With a debonair smile, Chauvelin replied “Quite sure, merci, mademoiselle.”

She smiled back, and stood a few feet behind his chair as Meaux and Bouquet entered.

“You need not worry so much over Monsieur Chauvelin, Jacqueline,” assured Meaux, nearly two hundred, and very wise. He looked not his age in the least. “He’s very strong.”

“Anyone who lives after being drained so heavily by Monsieur Bouquet must be,” she agreed sweetly with her brother. The two got along famously, though she was far younger than he was.

With a sigh, Bouquet settled into a chair opposite Chauvelin, and smiled tiredly.

“You are quite settled in with being a vampire, monsieur?” he asked kindly.

“No,” responded Chauvelin, “but I have come to terms with the fact that I am one. And that is inescapable.”

“Quite right,” agreed Meaux, who’s grey eyes flashed a look in his sister’s direction. She met his gaze, and he knew that she was mostly responsible for making their newest family member see sense. All the same, she said nothing.

“You….you said I could act human again?” Chauvelin asked hopefully.

“Ah! So I did. But that will take time. Quite a bit of time, in fact. But, time is one thing you have in abundance. We’ll start the heavier training once we reach Dieppe. You are getting well quickly, and we will not intrude on good Monsieur Meaux’s kindness too long.”

“Stay as long as you will,” responded Meaux, pouring himself a glass of blood from the decanter. “Jacqueline enjoys the company, don’t you, Soeur?”

She looked at him slyly, realizing what he was getting at. “Yes, indeed.”

Bouquet passed a glance over the other three, and decided to continue. “Just baby steps at a time, you understand. For, vampire wise, you are still a baby.”

Chauvelin clenched a fist. “I shall try to remain disciplined.”

“Ah, good. Make’s it much easier on me,” responded Bouquet with a sigh. “Well, what shall I teach you first?”

Meaux noticed that Chauvelin did look rather tired, so he poured an extra glass and handed it to the weary man. “I would suggest, that as soon as Monsieur Chauvelin has his strength back, you teach him how to drain blood.”

Chauvelin looked slightly sickened at the prospect, but drank from the glass gratefully, and quite a bit of his color returned to his cheeks.

“Oh yes, you’re quite right, Jean Claude, as usual. But not tonight. No, not tonight. Tonight, Monsieur Chauvelin,” he said in slightly dramatic tones, “I will teach you all about what a vampire is; our history – your history – our class, our rules.” Chauvelin stared into the glass in a slightly depressed manner though, and it did not escape Bouquet’s notice. “I know this all seems a bit harsh and terrible now, but I promise, it shall pass. I was once as you are now. You shall come to love being a vampire,” he promised.

“Come, Jacqueline,” ordered Meaux, pouring a little more blood into his glass. “Let us leave the ‘father and son,’ to themselves.”

Jacqueline obediently shadowed her brother out of the parlor, and Bouquet observed that Chauvelin’s eyes followed her out of the room. Bouquet hid a grin, and tried to decide what to speak about first.

“To begin,” he said with a cough. “Vampires can do many things a human can, but it takes time and training to be able to do them without hurting yourself. But you’re strong, Chauvelin. You’ll manage.”

“Can we walk in sunlight?” asked Chauvelin, almost mournfully. How much more would he have appreciated the last bright day he’d seen had he known he would not see one in how many hundreds of years?

“I can,” confirmed Bouquet, “but you cannot. At least not yet.

“Vampire’s life spans are very similar to humans. The first fifty or so, we are but children, and can do little. But, around that time, we hit our own version of adolescence. We begin to truly be able to hone our skills, and develop new ones, like walking in day light, for example. In this stage of life, we need as much blood as we can get, to help us grow.

“After adolescence finishes, which is about fifty years, then we are adults. Now, unlike humans, we remain in our primes for a much, much longer period of time. We remain young and strong until we are about five hundred, when we hit our decline. And then, at about one thousand, most vampires are spent.”

“But…but I thought vampires were immortal?” questioned Chauvelin. “Can they not live for many thousands of years?”

“Oh yes, we can,” assured Bouquet, “but immortality looses it’s charm after so long. It becomes a weary business, being a vampire; constantly stealing others of their blood, maybe even killing them for it, just to stay alive. Life is just as much a fight when you are immortal as when you are mortal, my boy. It never ends.”

“Well…..what do vampires do then, once they grow weary of life?”

“Many kill themselves, but it is not always true.”

“But….how?” he asked, confused. “The sunlight will not hurt them after so long.”

“By wooden stake, generally. The more macabre poison their blood, or tie themselves to a rock and hurl themselves into the ocean, if they’re very dramatic.”

Chauvelin looked down at his glass, near empty, and said nothing, so tired of this odd conversation of odd death.

“And some choose death because the loneliness kills them…..” Bouquet sighed wearily.

“The loneliness?”

“Very few vampires find each other, and those are the only kind of friends that will last you till eternity. What will passing yourself off as a mortal do? It will allow you to make relationships with mortals. But mortals are inconstant, and die. And the more relationships you make, and the more that die off, the heavier the burden of life becomes.”

“Then why can’t vampires only spend time with vampires?”

“Mon Dieu, but it is a hard business finding another vampire! There are probably as many vampires in the world as there are people in Paris, it’s true, but it is a very big world, Chauvelin. A few million vampires, spread across a globe, spreads thinly.”

Chauvelin now rose, and poured blood from the decanter, hating that he drank it, yet loving the blood itself at the same time. That was the price of being a vampire, that still wished so desperately to be human.

“And some vampires do not want to be found,” added Bouquet darkly.

Chauvelin took his seat again, and after drinking a little blood, asked “And why is that?”

“Well, think sensibly about it; it is not a safe business for a vampire to be too widely known as a vampire. If word leaks to mortal ears, a vampire hunt may begin, and there’s enough of that wretched business in Romania, I can assure you. Rest assured, most vampires are relatively harmless. A few kill purposely because they love killing, but the same is true of humans. The guilty are dragged down with the innocent when mortals start hunting out vampires and slaying them.”

“Then what is the point of trying to be like mortals?” asked Chauvelin, rather depressed.

Now Bouquet’s eyes glittered. “The same benefits that mortals have, and not having to pay half of the price.

“Vampires are seductive creatures. Train hard enough, and you can eventually get a mortal to bend to your will by mere thought. Vampires can ooze out charm, can be as smooth and sensual as any mortal lover. We may easily pick and choose our lovers, and get whomever we want. We cannot really have children, of course, except by creating another vampire, but that is probably a good thing.”

Chauvelin’s eyes flashed now in the same way Bouquet’s did. “We can control mortals?”

“Like puppets. We can obtain the riches, the power, the possessions, and we never have to leave it, for we never die. So you see, being a vampire can be marvelous.”

“And what happens if a vampire falls in love with a mortal?”

“Then the vampire sometimes makes them immortal, like themselves. If they do not wish to do that, then they simply must make do with what time is given. But once death comes….. Vampire hearts are just like mortal ones, and must undergo the same – and sometimes harder – trials. Each heart stands it’s own ground and goes it’s own pace. It’s a case by case basis sort of thing; I can tell you nothing more.”

Bouquet yawned now, and noticed that his young “son,” looked tired as well.

“I think it is off to bed with you. It will be dawn in a few hours, and any minute now, Jacqueline is sure to burst in and tell me that I will wear you out far too quickly.” Rising, he extended a hand to Chauvelin, who hesitantly took it. “Welcome to our world, Monsieur Chauvelin. I think you will like it quite a lot.”

And it was at that moment that Mademoiselle Meaux did burst into the room, probably having sat – fidgeting – in a chair in another room until her brother gave her permission to go to her patient’s aid.

“Monsieur Bouquet, the hour is late, and dawn will soon arise,” she said, quickly scurrying over to Chauvelin’s side. “I must insist that you finish this conversation at some later date.” She then looked at Chauvelin, who looked both tired and pale. “You’ve quite worn poor Armand out.” Taking his hand, she assisted him out of the chair. “Come, you should go to bed!” And with that, she led him out of the room and down the hall way.

Smiling, Meaux followed in his sister’s foot steps, and walked into the parlor, where Bouquet stood rather stupefied.

“Armand?” He turned and gave a quizzical look to Meaux. “She’s calling him by his first name, when she’s not known him more than three days!”

Meaux shrugged. “She knows him far better than we do, having sat at his sick bed. It does not matter.”

“It doesn’t worry you? He’s awfully young, especially compared to her. She’s, what, a hundred and fifty?”

“He is older than she was when made a vampire, so in that respect, they sort of equal out. If I worry not, then why should you? For now, nothing will come of it, I promise. If anything, it’s infatuation, and at the most, it’s puppy love.”

Which was true. They found each other charming, and good company, but were hardly in love with one another. Physically, he was thirteen years older than she, but she beat him in life span. They voiced no opinions about if a love affair between the two was possible, but both privately thought they made a sweet pair, as the delicate, beautiful girl helped the tall, dark, strong gentleman down the hall, as sickly as he was.

“But moving on, how did the talk go?”

“Extremely well. I think my young protégé will enjoy being a vampire. And he’ll catch on quickly, I dare say. He’s stronger than most I’ve been fortunate enough to meet.”

Meaux poured himself another glass of blood, and toasted. “Here’s to youth, and whatever innocence it may posses when it’s a vampire.”

Bouquet poured himself a glass, and joined in Meaux’s toast. Next Chapter