Cloak of the Vampire

by Sapir A. Englard

“Gifted vampires had talents while human, and once they were given the Imprint, that talent transitioned into some sort of magical ability.”

“Sacred are the oldest vampires in the world. They have certain abilities. Much like . . . magic.”

I was a monster in disguise, after all, and I doubted monsters would sell well.

“Do you think I liked you? That I liked having an unambitious friend who was ditzy and clueless about everything?

I had to give my testimony to the police officer and spat lies to try and spare a criminal.

“After all this time, I expected some sort of decency from you. Shame on me for believing that you had changed. That you might be different. But I was stupid, and that’s on me. You are a fucking monster. You are exactly what your father made you. And you can’t change because it’s who you are.”

Because the Imprint he gave me right after he’d given one to Cassidy . . . he could’ve avoided that. He should’ve avoided that—for his own damned sake. And yet he’d gone through the trouble of wasting his Lifeblood just to coerce me into this life, as if he’d done so on an impulse.

“Whenever there’s someone who wasn’t supposed to be in the place where I give the Imprint, that high makes me kill them, no questions asked. This time, the high urged me to do something different.”

But in this life that I had, before I even became a vampire, these kinds of thoughts were merely dreams, and since dreams had no place in reality, I’d crushed them before they could ever take root in my head.

“He was charged for kidnapping, torturing, sexually assaulting, and murdering—” “Girls under the age of ten,”