“Only I seemed to have humanity. I stayed with Willem for nearly a hundred years, traveling all across Europe and Asia. Most of other vampires we encountered had some sense of decency and control. Most tended to be cold and cruel, like Willem, but not animals, like the slaves Willem made. As time went on, the other vampires would comment on how wonderful and amazing it was that Willem had managed to create a slave as civil as me.

“That’s when it finally occurred to me that I wasn’t like them. What had happened with my wife had been a direct result of Willem’s manipulation. I could control myself, and I had openly wept for my wife and my children. I was not a monster, although I was capable of being one if I let myself.” He exhaled deeply and looked on me for a moment.

“What happened?” I asked when he didn’t speak.

“One night, I simply killed Willem, and I left to start a life of my own,” Ezra said. “I had made some acquaintances through him that I thought were compassionate, and with them, I managed to learn things about myself and other vampires. They were impressed that I had been able to do what I had done without instruction.

“When you first turn, it is so easy to let emotion and instinct rule your life. It’s a constant battle for years that’s nearly impossible without another vampire coaching you along.”

“I know how hard all of that was for you,” Jack said carefully, and then shook his head. “Okay, no. I don’t. I can’t even imagine all the things you went through. But what happened to you isn’t anything like what’s happening here. Nobody’s going to throw Milo or Alice in the basement and tell them to just figure it out.”

“It’s not a risk I am willing to take,” Ezra said. “I have seen vampires gnaw at their own arms because they haven’t fed in days. I’ve seen them slaughter children. Alice and Milo might never be that extreme, but they could turn out like Willem. He was in complete control of himself, but he was cruel and merciless.”

“Don’t you think Willem was probably like that before he turned?” Jack asked. “I mean, Mae was all love and maternal instinct before she turned, and she still is. And I was a clumsy idiot, and I still am. Milo and Alice aren’t tyrannical or malicious.”

“Left unchecked, Milo’s jealousy could’ve gotten out of control. He could’ve killed her by now. But because you were able to devote all your time to his cause, look,” Ezra nodded at us. “You’re completely safe to kill her yourself.”

“Haha,” Jack said dryly.

“You will have all the time in the world,” Ezra said. “What are a few more years in comparison with eternity? I’m asking that we err on the side of caution. Wouldn’t you rather wait then have something go terribly awry?”

“But there’s nothing to be cautious about!” Jack was growing exasperated.

“I’m sorry, but the plane ride has exhausted me, as has this conversation.” Ezra stood up, blithely stretching his limbs. “I’m going to turn in for the night, and I suggest you do the same.”

When he left, we sat in silence. I thought of everything he had said, and Ezra had a point. But so did Jack. The odds of me or Milo turning into crazed fiends seemed unlikely, but waiting wouldn’t really hurt anything either.

Eventually, Jack pulled back on his tee shirt, and I excused myself, heading to his room for a night of sleeping alone.

Of course, it wouldn’t be an easy sleep, not after everything the night had held. It was full of endless dreams of Ezra and his lovely wife and small, towheaded children that looked like small versions of him. Then I would see their faces, contorting with fear, as they were splashed with their mother’s blood.

Ezra, the most contained person I had ever met, had been so out of control that he had nearly murdered his own children. What hope did that leave for any of us?

Jack took me home just after midnight the next night, citing that I needed to start getting to bed at a reasonable time for school. With less than a week to fix my sleep cycle, it didn’t seem possible, but that’s not why he really took me home.

After the kiss, and then Ezra’s rather unfortunate story, Jack had seemed oddly distant. He still talked to me, but when he put in a movie, he made sure to sit on the far side of the room.

Without Milo constantly straightening up combined with me spending more time at home, the apartment was rather messy. Not enough where Mom would scream at me about it, but enough where I noticed it and decided to do something about it.

I put Fall Out Boy on the stereo and went about picking things up. After that, I took a long shower and crawled into bed. It was still much too early to sleep, at least for me, so I pulled out A Brief History of Vampyres, the biography supposedly written by Peter.

After detailing his own experiences with turning, including graphic descriptions of watching other vampires turn, the next chapter was entitled “Vampyres and the Earth.” I was glad to be done with talk of turning. He wrote one particularly disturbing passage where he recalled seeing a young man’s stomach bubble and move as he screamed.

The following chapter opened with a beautiful description of a sunrise and a poem called “Sunrise on the Hills” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. In his youth, Peter was apparently obsessed with the sun.

It appeared to be a vampire’s one true weakness, and he struggled to understand it. He would spend hours out in the bright afternoon light, trying to discover what exactly it did to him.

“I would bask in the sun, like an afternoon cat, leaving as much of my flesh uncovered as modesty would allow. The rays of light burned heavy on my skin and my muscles started to drain. My energy weakened, my thoughts muddled, but in complete contrast with that, my heart beat grew stronger and faster.

“When I returned to the darkness and proceeded to slumber, once I awoke, all of the effects would be erased. My skin never even changed its hue.

“What precisely did the sun do to me, then? When I asked my fellow vampyres, they speculated very little on the subject. The most informed answer came from my mentor, who said, ‘It does a man well to stay in the light, and a vampyre to stay out of it.’ The anatomy of a vampyre remains such a mystery that the best we can come up with is merely that the light weakens us.

“But what if I were to stay in the sun always? If I were to exist as a normal man would, sleeping during the night and awaking during the day, what would the outcome be? The sun only seems to dull all our senses, lessening them to the point of mere humans.