Page 30 of The Diary of the Vam'pir Jacques

Julius would find the scrolls of our ancestors fascinating, but we deemed them boring and self-opinionated, and I don’t think he realised this. Julius was wrapped up completely in his own world of academia. He was a considerate and wonderful man, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart.I do still have one.

Julius, a rare gem, stood out among good men. I doubt Julius ever harboured malevolent intentions, thoughts, or ideas. Even after the change which he took in his stride, indeed it gave him something else on which to theorise about. Julius stayed the same. A basically simple man with a big heart.

Next is our tragic Julia. She shared a room with me and worked as a jewelsmith whenever she roused herself enough. Despite being one of the best in her field, Julia struggled to find the enthusiasm to work.

Kierran’s death had nearly destroyed her mind. It would be centuries before Julia’s spirit healed. If I took Julia to the workroom, she would sometimes do something, or she would just stare into space. We were heartbroken by her soul-crushing grief, and yet there was nothing anybody could do. Julia was way past our help, and even Eduardo gave up. He said she would heal herself in time.

We included Julia in conversation, but you would get a one-word answer in a monotone voice.I doubt anyone had realised how much she had loved Kierran till he died. Such matches rarely occur, a one-in-a-lifetime love.

Julia refused point blank to visit her family or Kierran’s. Their family members came weekly for two or three years, only to be denied entry. They would go peacefully, saying they would try again. They didn’t bother us or try to force their way in to see her, and they always apologised for the interruption. Finally, they stopped coming.

You couldn’t blame them. The entire situation was heart-breaking for them, too, and they never saw Julia once.

Each time a decision needed making, Julia sided with the majority. Even after working alongside her for many years, I can honestly say I never truly knew her, not at first anyway. Julia remained a closed, tragic figure, devoid of any emotion except guilt. Survivor’s guilt. Nothing mattered to Julia anymore. And Julia continuously accepted responsibility for Kierran’s death, although it turned out it was Kierran that pushed them into it.

Ami was an herbalist, and she had her own garden full of herbs that grew at night. Since most people preferred sleeping at night to working, these botanicals were in high demand. For Ami, in her predicament, the job suited her perfectly. Now, you would never expect Ami to be a gardener.

Ami was tall, six feet two inches, with long red hair. Hair the colour of rust. Ami had one of the most curvaceous figures that I have ever seen, with full breasts and a tiny waist. Her eyes were a sparkling green, and her nose had freckles splattered across it. Ami’s mouth, like Nathan’s, begged to be kissed.

Ami’s hair fell halfway down her back, and everything about her screamed sex. Even Nathan tried his luck, and she just laughed him off.

Yet, it is a fact that Ami never gave sex up. She loved the way men desperately attempted to please her. Ami was the woman that created the myth of the red-haired siren. For Ami, sex held the same significance as feeding, and she combined them in a merciless game.

Ami had a very wicked and evil streak running through her, and I admit to being slightly frightened of her. I would often go out of my way to avoid her. The world was Ami’s playground, and she cared less about other’s perceptions. She never bothered about contaminating other cultures, which we all did at least once.

Ami deliberately interfered in them. It was another means of amusing herself. She appeared confident, cocksure, and radiant. If she couldn’t have someone or something, she would smash it or them. Ami was full of rage at the Betrayal and directed it at others over the years. Ami represented the perfect killer, sophistication and evilness wrapped up in one slinky, sexy package. Only a fool would refuse her.

Li’zel was the opposite, tiny, dainty, and doll-like. She had curly black hair cut into a short bob and brown eyes. Li’zel had a little pert nose and a thin mouth and was no less wicked than Ami. In fact, I would say she was worse. Somewhere in Ami, compassion had been witnessed. (Not by myself but by others.) Li’zel had none.

Li’zel had clearly never heard of the word-no. Even before we began to hunt, Li’zel was ruthless. What she wanted, she got; simple as that. Although Li’zel was the only stonesmith among us, she demanded the largest room and got it.

None of us could be bothered to argue. Li’zel stood five foot eight inches tall of sheer power. Her temper far outstripped any of ours, and she pulled men like a magnet. She was also very cunning as she hid her true nature from them. They never understood what they were getting involved with.

There was an animal-like quality to Li’zel, not the sweet, cute deer, but a lioness in heat. Li’zel had never been told no, and her parents had given her everything she’d wanted. She thanked the Creator that she had been an only child. If Li’zel had ever had a brother or sister, she would have killed them.

Li’zel proved nasty, spoilt, rude, abrupt, and brilliant. Yet, she, too, could fall in love. And it was a passion unmatched by any other, and it was totally one-sided. Of all people, Julius is the one she fell in love with.

Once, Li’zel mentioned to Inka that in her one hundred years of life, she had never experienced such a sensation and desired to eliminate it.

I laughed silently as Li’zel set out to trap Julius.

Li’zel thought that if she bedded him, then the emotion would stop. How wrong she was. She was blatant and obvious one week, innocent and shy the next. However, Julius never noticed her attempts. Li’zel found herself utterly baffled.

How could this happen to her? Throughout her life, she had never experienced being ignored, yet this little pipsqueak seemed unaware of her existence. It proved hilarious. And in saying so, I show that I indeed do have my cruel side to laugh at her predicament.

Hysterically, Julius may not realise how Li’zel feels even now.Well, Julius, read this, and you know now; sorry, Li’zel, not.

“Julius, do you not wish to date?” I asked him once in earshot of Li’zel.

“Date, my boy?” he repeated absentmindedly.

“Yes. Take a woman for dinner,” I prodded.

“We don’t eat,” Julius replied, puzzled, and I shook my head and walked away.How could anyone argue with that?

Seti, too, shared my sense of humour, and often into the night, we would sit and discuss the aforementioned problem and laugh ourselves silly at Li’zel’s latest attempts.

Seti happened to be a winemaker, not a very famous or selective one, but he brewed some potent stuff, and his wines were popular. How he did his job late in the evening I can’t begin to comprehend, but somehow, he did. Seti was three hundred and seventy years old and a striking, white-haired, muscular man.

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