and dust. Life in death.”

“Impertinence in youth,” Abraham grumbled. He sat back down, and Two found that she could barely recall his image, as if her mind had blotted it out. She remembered a heavy head of hair, complemented by large eyebrows and a beard. Had he been young? Old? She couldn’t tell. Only that he was huge. Taller and broader than Theroen, thick through the shoulders, muscular. A dangerous man even as a human, let alone in his current state.

“I speak only what you have taught, father,” Theroen said. He took a step forward into the room, gently pulling Two with him. Abraham chuckled. The sound was bitter, cynical. There was no humor in it.

“Ahh. My first thought was, he lied in every word. It does not suite you, Theroen.”

“I am no liar, father. No cripple.”

“Oh yes? Well. No cripple, anyway, as well you prove out there, traipsing about in the mortal world, driving your fast cars, laying with your women in patches of grass.” He looked at Two with a raised eyebrow. Two made an effort to return the gaze, succeeded. The vampire laughed again.

“So brave,” his voice was quiet, contemplative. “Why is she not finished?”

Thereon paused a moment, and Two sensed that the next few moments were critical.

“Her previous... employer. He forced things upon her against her will. Many things, one of which was a drug.”

“She is impure?”

“The change will cleanse her.”

“And what drug is this?”

“Heroin, father. Do you know it?”

“Opium, yes?”

“Processed chemically, but yes.”

“She is unclean, Theroen.”

“She is pure in heart, father. She is pure in soul. The blood will strip her of mortal needs, mortal addictions, mortal weaknesses.”

“So sure?” There was dark humor in the old vampire’s voice.

Theroen said nothing.

“No, you are not sure. Not sure at all, my impetuous fledgling. Yet you do not answer my question. Why is she not finished?”

“I did not know we were susceptible to such things. The drug is still too recent in her veins. It ... It made me quite ill.”

The vampire screamed laughter at this, rocking back in his chair. Two wanted to cover her ears with her hands. The sound went on and on, madness and hate and anger disguised as humor, as anything so remotely human.

And then, abruptly, stopped.

“Oh, my. ‘Quite ill’ indeed, I’ve no doubt. That drug, Theroen, more than any other, is poison to our kind. It would likely have killed a lesser creation. You are Eresh-Chen, though. You seem to have recovered.”

Theroen nodded.

Abraham turned his attention to Two, caught her in his eyes. “Come to me, my dear.”

Two felt her feet moving, almost against her own will. She heard Theroen draw in a breath, but he said nothing. Two understood now that Theroen felt no fear for himself, held no question of his own safety, but that he feared for hers very greatly. The final moment of the interview had come, judgment was to be handed down, and what Abraham might deem proper was as unfathomable as his deep, black eyes.

Two stood next to him at the chair, terrified, gasping for breath but unable to move away. Unable to look away. Abraham reached out, touched his finger to her forehead. The contact brought with it a jolt like electricity. Two gasped, nipples instantly hard, warmth between her legs once more awake and throbbing.

“You enjoy?” The vampire laughed at her. Two felt dizzy. She was hyperventilating; couldn’t help it.

“A taste, Theroen, of this tainted blood?” He questioned, and his voice mocked Theroen, mocked them both. She was his for the taking, all three knew it, but he found the formality deliciously, darkly entertaining.

“If you must, father.” Theroen’s voice was strained. Abraham seemed to smile at this, as if he approved of both the acceptance and the clear hatred in the voice of his creation.

“It is always such, my son, when this comes. She will break your heart.”

“So be it,” Theroen said, and Abraham grinned broadly. He touched his finger lightly to Two’s shoulder, and her knees buckled. She fell to the floor, looking up, enraptured, terrified. His fingers now under her chin, like those of a lover, raising, exposing the pale neck below. Two gasped, panted, black spots appearing before her eyes. She was dimly aware that she was weeping, and that the warmth below her waist had become a roaring blaze.

The vampire leaned his head down, settled the points of his teeth against her neck, waited. Just as before, the moment stretched out into eternity. The world became surreal, painted in shades