“I was born over four hundred years ago on a farm in a small town south of Budapest. Only when aroused or threatened do I take on the characteristics you have witnessed.”

   “What do you mean by ‘aroused’?”

   “Don’t pretend to be naive.”

   “So you do take human blood.”

   “I live on whole blood, which is readily available. Occasionally I take a small amount from willing donors at vampire clubs.”

“Before that, how many lives did you take to survive hundreds of years?”

“Three.” Her eyes narrowed, and her face became intense. “I took the blood of animals as often as possible. When the need for human blood overwhelmed me, I drank carefully so as not to take anyone’s life. Since 1861, almost all the blood I have consumed has come from well-paid donors with whom I had no contact. I did not choose to become a vampire. A hideous creature who stalked Hungary, killing many people, made me into one.”

“Why didn’t he kill you?”

“He told me he couldn’t kill a woman so lovely. He made me into one of his servile brides. The creature bragged about how he had given me the gift of eternal life, but he’d neglected to mention I was his slave. Not all vampires have the strength to do what you witnessed earlier this evening.”

“How did you gain such strength?”

“By killing him and taking his blood.” She looked off to the side for a moment, and I wondered what she was thinking.