Page 35 of Taken By the Vampires
“That’s because she’s clearly starving,” Davon said.
Cassius slid the plate in front of me as I sat in one of the high chairs at the island counter. The plate was piled high with three times the amount of food I’d normally eat. “She’ll eat because my food is absolutely delicious.”
“She’ll eat because of both.” I couldn’t help just join in with the good-natured banter. I was absurdly pleased when both men laughed at my joke. I was about to tuck into my breakfast when I realized I was the only one eating. “Isn’t anyone going to join me?”
“We ate earlier. This is all for you,” Cassius said.
“Why don’t I ever see you eat?” So far, I’d been the only one eating. “I don’t want you to have a cook a special meal for me every time, Cassius. In fact, I’ll cook you all a meal to thank you for saving my life. That’s if you don’t mind me taking over your kitchen.”
“We like taking care of you and I like to cook. Reminds me of the good old days. Life was a lot simpler then,’ Cassius said.
“When you were an innkeeper, with Betty, the big-boobed barmaid?” I asked. Those terms still seemed so odd. This whole thing seemed odd. I shrugged it off.
“You were listening,” Cassius grinned.
“Bit hard not listen when you blather on about Betty. I’ve heard it for so long I just turn it off," Davon said.
“So how long have you all known each other?” I asked.
“I’ve been putting up with their sorry assess for centuries,” Cassius said.
Davon sent Cassius a pointed stare. “What he means is that it feels like centuries. It has been a few years. Since our youth, you might say.”
“That’s a long time.” Maybe twenty years. They didn’t seem more than thirty, but yet some of their comments and mannerisms seemed from another era altogether, making them seem so much older than that.
“You have no idea,” Davon said.
But I wanted an idea. I wanted to know everything about them, so I pressed. “So, you met at school?”
“School? There was no school where I came from. I traveled with my parents and siblings,” Davon said.
“Were you home schooled? And what did your parents do that you had to travel?” I asked.
Davon shuffled on his chair, staring to look a little uncomfortable, “We lived…remotely. Dad taught me everything he knew. All of the practical things, while Mom taught us stories and her skills.”
It was very unusual for parents not to educate their children. There were schools in every town, no matter how small, and those that lived remotely either boarded their children during the school week or home schooled, although that was uncommon. Everyone knew the value of a good education. “Practical things? What did your father do?” I hated seeing him so uncomfortable, but there was definitely something I was missing and the pieces were not falling into place.
“Dad was a trapper,” Davon said.
“Atrapper? That’s not a common career.” Illegal in most places. I had to wonder about the ethics of his parents. “Do you mind me asking, is he a criminal?”
Davon chuckled, the sound merrier than I’d have thought with parents with a dubious income stream, who provided little to no education for their family. “He died a while ago now. And not illegal. When he did it, it was a respectable thing to do. Exciting for me. We traveled the length and breadth of this country, following migrations and selling to frontier towns. I followed in his footsteps for a while.”
“Frontier? You make it sound like the Wild West, Davon.” Although the Berkshires were wild, it wasn’t a frontier. Nothing was. Everything was mapped and documented on Google maps. There wasn’t an inch on Earth, maybe other than the extreme poles, that hadn’t been explored in one way or another.
Davon leaned his elbows on the countertop, “In my youth, it was very exciting.”
“Everything is exciting to a youth, “Cassius said.
“That is true. It was also hard work. Ever skinned a bear carcass? It’s hard work,” Davon said.
I had a hard time imagining a young Davon skinning a bear. We had some licensed, hardened hunters that came to town once every while, but they tended to be big, burly, uncouth men. Nothing like Davon, with his lean musculature and smooth skin. He also just didn’t seem the sort.
“I’ll stick to my pancakes and grits, thank you very much,” Cassius said.
“And what about you, Cassius? Where did you learn to cook?” I turned my attention to Cassius. The more questions I asked, the more information I had.
“I sort of fell into it. Came into town and never left. Both parents died when I was a child. I really had no skills apart from what I could learn quickly. I had a knack for cooking. People came to me for food and so I decided it was as good an occupation as any, so I set up shop,” Cassius said.
