His long hair was flowing freely and his blue-gray eyes were piercing. On this night, he was elegantly adorned in an exquisitely tailored blazer of read velvet, black, crisp pants, and a clean, sleek black shirt that advertised his chiseled body. He was both delighted and surprised to see me at his doorstep but ever so inviting.

"Good evening, Tristan. Shall we retire to my study or yours?" he said, a smirk as he addressed me and I began to realize how much I loved his language.

"How do you know that this letter and my business here includes my study?" I questioned, shocked by his knowledge.

"Now, Monsieur Du Monde, that is a most excellent question. Do you have a more forgetful some memory than Nicolas?"

"What do you-."

"Our last meeting? I believe that I advised you that we were to meet at one o' clock at your home, do you remember?"

"I'm sorry. You must forgive me, I've been terribly worn from-."

"The wedding," he said, completing my sentence.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" he asked, arrogantly with a smile.

"It's as though you're reading my mind. You were doing it the other night as well."

"Oh, really?" he said, innocently. "Forgive me, then," his voice changing to one of seriousness, "I do it without knowing most of the time. Forget about that, please, come inside."

And I did as he instructed and he led me the way to his study, his long stride, hardly echoing in the moonlight. I sat myself in a large armchair made of black leather, noting that Nicolas had just joined us. He took his place beside Leo on the leather couch next to my chair. Leo sat closest to me and leaned his dark and sorrowful face towards me and said, "So, you've found out what we are."

"I'm not quite sure. That's why I had hoped to talk to you. I want to find out more," I paused, drawing in a long breath, not aware of what to say next. "You said that you would explain the rest of your story to me tonight. Am I correct?"

"That's only if you want to hear it," Nicolas finally spoke.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Trust me, Nicolas may be right about this. There are some things that are in our story that you may not want to know."

"Well, do you wish to tell it?"

"Of course. Whether we wish tot ell it or not, it must be told," Leo answered, still pained.

He never once settled into his couch through the course of the story and it was intriguing, and somewhat frightening, when I'd find myself staring at him. His handsome features were strong and gorgeous on his face. His eyes seemed to be making his tears stand still inside them as he blinked slowly. Leo's jaw was lock and it seemed he was at a loss of words to tell his story.

"We aren't alive, Tristan," he said gracefully and carefully. "I mean, it appears that way but, we really aren't."

"What are you then?"

"We're blood drinkers. Creatures of the night. Vampires, as you've already guessed," Nicolas announced.

"How do you know that I had no idea of what you were?"

"Because," Leo spoke up, "because that's one of the many things that we can do. We can read minds. There are other things we can do as well but, of those, I have not yet discovered. Our maker, or lack of a better word for him, left us with little to know and plenty to question. Trust me, it's a fate I believe to be worse than death. And I hope you won't have to become one of us."

"Why do you say you hope? Do you have doubts?"

"Do to telling you this information there may be some changes in that plan. We may have to bring you over to our "dark side" for risk of exposure," Nicolas explained.

"You're joking, right?"

"Actually, he's not. This is probably the only time he's not joking, Tristan," Leo said. "Now, let me proceed with the story at hand that must be told. Well, where did we leave off?"

"You left off with the man biting Nicki's neck, I believe."

"Ah, of course. You say it so subtly the it was one of those moments that changes the course entire life."

"I'm sorry, I try to say things that I can't understand. I'm trying to speak of things that I can't even imagine."

"And I cannot fault you for that either, though. I can see why you are curious because you are…naïve about what we are and what we can do. Besides, Leo hasn't even finished his tale yet," Nicolas said, forgivingly.

"So, I suppose that means we should proceed?" Leo said.

I gave a silent nod for him to continue because the anxiety that was building inside of me was too much to bear. I wanted to hear more, I was yearning for him to give me those answers I was so desperately waiting for.

"All right," Leo said. He put his hands together and slouched forward, still stiff. He lifted his head to me and fixed his eyes on mine. "Have you understood what I've told you so far? Or is there more explaining that must be said?"

"How did it feel?"

"As if I'd never be cheerful again," Nicolas stepped into say. "All my life memories flashed before me like some kind of play."

"I felt cold," Leo interjected. "And I hated it. It was as if the realization that I had lived for nothing occurred. I am no happier now than I was then. That moment made me solemn."

Nicolas looked at him as if Leo needed to be forgiven or comforted. His head stayed natural as his cold eyes darted slowly around the room. And then he went on.

"After Nicolas was…bitten, he left him to die, or so it would seem, and went on to me. After that, it was mostly blurry and I can't quite remember what happened. But I know I tasted blood. It filled my mouth and when I can to he said, 'The prophecy has been fulfilled,' and then he jumped into the fireplace.

"So that's apparently how they, well, we, can die," Nicolas said.

"What about-," I began.

"Garlic? Stakes? Crucifixes?" Leo finished. "Apparently not. I heard him murmur something about, 'Don't believe in the myths,' and 'Wear the ankh as I do.' We could test it."

"You can't be serious!"

"Actually, I've never been more serious in my life. I'd rather die than live for eternity like this," Leo said.

"It's that horrible?" I questioned.

"Drinking blood every night just to survive, I'd call that pretty horrible. Especially when you begin to feel precious life slip through your hands," Leo explained.

"Do you have garlic?" Nicolas asked, cheerfully.

"Yes, I'll go get it," Leo said, walking to his kitchen.

"He looks upon it as a curse when someone has given him youth forever and resistance against death. Young and immortal with women and wine, and he still complains," Nicolas laughed.

Leo walked back in from the kitchen, grimly, the smile quickly fading from his face. Nicolas had ceased laughing for respect of León when I realized that he was still holding the garlic.

"I guess that he was right when he said not to believe in the myths," Leo exclaimed with that sad tone, smiling slightly. "Anybody up for being nailed?"

"Well, that depends on the definition you use," Nicolas replied with a laugh.

"I'll nail him both ways," a voice replied seriously, its silken tone breaking the air crisply.