Page 58 of Blood Caged

I incline my head.

“Just how old are you, anyway?” She tilts her head. “Or is that a rude question to ask a vampire?”

I chuckle without realizing it. “No, it’s not rude. Many of us don’t think that far back, though.”

“Why? Because it’s painful?” Her expression is earnest.

“Sometimes,” I acknowledge. “Most of us have felt loss in our lifetimes.”

“You’ve lost loved ones?”

I nod.

“Family?”

I nod once more.

“Lovers?” Her questions are growing increasingly personal, and I can’t understand why I haven’t put a stop to this.

“Yes, Mia. I’ve lost lovers. Wives. I saw the children of my mortal life age and die.”

“Oh.” Her eyes are wide. “I’m so sorry.”

I shrug. “It’s part of our world. I needed to experience life fully, but eventually, it became too much. So I did what many others do and turned away from forming lasting connections.”

“That’s…that’s really sad, Soren.” Her brow furrows. “But can’t you…you know, ‘make’ other vampires?”

I don’t answer for a while, a thousand memories swirling in my head. “There are those who become makers, yes. It’s how I was created, after all.” I think of Maxwell and the unyielding hold he has over me. “I don’t believe I would be a good maker.”

“Why not?” Her persistence is almost charming. It’s also heading into dangerous territory.

“It’s a big responsibility. One not to be entered into lightly. Unlike reading a book,” I deftly change the subject.

She doesn’t press further, and we fall into an easy discussion about literature, touching on everything from the Brontës to modern fantasy. Mia’s knowledge is vast, and her opinions well-formed. I find myself engrossed in the conversation, my usual guard slipping away.

It strikes me how long it’s been since I’ve had a conversation like this. Decades, perhaps even centuries. I’ve kept myself isolated for so long, avoiding meaningful interactions with humans and even my own kind. The ease with which we talk is unsettling. And yet, I can’t bring myself to end it.

“You know,” Mia says, a hint of amusement in her voice, “for a bloodsucker, you’re surprisingly well-read.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Did you expect me to be some sort of literary philistine?”

She laughs, the sound warming something inside me. “No, I suppose not. It’s just…unexpected.”

I find myself laughing along with her. “Well, I’ve had a lot of time to catch up on my reading list. There’s not much else to do around here.”

The joke slips out before I can stop it, and for a moment, I tense. But Mia’s smile only grows wider.

“I bet,” she says, shaking her head. “Though I have to say, your taste in books is much better than your taste in career choices.”

I lean forward, curious about Mia’s life before all this. “What about you? What did you do before…well, before you came here?”

Mia’s eyes grow distant, a small smile playing on her lips. “I was an event planner, believe it or not. Mostly big events that need pyrotechnics.”

“Really?” I can’t hide my surprise. “I would have thought…”

“That all witches spend their days brewing potions and casting spells?” She arches an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes.

I chuckle, caught out. “I suppose that was rather narrow-minded of me.”

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