“Yes, I’m a dhampir. And before you ask, no I’m not going to slay you. You’re too beautiful.” On impulse Kemp brushed a lock of Owen’s hair back from his face, surprised and somewhat relieved when Owen didn’t pull away.
“Beautiful?” Owen looked a bit nonplused by both the word and the touch.
Kemp chuckled despite himself. “All right, maybe I should have said handsome.”
“No, I sort of like that you think I’m beautiful. No one’s ever said something like that to me before.”
“Are you serious? Where the hell have you been hiding out that no one told you how fantastic you are?”
Owen shrugged. “I was just never, well you know, very out there at all.”
Kemp grinned. “So this is the first time you’ve ever let anyone know?”
With an embarrassed smile Owen nodded.
“I don’t know. Just, you seemed, I felt, I looked at you and… I don’t know. I just…” Owen stuttered to a stop, turning away. “I should go now.”
“No you shouldn’t,” Kemp told him firmly, catching his shoulder before he could walk away.
“Owen, move away from him now,” a voice barked out of the darkness surrounding them.
“Oh hell,” Kemp and Owen said at the same instant.
“Now,” the voice ordered, “before he tries to slay you.”
Instead of doing as he’d been told Owen moved closer to Kemp, placing his body protectively in front of him. “He won’t hurt me father.”
A tall, dark-haired vampyre stepped into view, his clawed hands curled at his sides. He looked at each of the young men separately for a long moment before asking Kemp “Is this true dhampir?”
Kemp nodded as he tried to find his voice. “Yes sir,” he finally managed to get out.
“Why should I believe you?” The vampyre took two long steps forward.