“You’ve certainly been honing your skills, my young one.” Irina Sanders’s eyes sparkled with mischief at her grandson. She sat at the kitchen table drinking some hot tea, her silver hair curling around her shoulders as she smiled at him.
“I should have known you were just testing me,” Ian growled as he slowly stood up. “There hasn’t been a day-walker documented for over a century.”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t always be on the alert.” His grandmother motioned him to towards the kitchen counter. “You know where the coffee pot is, dear heart.”
Ian grabbed himself a cup of coffee even though he didn’t feel like having anything to drink. He sat down at the table and just stared into the cup. His grandmother simply sipped her tea and waited. She knew that when her grandson was ready to talk about something, he would. All she had to do was be patient and wait for him to form the words.
“I took care of two more vampires last night.” Ian said quietly.
“That’s nothing new. You’ve handled more than that in one night,” Irina replied. “Was something different?”
“They were working together, Grandmother.” Ian looked up and gazed into her chocolate brown eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like it. They circled me and attacked at the same time. I couldn’t believe it. Vampires never work together.”
“They do sometimes, dear one.” She sighed heavily and took a sip of tea. “Did anything else strange happen?”
“Yes.” Ian felt a chill run down his spin just thinking of the mysterious vampire. “After I had taken care of the two vampires, I turned around, and, out of no where, another one was standing there. The only problem was,” Ian took a deep breath. “I couldn’t sense him.”
“Have you been having nightmares, Ian?” His grandmother’s voice became very serious.
“Yes, for just about a week now. Ever since that night, in fact,” Ian replied without thought. His eyes bulged in shock. “How did you know about that? One of the only things I remember is the word Romani. Do you know what it means?”
“Romani means Gypsy in our language, my child.” His grandmother reached out and took onto his hand. “I think it’s time for you to be told some things.”
#
Stefan Renaldi growled as he paced back and forth across the family study. Images of the robed hunter had been plaguing him for over a week, and he couldn’t understand why. Felicia Renaldi stood poised in the study’s doorway, watching her son. It had been many years since she had seen him so worked up.
“Are you ready to tell me what is on your mind yet, my child?” Her silken voice floated through the elegant room.
“I encountered a Romani in the cemetery last weekend.” Stefan refused to make eye contact with his mother.
“So the Gypsies finally found their way to our small town.” Felicia took a seat on the leather sofa. “You are well aware that they cannot sense you. Their family can only sense one of the soulless. You know as well as I do that the only way to lose your soul, and your humanity, is to kill someone. Have you murdered someone, my child?”
“You know very well that I have not,” Stefan snarled at his mother, his fangs breaking through his gums as his anger erupted.
“I advise you to calm down, my son. You may be centuries old, but I can still put you across my knee, if necessary,” Felicia warned. She patted the open seat beside her. “Stefan, come sit down and tell me what is really bothering you. You have never feared the Romani before.”
“I felt drawn to the hunter, Mama.” Stefan dutifully sat down. He felt his mother’s hand as it came to rest on his shoulder. “I could not see his eyes, but I felt my skin burn as his gaze locked onto me. It felt as if I was falling, and I did not want it to stop.”
“Wait a moment.” Felicia’s hand tightened its grip on her son’s shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘he’? The hunters have always been women.”
“I can not say for certain that it was a man because of that damn robe.” Stefan growled, again. “This hunter was tall, Mother. At least an inch taller than I am. I have never met a woman that tall. Besides that fact, the hunter seemed to have a broad, muscular build under his robe. So, unless he are using his Romani magic to cloak his appearances, this hunter did not have breasts.”
“A man is hunting?” Felicia’s face was paler than normal. She pushed a strand of her midnight black hair back. “This is not good, my son. A male Gypsy has never hunted our kind. He may possess powers we have never heard of. What if he can sense us as well as the soulless?”
“Calm down, Mama.” Stefan laid his hand over hers on his shoulder. “I told you that he could not sense me. When he turned to face me in the graveyard, his body language showed how shocked he was to see me standing there. Besides, he did not burn me on sight. Something strange passed between us, and I can not put my finger on it. It almost felt like I knew him.”
“You are to avoid this man at all costs,” Felicia ordered her child. “This may be some new Gypsy trick, and I would throw myself into the sun if anything ever happened to you.”
“You worry too much. I will be careful,” Stefan assured his mother. He watched as she rose from the couch and moved towards the door. She was so graceful, it almost appeared like she was floating, but, then again, knowing his mother, she might very well have been.
“I will speak to your father about this. We will need to warn the rest of the family.” Felicia smiled at her child. “Remember my warning. Avoid this Romani at all costs.”
Stefan watched as his mother closed the door to the study, leaving him to his own thoughts. He began to pace again because his body would not be still. Something was pulling at the back of Stefan’s mind, but he just couldn’t figure out what it was. His thoughts returned to his mother’s warning.
“I’m sorry, Mama, but I have to find out what is going on. Forgive me.” Stefan’s voice echoed in the room.
#
“What things do I need to know?” Ian’s heart nearly stopped at the serious tone in his grandmother’s voice.
“I think it is time for you to learn about the curse that created the vampires,” Irina said as she stroked the back of her grandson’s hand.
“Grandmother, Papa told me those stories when I was young.” Ian sighed. He didn’t feel like sitting through another retelling of his family’s history. “A gypsy girl was supposed to be married to a boy in another tribe. She betrayed her family and ran off with someone else. Our family cursed the boy’s family as revenge.”
“Do not take that bored tone with me, child.” Irina was clearly irritated. “That load of rubbish your father told you is not the true story.”
“What do you mean?” Ian wasn’t sure what his grandmother was talking about. “Everyone in the family has told the story of the curse, and it was always the same.”
“You are well aware of the fact that you birth was very special.” Irina smiled at her grandson. “The first male child born in the family for centuries. The first male to be born since the curse. Your foolish relatives were afraid of history repeating itself, so they created the story to tell you.”
“But why tell me now?” Ian asked.