A Hidden Fire
Page 54“What about your sire? Is he—”
“She, actually. And my sire is no longer living.”
She could sense from the look in his eyes that it wasn’t something the normally open vampire wanted to talk about, so she changed the subject.
“Did you ever, I mean, do vampires ever turn people that they love? Like, if your wife had been living—”
“I wouldn’t have turned her myself,” he said quickly. “Well, not if I knew the consequences of it. It’s not a romantic connection, Beatrice. The feelings really are more paternal, so it’s not an ideal situation if a vampire falls in love with a human and they're turned.”
“Why not?”
“If the human does choose to become immortal, they would have to be turned by a vampire other than their lover, and then that other vampire would have a very strong connection and influence over the one turned. Your feelings toward your sire run very deep, positive or negative. It could become quite complicated.”
She looked down at the desk. “Right. I guess that makes sense,” she said quietly. She opened her e-mail and busied herself checking the news online. Carwyn was silent, but she could still feel him watching her.
“You know,” he said suddenly. “All my children are earth vampires. It runs in families that way.”
“Oh really?” she said as she typed.
“Yes, it’s almost unheard of for a vampire to sire out of their element. Water from water. Earth from earth. Wind from wind, and so forth.”
“Except for fire.” Her eyes darted up to find Carwyn watching her.
“Oh really?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Yes, they tend to just pop up like the bastard redhead every now and then. Anyone can sire them. Water, Air, Earth. Very unpredictable. Bit of a shame, of course.”
She leaned back, curious to see where the clever priest was going with his train of thought. “And why is it a shame?”
“Let’s just say I’m glad I’m not a fire vamp.” His voice dropped. “Glad to never have sired one, either.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, almost afraid to ask her next question.
“And why is that?”
He put his feet down and rested his arms on the desk. She watched him, transfixed by his vivid blue eyes as the air around her became charged. When he finally spoke, his voice had a low, hypnotic quality to it.
“You see, Beatrice, it’s a dangerous thing to wield fire. Dangerous for yourself, and dangerous for those around you. More than one sire—even a good one—will kill a son or daughter that shows the affinity toward fire almost immediately.”
“Why—”
“But,” she stuttered, “Gio—”
“Those that do live are usually very gifted, and very strong,” he continued. “And their sires will take advantage of that. Because if you control a fire vampire , Beatrice, you control a very, very powerful weapon.”
Her chest was constricted as she absorbed the implication of what Carwyn was saying. “Did Gio’s sire—”
“Now, I would never want that life for a child of mine. I’d never abuse my influence like some would; but even without my interference, to live in peace, my son or daughter would have to develop almost inhuman self-control.”
Like him, she thought, suddenly gaining new perspective on Giovanni’s dispassionate demeanor.
“And you’d have to be very careful how you used your power. Ironically…you’d probably seem a little cold to most people.”
She flashed back to the heat that poured off Giovanni when he held her. What would have happened if he’d lost control? What had Carwyn written to her?
‘Opposite. Of. Frosty.’
“No, I wouldn’t want to be a fire vampire, because if I managed to live—and wasn’t manipulated as a powerful weapon by the one who made me—I’d most likely live a very lonely life,” Carwyn said quietly. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
She nodded and cleared her throat a little. “I understand.”
“So,” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “If you ever had a fire vampire for a child, do you think…they’d always be alone?”
He shrugged and smiled a little. “I think that all things are possible for him who believes.”
She smiled. “Oh yeah?”
“And I also believe that love can work miracles.”
“Love?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “What about friendship? Can that work miracles, too?”
Carwyn rolled his eyes. “Silly B, love is friendship…just with less clothes, which makes it far more brilliant.”
She burst into laughter, glad he had finally broken the tension that hovered between them. “You are the most ridiculous man I have ever met. And maybe the worst priest.”