Hillary Kanter - Dead Men Are Easy To Love by Hillary Kanter Page B
Authors: Hillary Kanter
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told him so.
Yes, he and I are different, with unique gifts. But this does not mean we should use them in inappropriate manners.
Rion was less than enthusiastic about my having met Ariel. He has always been jealous of anyone who gets close to me, and change of any kind upsets him. He got so angry during our talk that he once again took the form of a bat and darted out the window.
I am developing strong feelings for Ariel. I never planned on this. She is strong, yet so fragile—a combination I find intoxicating. I sent her a dozen white lilies today. I know she likes them, the same as I know psychically how she feels about other things. What can I say? It’s another of the special gifts attributed to those in my family. Those we care for we can read far better than a mortal man could.
People have no understanding of our ways these days. Very few of us are left. In Transylvania, only two in my family—Rion and I—remain. We have evolved over time, and it is easier to be who we are than it was for our ancestors. For instance, the beliefs that we can only go out after dark and can only drink blood to survive are just not true. Yes, blood is necessary every few days to maintain energy, but we can eat other things as well. And drink other things.
As far as only going out at night? More rubbish. We also go out by day, but we feel best if we rest several nights per month in the soil of our birth.
If one of us were to marry a mortal, he would lose his powers and become mortal himself. He could have children, with one catch: any of those offspring, upon death, would reawaken as a vampire.
Since the epidemic of AIDS, it has been unwise to indulge in the blood of any untested persons. This makes for great difficulty, and explains why I work in a hospital. I saw the recent headlines about the missing blood, and realize I need to be more careful. I have fed off rats many times to avoid suspicion—and will do so again, if necessary. Rion seems to prefer raiding morgues, drinking from the very young or very old to meet his needs. I, myself, find that diabolic.
***
Rion Lucard’s Diary—
Nov. 6, Brasov
My twin brother has met a woman from New York City. Technically, I was the one who met her first—a fact of which I reminded him.
Dalv is still mad that I used my powers at the graveyard. I was simply going in for a closer look at her, and my bumping into her head was accidental. So sue me, okay? Sonar and sight don’t exactly work the same. As far as I’m concerned, if someone has the power to turn into something else at will, why not use it?
Dalv is far too uptight and provincial. What a waste of good talent. He is too soft, and way too involved with this woman. He says he’ll bring her to my house party this Friday night. Goody-goody. Can’t wait.
I promise to be good.
***
Ariel’s Journal—
Nov. 6, Bistriz
Got lovely lilies from Dalv. He is so romantic! I am surprised that he knew they were my favorite, as I did not tell him that. He seems to read my mind about everything.
But there’s something about Dalv I can’t quite put my finger on. I’ve watched for the important things—the good things—and also for the red flags. You can’t be a single woman for as long as I have, without looking for them. He is responsible, caring, and honest, yet there is still something … different about him.
I care for him more each time I see him, and I’ve been seeing him every day. The only negative is that I’m sleeping poorly and still having bad dreams.
And last night, a doubly strange thing happened. Half asleep, I felt a whirring above my head. At first, I thought a bird had gotten into the room. I flipped on the light, only to see that it was not a bird at all but a bat!
My window was open, although I do not remember opening it. I struggled to know what to do. Suddenly, the bat flew out the way it had come in. I closed the window and bolted it.
This morning I told the gentleman at the front desk,
Yes, he and I are different, with unique gifts. But this does not mean we should use them in inappropriate manners.
Rion was less than enthusiastic about my having met Ariel. He has always been jealous of anyone who gets close to me, and change of any kind upsets him. He got so angry during our talk that he once again took the form of a bat and darted out the window.
I am developing strong feelings for Ariel. I never planned on this. She is strong, yet so fragile—a combination I find intoxicating. I sent her a dozen white lilies today. I know she likes them, the same as I know psychically how she feels about other things. What can I say? It’s another of the special gifts attributed to those in my family. Those we care for we can read far better than a mortal man could.
People have no understanding of our ways these days. Very few of us are left. In Transylvania, only two in my family—Rion and I—remain. We have evolved over time, and it is easier to be who we are than it was for our ancestors. For instance, the beliefs that we can only go out after dark and can only drink blood to survive are just not true. Yes, blood is necessary every few days to maintain energy, but we can eat other things as well. And drink other things.
As far as only going out at night? More rubbish. We also go out by day, but we feel best if we rest several nights per month in the soil of our birth.
If one of us were to marry a mortal, he would lose his powers and become mortal himself. He could have children, with one catch: any of those offspring, upon death, would reawaken as a vampire.
Since the epidemic of AIDS, it has been unwise to indulge in the blood of any untested persons. This makes for great difficulty, and explains why I work in a hospital. I saw the recent headlines about the missing blood, and realize I need to be more careful. I have fed off rats many times to avoid suspicion—and will do so again, if necessary. Rion seems to prefer raiding morgues, drinking from the very young or very old to meet his needs. I, myself, find that diabolic.
***
Rion Lucard’s Diary—
Nov. 6, Brasov
My twin brother has met a woman from New York City. Technically, I was the one who met her first—a fact of which I reminded him.
Dalv is still mad that I used my powers at the graveyard. I was simply going in for a closer look at her, and my bumping into her head was accidental. So sue me, okay? Sonar and sight don’t exactly work the same. As far as I’m concerned, if someone has the power to turn into something else at will, why not use it?
Dalv is far too uptight and provincial. What a waste of good talent. He is too soft, and way too involved with this woman. He says he’ll bring her to my house party this Friday night. Goody-goody. Can’t wait.
I promise to be good.
***
Ariel’s Journal—
Nov. 6, Bistriz
Got lovely lilies from Dalv. He is so romantic! I am surprised that he knew they were my favorite, as I did not tell him that. He seems to read my mind about everything.
But there’s something about Dalv I can’t quite put my finger on. I’ve watched for the important things—the good things—and also for the red flags. You can’t be a single woman for as long as I have, without looking for them. He is responsible, caring, and honest, yet there is still something … different about him.
I care for him more each time I see him, and I’ve been seeing him every day. The only negative is that I’m sleeping poorly and still having bad dreams.
And last night, a doubly strange thing happened. Half asleep, I felt a whirring above my head. At first, I thought a bird had gotten into the room. I flipped on the light, only to see that it was not a bird at all but a bat!
My window was open, although I do not remember opening it. I struggled to know what to do. Suddenly, the bat flew out the way it had come in. I closed the window and bolted it.
This morning I told the gentleman at the front desk,
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