“You look so much like your mother. I was able to recognize you when you walked into the room.” A young woman who looked like she was in her fifties approached me with a cup of gublet. “There you go.” I took the cup from her. “You must be tired from your journey. I know you will prefer blood to water.”
I looked into the cup and handed the cup back to her. “I can’t drink this.” I said to her,
“Why no?” she asked.
“I haven’t fed for a long time now. I don’t think I can feed again now that my powers are fading.” I said. She took the cup from me.
“You are different. Dhampirs don’t hold back before they drink blood.” She said as she held the cup tightly in her hands.
I locked my eyes on her. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Go on,” she said. I motioned my head to the seat next to me.
“T
