tell me what your intentions are with my son?”
Cronin blinked, though he was beginning to see where Alec got his brazen character. He lifted his chin and looked defiantly at Alec’s father. “I am vampire. I’ve lived too long to apologize for such a fact. I feed on the blood of humans and have done for almost thirteen hundred years, but I cannot harm your son. My intentions with regard to Alec are honest, Mr. MacAidan. I want him only to be happy, and it is woven into the fabric of my existence to see him so. He was born to be by my side, and I at his. Whatever fate drew us together I do not know, but I am thankful.”
Kole MacAidan stared at Cronin and blinked slowly. Obviously disregarding the parts about fate and happiness, he said, “Okay. So you kill people for food.”
Cronin answered stoically. “Yes. Typically felons and those who intend to harm others, but yes.”
Kole considered this for a moment. “But you’re Scottish?”
“Yes.”
Kole looked at Alec and smiled. “He’s a Scot!”
Alec was still staring at Cronin, unmistakably mesmerized by the words of fate he’d just said, as though he’d never heard anything so beautiful. “I know, Dad.”
Kole looked back at Cronin. “Thank you for being honest.” He shrugged. “I guess.” He shook his head, much the same way that Alec did. “And I was worried about him bringing home some tattooed punk or a Lakers fan.”
Cronin gave him a smile, and Kole clapped his wide, hard hand on the vampire’s arm. “Can I get you boys something to drink?” he asked, walking off to the small kitchen.
Alec’s brow furrowed. “Ah, Dad. You understood the whole vampire thing, right?”
Kole opened the fridge door and stopped, then turned to face Cronin. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
Cronin slowly walked over to the sofa and sat beside Alec. “Your father took the news better than you did,” he said softly.
Alec smiled at him. “Told you we’re good with weird.”
“I don’t know whether to be thankful or worried,” Cronin whispered. “Your father seemed only concerned that I am Scottish. It pleased him greatly.”
Alec snorted out a laugh just as Kole came back into the room and handed Alec a can of soda. “Okay, then,” Kole said, sitting in the single seat across from them. He looked squarely at Alec. “So, all this happened three days ago? Start from the beginning.”
Over the course of the afternoon, Alec told his father everything he knew. Everything that had happened from him chasing down the first vampire to leaping with Cronin and learning about vampire histories. Alec explained what had happened with the Yersinians—how the Black Plague wasn’t really a plague at all—and how the pyramids found all over the world were ancient burial sites of vampires the world didn’t want to see returned. He explained the recent development with a new breed of Egyptian vampire who was pushing out the old covens, and how it involved something called a key.
“Whatever they’re planning is big, Mr. MacAidan,” Cronin said. “The local Egyptian covens have left Cairo or disappeared, which is akin to rats abandoning a sinking ship. They’re getting out while they can.”
“There’s a meeting of sorts on tonight,” Alec said. “I guess it’s to find out what we can?”
Kole shook his head slowly, the color drained from his face. He swallowed hard. “You said a key ?”
“Yes,” Cronin answered. “A key is the prophetic name given to an item that will see the demise of rogue covens. It is not always the same. The key that saw the demise of the Aztec coven was the Coyolxauhqui Stone. The key that saw the demise of the ancient Illyrians was the humble bow and arrow. You may have heard of the Egyptian ‘nine bows’. As lore sees it told, it was effectively these nine Egyptian vampires alone who saw the Illyrians undone.”
“So this key is not a living thing?” Kole asked. He was still pale, and Cronin wondered if he’d taken
Cronin blinked, though he was beginning to see where Alec got his brazen character. He lifted his chin and looked defiantly at Alec’s father. “I am vampire. I’ve lived too long to apologize for such a fact. I feed on the blood of humans and have done for almost thirteen hundred years, but I cannot harm your son. My intentions with regard to Alec are honest, Mr. MacAidan. I want him only to be happy, and it is woven into the fabric of my existence to see him so. He was born to be by my side, and I at his. Whatever fate drew us together I do not know, but I am thankful.”
Kole MacAidan stared at Cronin and blinked slowly. Obviously disregarding the parts about fate and happiness, he said, “Okay. So you kill people for food.”
Cronin answered stoically. “Yes. Typically felons and those who intend to harm others, but yes.”
Kole considered this for a moment. “But you’re Scottish?”
“Yes.”
Kole looked at Alec and smiled. “He’s a Scot!”
Alec was still staring at Cronin, unmistakably mesmerized by the words of fate he’d just said, as though he’d never heard anything so beautiful. “I know, Dad.”
Kole looked back at Cronin. “Thank you for being honest.” He shrugged. “I guess.” He shook his head, much the same way that Alec did. “And I was worried about him bringing home some tattooed punk or a Lakers fan.”
Cronin gave him a smile, and Kole clapped his wide, hard hand on the vampire’s arm. “Can I get you boys something to drink?” he asked, walking off to the small kitchen.
Alec’s brow furrowed. “Ah, Dad. You understood the whole vampire thing, right?”
Kole opened the fridge door and stopped, then turned to face Cronin. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
Cronin slowly walked over to the sofa and sat beside Alec. “Your father took the news better than you did,” he said softly.
Alec smiled at him. “Told you we’re good with weird.”
“I don’t know whether to be thankful or worried,” Cronin whispered. “Your father seemed only concerned that I am Scottish. It pleased him greatly.”
Alec snorted out a laugh just as Kole came back into the room and handed Alec a can of soda. “Okay, then,” Kole said, sitting in the single seat across from them. He looked squarely at Alec. “So, all this happened three days ago? Start from the beginning.”
Over the course of the afternoon, Alec told his father everything he knew. Everything that had happened from him chasing down the first vampire to leaping with Cronin and learning about vampire histories. Alec explained what had happened with the Yersinians—how the Black Plague wasn’t really a plague at all—and how the pyramids found all over the world were ancient burial sites of vampires the world didn’t want to see returned. He explained the recent development with a new breed of Egyptian vampire who was pushing out the old covens, and how it involved something called a key.
“Whatever they’re planning is big, Mr. MacAidan,” Cronin said. “The local Egyptian covens have left Cairo or disappeared, which is akin to rats abandoning a sinking ship. They’re getting out while they can.”
“There’s a meeting of sorts on tonight,” Alec said. “I guess it’s to find out what we can?”
Kole shook his head slowly, the color drained from his face. He swallowed hard. “You said a key ?”
“Yes,” Cronin answered. “A key is the prophetic name given to an item that will see the demise of rogue covens. It is not always the same. The key that saw the demise of the Aztec coven was the Coyolxauhqui Stone. The key that saw the demise of the ancient Illyrians was the humble bow and arrow. You may have heard of the Egyptian ‘nine bows’. As lore sees it told, it was effectively these nine Egyptian vampires alone who saw the Illyrians undone.”
“So this key is not a living thing?” Kole asked. He was still pale, and Cronin wondered if he’d taken
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