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But he knew her game. Knew she was playing with him, provoking him. He smiled. She turned to him, her smile warm and open. ‘Sir. Jamie. How come you to be in this profession? Would you tell me?’ He sighed, his face creasing somewhat, looking suddenly older than his thirty years. ‘It is not a profession I have followed all my life. Far from it. Do you really wish to hear the story?’ ‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘It would please me to know a little more of you, if our paths are to run together for a while.’ He was silent for a space, staring into the flames. She watched him keenly, wondering what he was thinking. He leant back and started to speak, still staring into the flames, his tone dreamlike, monotonous, low, yet somehow compelling. ‘I was born of wealthy parents. They brought me up well. I expected to help my father with our small estate, and indeed I did so for a few years. But father was taken in by dishonest ‘friends’. They persuaded him to invest beyond his means in a venture,. The memories of a boy raised by human monsters flooded him. Memories of terrifying scars and their cause carved holes in his newly mended psyche. He felt again the cracks of each whip strike him. He also felt from a totally new perspective, all of the feelings he had taken from his sisters and mother.He felt the pain of being turned, and remembered the kind vampire who had saved him and taught him the beginnings of vampiric life. The memories of his bloodbath quickly began to drown him. He killed one innocent after another until he had entered his own home with the intent to kill his family. As if sliding into place all of his memories filled that gap that had been missing in him. Lastly he remembered the betrayal of a kind voice within his head. With his newfound sense of balance and his knowledge of the shaping, he was overtaken by a realization. When he had entered his bloodlust, a demon had found him and latched on. It tried to force him to do many things and he had somehow.
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