awful .
She opened her mouth to reply and then closed it, completely at a loss for words. She reached up to scratch her ear. “So, it’s just you and your brothers: Saxson and Santias?”
“Santos,” he corrected.
“ Santos ,” she repeated. Well, this was getting more and more awkward by the moment. She was just about to excuse herself to use the restroom, maybe try to kill a couple hours by soaking in the jetted tub, when Ramsey cleared his throat.
“There are very few families intact in Dark Moon Vale, at least not from the earlier generations.” He paused, and it really looked like he was trying. “While tragic, my story isn’t that uncommon.”
Despite herself, Tiffany asked the next obvious question: “Why is that?”
He seemed to settle back into his own skin, as if it required a great amount of shifting to answer. “How much do you know about the history of the house of Jadon?”
Tiffany softened her voice. “Um, some, I guess. Not much.”
He nodded then. “How much do you want to know?”
She laughed nervously, and then she thought about his parents, what he had just told her. No doubt, the history had a lot to do with who Ramsey Olaru was, and if this was her fate, as impossible as it was to reconcile that fact in the present moment, the least she could do was try to understand what had made him who he was. “I’d like to know,” she said, wishing she sounded more like her usual, confident self.
He nodded. And then he ran his hand through his hair and slowly exhaled. “Back in 800 BC, at the time of the original Curse, things were… a lot different than they are now.”
Tiffany leaned forward in her seat. “How so?” It was a sort of silly question, but she wanted to keep him talking.
“The vampires. The culture. Life.” He settled into his stance as if sinking deeper into the conversation, and she waited quietly for him to continue. He sighed heavily; again, as if it were an enormous amount of information to try and organize in his mind, let alone convey, while standing at the threshold of Tiffany’s new office. “Right after the males were cursed,” he began, “there was nothing but chaos, confusion, and bloodlust.”
Her palms began to sweat.
She could only imagine.
“You gotta think about it from the point of view of those who were there.” He reached into his pocket, drew out a small sterling-silver case with the letters RDO engraved in the front, from which he withdrew a toothpick , and stuffed it between his full, sculptured lips. Turning back to the subject at hand, he continued. “For centuries, they had been privileged beings, half human, half celestial, favored by the gods; then just like that”—he snapped his fingers—“they were turned into these supernatural creatures with all these strange and powerful abilities. But mostly, they were just overwhelmed with bloodlust. Absolutely crazed and out of control.”
Tiffany tried to envision what that would have looked like, been like, but it was hard. “What did they do? I mean, right after it happened?”
Ramsey chuckled low in his throat. “Oh, they preyed on humans; they destroyed each other; and they died by the hundreds.”
Tiffany glanced away, slowly shaking her head. What a statement. “I don’t completely understand. I mean, some of it is obvious, but… ” Her voice trailed off, and Ramsey shrugged.
He glanced out the window and stared off into the distance, as if he was seeing the picture in his mind. “First, it depends on which house you’re talking about, Jadon’s or Jaegar’s, and you have to keep in mind: There were no formal houses back then, just half-crazed men— males —who had pledged their allegiance to one prince or the other. The followers of Jadon blamed Jaegar’s supporters for the Curse, and the followers of Jaegar blamed Jadon’s loyalists for the same. So it was pretty much open season.”
Tiffany nodded. It made sense. She decided to ask about the house of Jaegar
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