"You're still Christian. Beneath what you are, it's still you." Her hands trembled, the amulet searing into her skin even as the words left her lips.
"Victoria, I am not that boy anymore." Christian's laugh was jarring, the ugly sound echoing in the room. "I'm not him. This"—he gestured at himself—"body is not alive. It's a dead monster that steals life from others. Didn't you see what I am?"
"Christian." She said his name so quietly that it gentled him even before she placed both hands on his side of his head. "I know what you are, I saw it. What I am trying to tell you is that I also saw how you feel about me. And I know you would never hurt me."
"But what if—"
"You won't." A smile lit her face. "You may have just met your match. There's no way you could get past my magical defenses!" Then her tone got serious, and she said quietly, "Don't forget what I am, Christian." It was the first time that Victoria had ever acknowledged what she was to him, and the act frightened and liberated her all at the same time.
"The laws—" Christian began. She placed a hand against his mouth.
"Some laws need to be broken."
Christian kissed her palm and pulled her into his arms with a smothered laugh, giving in to the silent ache that had been his constant companion for weeks. He brushed the hair off her temple.
"Thank you," he said softly.
"For what?"
"For not running."
"A wise friend once told me, 'you are who you are.'" Victoria traced a line from the scar on the corner of his eyebrow across his cheekbone. "I know what you are, but I also know who you are too. And the 'who' is the part that defines us."
Christian stared at her with an enigmatic expression. "You are extraordinary."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Well, I'm not exactly normal either."
Despite her brave words, fear slunk around her insides. Though she refused to reconcile the thing she'd seen with him, a part of her knew that they were one and the same. Deep down, it terrified her. Memories of monsters with sharp teeth and red eyes skulking in the bowels of her closets filled her head. But that wasn't him, she told herself fiercely. She knew it wasn't him. Just as what she'd learned about herself, was not all of who she was. Still, she shivered.
"Who was the little man who served us?"
"That's Anton. He's my caretaker, you could say. His wife cleans and he also takes care of the gardens. They live in a small guest house at the far end of the property."
"Do they know?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Yes, I suspect so, after all, it's not like they see me eat food on a regular basis." Christian flashed his perfect white smile at his joke. "Don't worry, their family has worked for my family in France for years."
"So how old are you really then?"
"I was born in 1816, so you could say a couple of centuries give or take a few years."
"Omigod, a geriatric!" Victoria grinned, then sobered. "How did you—" She broke off, unable to phrase the question. Christian nodded; he didn't have to read her thoughts to know what she was asking.
"It's a long story. And you're tired."
"That's okay, I'm comfortable," she said, stifling a yawn.
Christian looked at her once with an enigmatic expression then started his tale.
"My father was Charles Beaumaris, the Duke of Avigny, a cousin to King Louis XVI. In 1792, my family fled France at the direction of Marie Antoinette for fear of assassination. They lived for a while in Austria, and then spent several years in Louisiana, New York, and Boston. Lucian, my brother, and I were born in 1816 in New York. My family returned to France three years after the abdication of Napoleon." Christian took a deep breath and continued, knowing he had just finished the easy part, the easy human part.
"Because of my family's connections with Louis-Philippe, who was then king, in the summer of 1835 my brother and I were kidnapped and tortured by the very same people who attempted to assassinate him later that same summer. We were nineteen. They wanted information on his whereabouts and beat us to within an inch of our lives, leaving us for dead in an alley. It was the last thing I remember then, waking up ravenous days later ... but not for food ..." He looked at Victoria almost apologetically. She motioned for him to continue. "The people who had found us were vampires. They knew who we were and at first, they were only going to take one of us, but in the end they turned us both."
"It was hard for me, but Lucian bore the mantle as if he had been born to their world. He reveled in the changes and became a willing servant of the blood. I did not. I could not. We were charismatic, young, and immortal. He wanted to conquer. I wanted to learn and remember what it was like to love, how to be human."