did, maybe he didn’t. But I understood exactly.”
“So what, he needed a reminder of what it felt like to pummel someone?”
Adrian ignores my crass tone.
“He needed a reminder of his own mortality. That he could feel pain. Overcome vulnerability. Not just a test of his physical strength, but mental. He wanted to bring his suffering to the surface. For all to witness.”
“Proof that he wasn’t dead inside?”
Adrian shrugs. “Maybe.”
“And if he was?”
“His appearance would tell a different story to men like the one who congratulated him in the bar. They would see his passion and he would revel in it.”
We sit in silence for a short while.
“Did Catch hate you? Resent what you made him?”
Adrian looks mildly amused, maybe not expecting me to know Catch was the subject of his little story.
“Not in the slightest. He embraced his new life. Frankly, I expected you to do the same.”
I study the boxers, trying to picture Catch in the ring. It isn’t a stretch. But Catch hadn’t named his sire and it hadn’t occurred to me to ask. Adrian’s response neither confirmed nor denied my query and it was clear he didn’t intend to elaborate further.
“I’m struggling. With all due respect, I worked pretty damn hard to crawl out of the slums I was raised in. I finally got my life on track. Well sort of. I was happy.”
“You have a greater destiny. You don’t see it now, but we’re giving you a chance your human life did not grant you.”
“Guess I’ll have to take your word on that…” My voice trails off, and when he does not offer any further insight, I change the subject.
“How old are you?”
He continues to focus on the fight.
“1200 and a few weeks, months…” He ponders for a moment. “You know, I may be 1300. At this point who’s counting?”
“Wow. Were you ever human?”
He shrugged. “Time has not granted me any explanation to why I’m here or how I came to be.”
“Does time help?”
“Help?”
“With loss, pain…?”
“You’re young. Human emotions will persist for some time to come; it’s only natural. This is how it has to be. You may not understand that now, but you will in time.”
“What if I slip? What if someone learns what has happened to me?”
“That is not an option. Our world is kept separate from the humans, for obvious reasons. We do not interfere in their affairs, we do not play vigilante in their towns, and we do not commit murder. Certain risks are not worth taking. To answer your earlier question, yes, time helps. Time makes us invincible; immortality is earned, achieved in this fashion.”
The bell dings to end the round. The boxers stagger to their respective corners.
Adrian continues, “Time, you see, was never an issue with our kind, but now we have found ourselves in a war to save our race and every passing moment counts considerably. You will have some time to train at the facility in England and then you’ll be thrown into the deep end, so to speak.”
The fight resumes. The man who threw that mean jab earlier now takes one to the head and hits the floor, unconscious, and the fight is over.
“I can settle with that for now.”
“Well, I dare say this is the most I’ve conversed with anyone in a long while. Perhaps the fight put me in a good mood, or,” a severity in his tone now, “maybe I was worried you’d try something drastic unless otherwise advised. That would be a shame.”
Chapter 9
I crawl out from the overturned vehicle.
Jolted, trembling, I make my way clear of the wreckage and push myself upright. Staggering backward, I admire my handiwork. Fear turns to amusement as a tire drops from the broken axel and bounces several yards before teetering sideways into the grass.
Rather disappointed by my unscathed state, I scan for evidence and turn up nothing but a rip in my sleeve. Then I taste blood and bring my hand to my head. Blood is streaming from a gash across my temple and beginning