individuals,” Rajani said even as she mentally acknowledged what he stated to be true. “I hope they join us. The Harrows are… Well, they were television celebrities before and now. Your parents are more--”

“Normal?” Christian lifted an eyebrow.

She grinned and nodded. “Yes. Maybe moreapproachableis the word. They seem like people others might know or be.”

“I’ll let you know when they decide,” Christian said.

She nodded and disappeared into the crowd, once more almost like magic. He was sure she would pop back up again when needed. He turned back to the cameras, checking that they were angled just right as Julian sat down in the chair, preparing to interview his parents. But he was not alone for long as a tall, slender figure holding a purple velvet bag lovingly in his arms joined him. Elgar and his skull, which he had agreed reluctantly to put in a bag for the evening, had arrived.

“Elgar! I didn’t know if we would see you here tonight,” Christian admitted. “I’m glad you are.”

Crowds of humans were often too much for the elder Vampire to bear. Though his thirst had been long quenched, the memory of starvation still held him tightly and he feared he might lose control. And Elgar wasn’t a big fan of lots of people in any event.

Elgar regarded his bare feet that stuck out from under the dark gray robes he wore. Shoes were something he just wasn’t terribly fond of. Thankfully they had gotten him to wear something other than sweatpants and a hoodie.

“You and Julian need support,” Elgar said. “And Master might wish someone Whispered to.”

“Julian and I appreciate your presence,” Christian said fondly. “I hope there will be no need of Whispering though. I’m surprised that Daemon hasn’t sent you to one of the big cities where there’s unrest.”

“Not yet. Emotion must be expended then Whispering will help more later,” Elgar explained, this time staring at a power cord with intense concentration.

“I see.” Christian felt a finger of cold run down his spine. But it was not from Elgar’s words. It was from the ghost.

Few ghosts could come inside of Nightvallen. The city, itself, seemed to drain them so only the strongest could survive for long. But with all the life here, the spirits could not help themselves from drifting over the water, through the woods and passing under the gates.

“What is wrong?” Elgar asked, noting his sudden alertness.

“Uninvited guest,” Christian said.

“I do not see anything.” Elgar frowned as his silver eyes swept the surrounding area before dropping back down to his feet.

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