Her stomach lurched, and she held her head in her hands. Cripes, it was worse than a hangover. She must have fainted. She’d been so cold, but now she felt better.
Her stomach lurched again, and she closed her eyes.
Better was a relative term. At least she wasn’t cold anymore. In fact, now she was sweating.
Keeping one hand on the bed for support, she carefully inched her way over to the heater and shut it off.
The door opened. Matthias carried a paper bag. The smell of food sent her stomach into a conflicted battle of ravenous hunger versus gut-twisting nausea.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I think.”
He turned the light on, and she winced then looked at the burgers he unpacked on the desk. They weren’t supposed to have food in the cabins, but she figured Matthias wasn’t worried about bears.
That was the least of their concerns.
“What happened?” She took a cheeseburger from him and picked at it, trying to settle her stomach.
He sat next to her. “You fainted at West Thumb.”
And before he could tell her the rest, she reached out with her mind and saw what happened, saw him trying to bring her around, calling her name, his face tight with panic—
“Oh my God, I’ve killed her, what have I done?”
—and then relief when he realized she was breathing, how he ran with her in his arms to the Land Rover, turning the heat up full blast despite how he was sweating, tucking his jacket around her, talking to her, trying to wake her. How he bundled her into bed in the cabin—
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s not your fault. You weren’t ready for such a huge step.” He tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I honestly didn’t think you could go that far. Once you started I didn’t want to bring you back before I knew what you could do.”
The burger tasted good, and eventually her stomach settled enough for her to enjoy it. And her hunger returned.
“I feel like I could eat an elephant.”
“You expended a lot of energy.”
“So what else can we do?” Taz felt ready to have this conversation.
“There are things, like you experienced yesterday and today, that we can do. Not all of us, only the more powerful. Some just have premonitions or really strong intuition. Most cannot consciously tap into what you did today.”
“Can we fly?”
He laughed. “Delta, Southwest, or American?”
“I was flying today.”
“In your mind. If I hadn’t been there, you would have been helpless.”
“Will that always happen?”
“I don’t know. You might learn to control it, or it might always take you over. You must promise that until you learn to control it, you never do it without me, without controlled circumstances. If you were alone and someone tried to hurt you…” He looked at her. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
“Can you do that? What I did?”
“Not like that. Not the way you can. My cousin Rafael can. I’ve heard of others, but I’ve never been able. I have a fraction of the reach you have.”
“What about controlling animals?”
“Sometimes.”
“Changing into bats?”
She knew that would crack him up, and he laughed. “No.” He proceeded to tell her what he knew, what his labs discovered.
The genetic markers that made up the “vampire” syndrome were like any other genetic condition. Except much of it tapped into normally unused portions of the brain.
“Think about wolves,” he said, “how they effortlessly hunt as a pack, communicate wordlessly. It’s what we do, some of us anyways. Who knows? Maybe humans could do this once and we’re the last who still can.”
“What about the blood?”
“There is something in us that lacks certain nutrients. But now, with vitamins and fortified food, we don’t crave blood. We get everything we need off the shelf. There are rituals, most of which aren’t practiced anymore, but a few still remain out of need or…desire.”
He looked at her, and she blushed, a warm tingle growing between her legs and spreading. “There is something in our blood that our digestive enzymes don’t destroy. On the contrary, when we take it in, like we did, like you did for me, our bodies can instantly absorb and use it.”
“I still don’t understand the instant healing, the supersensitive hearing, all that. How we live longer.”
He shrugged. “Neither do I. It’s all part of it. As far as the healing, look at lizards. Some of them, they can regenerate new tails. Have you ever heard of progeria?”
She shook her head.
“It’s a genetic syndrome, where children age rapidly, dying usually by their teens, looking like old men and women.”
Her appetite slipped. “And?”
“It’s caused by a mutation in the LMNA gene. The cells break down prematurely. We think what we have is the exact opposite. It’s a mutation that’s super strong.”
“Does that explain everything?”
“No. There’s more than one mutation. How many, I’m not sure. Like any genetic disorder, it can be passed on. You have people who are carriers and those who actually have it. Being caused by more than one gene mutation supports my theory how some can have certain traits and not others. In your case, I suspect you have most, if not all, of the mutations. I believe your father was also of the line for you to be so strong.”
“Will I live as long as you?”
He caressed her cheek. “It doesn’t matter. Because if you’re not alive, I don’t want to be.”
“So we can’t ‘make’ another vampire?”
“No. Not like you’re thinking. That’s Hollywood myth.” She sensed his thought, but he clamped down on it, and she smiled.
“We could ‘make’ a vampire?” she teased.
“Takes about nine months,” he admitted with a sly smile.
She felt that sensual tingle between her legs again. “But there’s no guarantee.”
He shook his head, serious again. “No. Obviously early on there was a better chance. Now the bloodline is so diluted it’s difficult to have a baby with enough of the traits. Hybrids like Tim and Albert are not uncommon. If you have two powerful vampires, then of course there’s a better chance.”
“Which is rare.”
“Absolutely.”
“How did the whole ‘night rising’ thing get started?”
“Think about someone who didn’t age at the same rate as everyone else. There was a lot of religious persecution then. They were usually marked for death as an agent of the devil, so they were hidden by their families and allies, ventured out only at night. A few had an even rarer mutation where sunlight hurt them. But there are people today with that same genetic mutation who aren’t vampires.”
“And it was a great book.”
“There is that.”
“The undead crap?”
“Someone who doesn’t age, they must be supernatural. Or at least that’s what they thought back then.”
“Can we be killed?”
“Absolutely. You saw for yourself. I would have died if it wasn’t for you.”
“Stake through the heart?”
“Stake through any vital organ. Or a bullet. Or a knife. Car accident, et cetera. Not much different than any other human.”
“Minor wounds?”
“Depends on where and what they are. You’ve probably never had a paper cut, have you?”
She thought about it and started to disagree, when she realized he was right. She’d always thought she was just a fast healer. She might get a minor scratch somewhere, but immediately forgot about it. Most of the time, she healed up within the space of a few hours, a day at the most.
“We are not invincible,” he continued. “We can’t throw ourselves off a building and expect to survive. We’re not superhuman. Better reflexes, yes. In some cases stronger, but not movie-legend strong. Okay, we can move faster. I’ve had hundreds of years of training and practice. It doesn’t happen overnight. But a Hollywood stuntman can move faster and kick the ass of the average couch potato.”