She quirked a brow. “And the Sortiari are…?”
“They are the influencers of Fate, or so they claim. A secret society that has infiltrated every aspect of the world as we know it and whose assassins have been known to hide behind the cloister. For millennia the Sortiari have taken it upon themselves to fulfill what they believe is a divine purpose: changing the course of Fate. The supernatural community isn’t their only target. Politicians, religious figures, humanitarians, criminals … Anyone or anything that goes against their agenda is a potential target.”
“Holy shit,” Claire said with a disbelieving laugh. “Is this a Dan Brown novel come to life or what?” Her expression became serious as she studied Michael with an intensity that heated his blood. “So why do they want me dead? I’m not rich. Not powerful. I’ve got about ten bucks to my name and I’m a waitress. Aside from my blood, which you seem to think is pretty dynamite, there’s nothing special about me.”
“Claire, I don’t think you understand your importance.” How could she? Michael pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a slow breath. “I am the last vampire. If I should die, the race dies with me.” How could he possibly explain to her how much she meant to him? To all of them? “You are my mate. The female who has returned my soul to me and awakened the seat of my power. Because of this, I can turn dhampirs. They can finally become what they’re meant to be. The Sortiari spent centuries trying to eradicate the vampire race. You are the only thing standing between them and success.”
Claire focused her attention on her plate, her brow furrowed. “How is a dhampir made?”
Michael took a monster bite of pancake and chewed for a quiet moment. “Dhampirs are born. Either from a vampire mating or a vampire/human coupling.”
“What about a dhampir coupling?” Her curiosity was a boon to his confidence. Perhaps if he did as she asked and armed her with information he could convince her to stay.
“Dhampir males are sterile,” he replied. “Until we’re made vampires, we are unable to reproduce.”
“Wait.” Her dubious smile caused his abdomen to tighten. Gods, how he wanted her. “How is that even possible? Vampires are dead. Or undead. Aren’t you?”
Michael gave an amused snort. “Our physiology is much more complex than even modern science could comprehend. When a dhampir is made into a vampire, his soul is sent into oblivion. It’s the price that’s paid for becoming stronger and developing keener senses. In a way, a vampire’s body does essentially become undead. Our hearts cease beating; the breath stalls in our chests. Blood no longer flows through our veins and we no longer need food to sustain us. But there is a hunger. A thirst for blood that must be sated. And when a vampire drinks from a living vein, our bodies awaken, resume their normal functions until the lifeblood cycles through our system. In most cases, a vampire needs to drink from either his mate or a dhampir to thrive. Human blood isn’t enough to sustain us. After the blood works through our systems, the vampire’s body returns to dormancy until the thirst returns and the cycle starts anew.”#p#分页标题#e#
Claire’s answering smile dazzled him. “Creepy. And sort of cool. I’m pretty sure any scientist would shit a brick to get his hands on you.” Her playful tone tied Michael into knots, sent a rush of desire through his veins. “You said human blood isn’t enough. I’m human. But you seem to think mine is like the Red Bull of blood.”
Michael laughed. “It is. To me. It’s the mate bond that makes it so. Claire, when a soul is sent into oblivion, it doesn’t simply float away. It attaches itself to another soul. In this case, yours. Through the centuries your soul anchored mine, and when you were born you took it with you. When I saw you, you returned my soul to me. You tethered me. We are two halves of a whole. It’s a bond that can’t ever be broken.”
Claire pushed her plate away as though she’d lost her appetite. A wave of anxiety crested over Michael. He’d hoped his honesty would draw her closer to him, invite her trust, not push her away. “To think of my soul as some infinite thing, hanging out in the universe until I was born, goes a little deeper than I usually like to think. I mean, that my soul would have reached out and grabbed on to yours? Sort of a fairy tale, don’t you think? I’ve got to be honest with you, I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago.” A moment of silence stretched out between them and Michael’s chest ached with her sorrow. His fangs throbbed in his gums as he was possessed with an urge to rip the throat from anyone who would do her harm. “So”—she cleared the thick emotion from her throat—“does becoming a vampire mark some sort of uh … sexual maturity?”