“I rose from my first death a few months after I entered my twenty-sixth year.” Not too bad. Isaac suddenly felt better about the age gap. Twenty-six was nothing compared to two thousand. “A little over two years older than me.” “Isaac, I am far more than two years older than you.” Constans’s lips twitched in amusement. “I am over 2,100 years older than you.” “That’s just how long you’ve been a vampire. There’s a twenty-six-year-old punk in there somewhere, getting drunk with Romans in taverns and running into battle screaming, naked, all while covered in blue paint.”
