----- Twilite Addict, this one's for you. I'm done dinner! Lol -------

Max answers on the first ring. He actually says, "Hey Niomi." For a second, I'm kind of freaked out that he had some vampire/Alice Cullen premonition. But then, as if reading my mind, he add, "I have caller ID."

I don't let my myself contemplate the whole, 'Reading my mind' thing. Edward couldn't read minds over the phone anyway – could he? I can't remember. "Hi, Max…" I gulp, "I think we kinda need to…" I'm not quite sure how to phrase it. Chat about how you're a vampire that could kill me? "Talk." Max finishes my sentence, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah…about…?" This time there's a question lingering in my sentence, almost as though I want him to finish that sentence too. To confirm what we both know. Because fact is, I do. I do want him to let me know I wasn't just hearing things.

"About how I'm a vampire." His voice comes out low. And then, "Listen Niomi…I haven't told anyone I told you." He explains. "Anyone? So, like, you have a coven? Like the Cullens!?" Despite myself, I pick up enthusiasm. Max chuckles, "Not quite. I'll meet you at the Ice Cream Shoppe, alright?" he asks. "Alright." I agree.

The Ice Cream Shoppe is where I've been going since I was a kid. Not only do they sell the best ice-cream, but all original flavours, too. I'm surprised Max knows about it. I guess I really shouldn't be – but I am. I've just always felt an odd claim to the store…who knows why.

When I reach the Ice Cream Shoppe, Max is already there, waiting for me. "Do you want to go in?" he inquires, but I shake my head. "I'd rather just talk." I admit. "Well…I can't explain, exactly. So…just ask, and I'll answer." Max decides.

Of course, all the typical questions explode in my mind. Do you sparkle? Do werewolves exist? Is Edward Cullen actually a real guy? Are the Volturi real? Are you immortal? Do you drink human's blood? Do vampires ever sleep? But in the end I just question, "How old are you, anyway?"

Max runs his hand through his hair, "Seventeen." He says after a bit, "Technically. But…all the years I've been alive for… I should, really, be eighty-one." (A/N did I do my math right? Probably not…)

When he doesn't go on a have to prod, "What year did you die, Max?" and he replies, "1944." (A/N so…? Did I do my math right?) I think for a second. 1944. A year before World War Two ended. "Max," I question, "Were you a soldier?"

Max gives a bitter laugh. "The hero, you mean, was I the hero. No, I wasn't." For a second a feeling of disgust overwhelms me. Max is such a nice person. But… "Please," I whisper, "Tell me you weren't a Nazi."

Max's face pales. "No," he shakes his head vigorously, "Just their victim. One of many." It's his voice now that is filled with disgust. I'm oddly relieved. I'd rather he have had to go through the Holocaust than to have caused it.

"I'm so sorry Max," I apologize, "I was going on and on about my Father and yet…you lost…everyone."

Max shakes his head, "Everyone." His voice is barely audible, "And yet – not myself. I…I was weak. What they used to call a 'musselman'….starving to death, with no desire to live and no will to go on…One day, I was sent to the ovens but…something happened along the way. A kind man, I suppose, or rather – a kind vampire. All I know, is that when I came to again I wasn't human. Not anymore. But I wasn't on my own." He explains.

"Where were you?" I inquire. I have to know. His story is bad but…but I have to know. Max gulps, and in his eyes, I can see he's not looking at the scene around us as we walk. He's back in one of the concentration camps. "I was in a pile…of…bodies." His whole faces blanches and I flinch, then shudder. "I know what you must think but I promise you I didn't…eat them. Or drink them or…anything." An awkward silence comes between us. Eventually I have the harsh tasking of enquiring, "Why not?"

"There's cannibalism, and then there's normal people. That's what it's like for us. Sure, there are some who will take to human blood – cannibals. And then, there are all us other vampires. The ones who drink animal blood." He answers. Now Max has returned to me. I smile faintly.

"So…what else is true? Do you sparkle?" I want to know. He laughs, a good laugh. "Nah." He shakes his head. "Do you have a coven?" I ask next. "Just Lilli and I." he replies. Lilli? "And she's.,.?" I'm puzzled.

"My sister. Would you like to hear the rest of my story?" I nod eagerly.

"So there I am. Lying in a bunch of bodies. And it dawns on me. I don't know how. I guess when it finally dawns on people that they're male or female – you know. When they're very little, they figure it out. That's what it was like. I realized I was a vampire – and I realized I had to save Lilli."

"She's my older sister. Older by years –" "WAIT!" I cut him off, "I thought you said you were an only child. And anyway, how do you pay for your ultra-expensive house without a job?"

Max smiles, "Good memory." He congratulates. "I told you that because Lilli doesn't advertise herself as my sister. There were seven kids in my family, she the oldest and me the youngest. I was seventeen and she was thirty. Thirteen years apart. Lilli already had a family of her own by the time Hitler found us. Two daughters. Twins. A husband, too. It was nice, their wedding, I can vaguely remember it…" Max gets caught up in his recollection. I let him.

But then he looks at me and goes on, "Her and her family got separated. Somehow, we found one another. Ended up in the same camp. She was the only family member I knew anything of. A couple other of my sisters and brothers had small broods of their own, too. But everyone perished. Absoloutely everyone. We've searched for years. Anyway, I found Lilli…I explained, she listened, and then…I bit her."

I'm spellbound. "When the war was over, we came to Canada. When people ask, we just go with Lilli as my Mother. It's easier that way. She doesn't tell people she has a son, but she doesn't tell them she has a brother, either. Brings home rather a lot of money." Max shrugs nonchalantly. "That's why you move so often," I breathe, "So people don't get suspicious."

Max nods, "Lilli's also enrolled in the military. She hasn't gone off in a while – but she's part of it." "Are you?" I question. "What? An old man like me? Nah." Max grins, and I laugh too.

"So," he speaks, "What are we going to do now?"