Page 32 of The Star's Sword

“You were nice to him at the ball,” I said.

“Everyone is nice to everyone at balls,” Mark said, flashing a fang with his grin. “That’s why they’re boring. That’s why I found myself seeking you out almost immediately. Unlike most, you weren’t trying to win me over or even feed me. That makes you different.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Others just jump to feed you? Seriously?”

Mark raised an eyebrow back, as if mocking me. “Seriously. Have you ever fed a vampire?”

I gulped. “No. I need to save my strength.”

“But you donate often,” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

He folded his arms, narrowing his lips into a hard line, then shifted in his chair. “But that’s so unpleasant. You don’t even feel the pleasure that a vampire can give.”

My eyes darted to the bed, but he just laughed again.

“I don’t mean that kind, though yes, I personally love to feed on a human that way just to see the way they nearly lift off the sheets with pure pleasure. Biting enhances that, and when feeding we inject a substance into our prey’s body that feels better than anything you can imagine. So good it’s almost instantly addictive. That’s how you get ghouls,” he said. “They can’t stop feeding us, but they don’t want to commit to becoming a full vampire.”

“How does that happen?” I asked. Simon had explained some things, but I wanted to hear everything I could from Mark. Plus keep him distracted from feeding on me.

I still hadn’t called Samael, not feeling in any danger at the moment.

“They have to give us all of their blood, and then we give it back, and change them. Become their maker and trainer. But they must give up several things in the transformation.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Empathy,” Mark said. “Primarily. Vampires are pure predators, and we were created by isolating the most dangerous traits celestials could think of. Pure feeding machines, but with the celestial ability to create illusions. That’s glamour.”

“So vampires don’t have empathy?” I asked, shocked.

“We can’t,” Mark said. “We have to predate just to feed. We can’t have pity for the humans, any more than humans before the great divide had any pity for the animals they killed and ate. It is just nature. The circle of life.” He folded his arms. “But empathy makes many connections better, so I suppose it is something people have a hard time giving up.”

I remembered Simon mentioning that even human feelings were something difficult for him, something he absorbed and fed off in a way, but didn’t fully get.

“Simon has empathy though,” I said, thinking about it.

“Does he?” Mark asked. “Or has he simply lived long enough to fake it perfectly?”

I stared at that, too shocked to answer.

“I believe he has what you would call cognitive empathy, which is when someone makes an effort to assemble a logical framework to understand how others would feel when it doesn’t come naturally to them. But there’s no way he feels the range of emotions you do. Nor do I.”

I nodded. “I see. That’s interesting. Thanks for telling me.”

Mark stood and walked over to my chair, and before I could react, his boot kicked out to knock it back and over, but then his foot hooked around the leg and caught it, suspending me halfway back before laughing and letting me land.

My heart was racing, but he simply put hands on both sides of my head on the chair and put his eyes very close to mine.

They were so dark, but so velvety, and almost soft when you got close to him.

“I can’t help wanting to test you. To see your reactions. I nearly knocked your chair over, and yet you trusted me to catch it. I pinned you and you sit chatting with me. I tell you over and over that I believe I have the right to take what I want from you, and you can’t stop me, and yet here you are. Staring me in the face.” His jaw ticked. “I’ve never met someone like you.”

He sat back in his chair, looking restless.

“I don’t think you’ll hurt me,” I said. “You already would have if you wanted to. All I really want is your support with my rise as the Morningstar. I don’t want to call Samael here, because I don’t want anyone hurt.”

Mark smiled. “I’ve ripped an eighth-realm celestial in half down the center with my bare hands. I’m not worried.”

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