He was young, or at least he looked it. Shoulder-length curling brown hair, big dark puppy-dog eyes, flawless, faintly golden skin. Frozen at the age of maybe twenty-five, just enough for creases to be forming at the corners of his eyes. Also, he was really really ... Pretty.
And he didn't look sick. Not at all.
"I've been waiting for you, " he said. He spoke English, but with some kind of accent, nothing that Claire could identify. It sounded a little bit like Irish, a little bit like Scottish, but more ... Liquid, somehow. Welsh? "Claire, is it? Well, come forward, girl, I won't bite. " He smiled, and unlike Amelie's cool attempt it was a warm, genuine expression, full of merriment. Claire took a couple of steps toward him. She sensed Amelie tensing behind her, and wondered why. Myrnin seemed okay. Seemed more okay than any vampire she'd seen so far, except maybe Sam, Michael's grandfather -- next to Michael, the youngest vampire in Morganville.
"Hello, " she said, and got an even wider smile.
"She speaks! Excellent. I have no use for someone without a backbone. Tell me, young Claire, do you like the sciences?"
That was an antique way of saying it ... The sciences. People usually said science or mentioned a specific thing, like biology or nuclear studies or chemistry. Still, she knew the right answer. "Yes sir. I love the sciences. "
His dark eyes glittered, full of slightly wicked humor. "So very polite, you are. And philosophy?"
"I -- I don't know. We didn't study it in high school. I just got to college. "
"Science without philosophy is nonsense, " he said, very seriously. "And alchemy? Do you know anything of it?"
She just shook her head to that one. She knew what it meant, but wasn't it all about turning lead into gold or something like that? Sort of con man science?
Myrnin looked tragically disappointed. She almost wanted to lie to him and tell him that she'd gotten an A in Alchemy 101.
"Don't be difficult, Myrnin, " Amelie said. "I told you, this age doesn't regard the subject with much respect. You won't find anyone with a working knowledge of the Hermetic arts, so you'll have to use what's available. From all accounts, this girl is quite gifted. She should be able to understand what you have to teach, if you are patient. "
Myrnin nodded soberly and put the book aside. He stood up -- and up -- and up. He was tall, gawky, with long legs and arms -- like a human stick bug. He was wearing a weird mixture of clothes, too -- not homeless-guy weird, but definitely funky. A vertically striped knit shirt under what looked like some kind of frock coat, and blue jeans, old ones, with holes in the knees. And flip-flops. Claire stared at his exposed toes. Somehow, with that outfit, flip-flops looked almost indecent.
But he had pretty feet.
He extended his hand to Claire, bending over to do it. She carefully took it and shook. Myrnin looked surprised, then delighted. He pumped the handshake enthusiastically enough to make her shoulder ache. "A handshake, is that the correct way to greet these days?" he asked. "Even for such a lovely young woman? I know it's common among men, but among women it seems quite a violent gesture -- "