could be a priest? I ask you... how could I not?”

Two looked at him, somewhat astounded. A vision from God? She knew how it would be considered in this modern era: a vision from the subconscious. Nothing more.

Thereon grinned, picking this thought from her mind as he so frequently did.

“Is there any real difference? I woke. I moved. I spoke. Are these things not miraculous?” He paused, looked out the window, seemed to ponder for a moment. He looked back at Two and shrugged.

“People do not survive comas of that duration unfazed. There is brain damage, if not death. Yet I was fine. More than fine; I awoke with the clearest sense of purpose I was ever to feel, until the moment I first laid eyes on you. Ten years old, I began my studies. Three years younger than any before accepted to the clergy. Such was my fervor, so overwhelming my knowledge of the Bible within only a few months from when I awakened, that there was simply no choice.”

“And oh, how my father despised it...” the words trailed off, a bitter smile at his lips.

Two was about to speak when the howling began. She jerked around instinctively, knocking a pretty crystal ballerina off the table by her chair. It thumped into the plush carpet, unhurt, unnoticed. Two stared out the window. In the reflection of the lamplight she saw Theroen shake his head. He reached down to pick up the figurine, studied it for a moment, set it back on the table. More howling, and Theroen looked toward the window again, his eyes full of remorse and pity.

“What is it, Theroen? I’ve heard it before.”

“I am Abraham’s son. Melissa his daughter. That? That is nothing more than a diabolical experiment. Daughter? How could she be? To say so denotes some sort of humanity, and all of that has been lost.”

Two looked at him, confused. “There’s another vampire?”

“There are many others. Of Abraham’s line, though, there is only one more to tell of. One more you have not met. An attempt which should never have occurred. His arrogance...” Theroen trailed off. Two had rarely seen him truly angry, but he appeared so now. He shook his head again.

“Her name was Tori. She seems still to respond to that, so that is what we call her. Aside from the shape of her body, this is the last piece of humanity she retains. I do not know why Abraham chose to make her. After Melissa... how he could possibly have expected a normal fledgling, I do not know. I don’t think he really did. I think he simply wanted to know what would happen.

“I took the girl from her school. I brought her to him. I did not ask any questions of Abraham, and am not sure I would have even if I had known what he planned. Not then. Now? Who knows?

“His blood is too powerful. The curse of our line... we make few fledglings, and have a limited window in which to do it. Abraham was nearly too old when he made me. Yet even after Melissa, he gave his blood to this girl. He gave it to her very quickly, nearly drowned her in it, and it destroyed her mind. She is, in some respects, the perfect vampire. Alert, aware, incredibly fast, stronger even than Melissa, who is many years her senior.”

Theroen glanced again out the window, then back at Two, smiling without humor. “Tori can be counted on for three things. She loves to hunt, she loves to kill, and she loves to -- as mortals so callously put it -- fuck. It is appropriate terminology. There is no love involved for her.”

“Another vampire with an active sex life...” Two raised an eyebrow.

“It’s an uncommon strain, even among our type, but it seems to have lain dormant in Abraham. He himself is incapable of that mortal act of love. Yet his children, all three of us, are very much alive below the waist. These pleasures pale, of course, to that of feeding, but when mixed together appropriately...” And here he glanced at Two, “They can be quite pleasurable indeed.”

“Will I get to meet Tori?”

Theroen grimaced. “Yes. At some point, I suppose, it’s inevitable.”

Two was contemplating Theroen’s description of Tori, neither speaking, when she sensed a third presence in the room. She looked up at Theroen, who closed his eyes and sighed. His expression was grim.

At the door stood Melissa, and yet not Melissa. She looked different, somehow.