your stay around humans particularly tenuous? You are a vampire of large stature, and your blood need is likely beyond the regular capacity of live donors on a frequent basis,” she ventured.
Devon inclined his head in deference. “That’s correct. However, I make it a point to reside in locations with easy accessibility to populations of wildlife, such as deer.”
“So humans --”
“-- are usually prey of opportunity, which is less common, unfortunately. I primarily sustain myself on larger animals. Humans are very much the occasional prized steak in a regular diet of chicken.”
The edges of her mouth upturned with amusement at his analogy. Despite her misgivings, there was something she liked about him. “And my mate…”
“-- was what I thought to be an opportune steak, though I was actually stalking a wild boar the night I ran across him,” he supplied.
“So pork was on the menu instead of chicken that night,” she offered wryly.
Devon grinned, displaying a set of large white teeth. “Exactly.”
Katrina nodded thoughtfully.
“How’s your mate?” he asked.
Her expression turned serious. “Caleb’s feeling much better, thank you. But his injuries were worse than I expected once I got him home.”
“My apologies, of course,” he offered. “I’ll do my best to extend my apologies in person when, that is if, I see him again.”
I think he appreciates the gravity of my visit, she considered. That easily explains the undercurrent of tension when he answered the door.
“Tell me a little about yourself, Devon,” she encouraged, sitting back in a more relaxed fashion. Her assessment wouldn’t be complete without a better understanding of his background.
Devon settled back in his chair, steepling his fingers before him. “I was born Thadeous Devon Stevens in 1928 near Thomasville, Alabama. My family was part of the working poor, and of course, being African American meant that life was even harder because the jobs were scarce for people of color. My father worked on a road construction crew, and my mother was a seamstress and laundry worker. While in my twenties, I worked odd jobs just about anywhere I could find them. I eventually made my way to Chattanooga by age thirty, where I met a woman while walking down the back alleys on my way back from some late night entertainment.
“Her name was Nadida Kendrick, and after only a brief conversation, she offered me employment as a general laborer at her estate. Her property was vast, one of the largest spreads I’d ever seen at the time. I started as a kind of groundskeeper, but within a matter of months I progressed to helping coordinate the remainder of the staff she employed. I discovered from one of the maids that the previous estate coordinator disappeared abruptly from her employ with no indication why he would’ve left.”
Devon paused, as if collecting his thoughts.
“Ms. Kendrick, as we called her, never came out at daytime, and instead seemed somewhat reclusive, except for occasional socializing a few evenings each week. And though somewhat standoffish to the general public, she was always pleasant around me and the other staff. After about a year of employment, she revealed herself as a vampire to me. I awoke one summer night in 1958 to the sound of shouting coming from the large barn she stabled the horses in. When I went to investigate, I saw a well-dressed man trying to attack her with a pitchfork, so I intervened. Little did I know the lady really hadn’t needed my help, but she seemed touched by my sense of chivalry. It was then I found out what she was,” he said. He paused and looked at Katrina with a curious expression.
“Please, continue,” she encouraged.
“I was scared at first, of course. But she assured me that she meant me no harm, and I began to appreciate how being different was as much a threat to her in a human world as being African American was to me in a predominately Caucasian world. Over a year or more, we grew closer as she observed my trustworthiness and continued loyalty. Eventually, we became lovers. In retrospect, I suppose it wasn’t really true love, per se, but rather an intimate partnership that included the offering of my blood. She encouraged my appreciation for classic literature and helped educate me in some of the finer knowledge of the world. Everything seemed fine until 1963 when that part of the country erupted with the early civil rights uprisings. You see, Nadida was wealthy in her own right, but she was a mulatto. At