Shadows of Eternity

Chapter Twenty-Two

T he vampire strolled the dark city streets. He had not been to this part of the world in over three hundred years, give or take a decade. Much had changed, but then, the world was always changing. Only he and his kind remained the same. These days, it took a lot to surprise him, but he had been truly astonished tonight. Earlier, while prowling the city, he had detected the near-forgotten scent of one he had turned centuries ago. He plucked the warrior’s name from the deep recesses of his mind—Shadow Dancer, of the Lakota people.

Josiah remembered few of those he’d turned, but this one, ah, this one he had never forgotten. Perhaps because of the man’s Indian blood. He had been the first Indian Josiah had ever turned. Perhaps it was because of the warrior’s startled expression when he plunged his knife deep into Josiah’s belly, and Josiah had laughed in his face because it had no lasting effect on him. Although Josiah had laughed, he hadn’t been amused. The knife thrust had hurt like hell. In his anger, he had buried his fangs in the Lakota’s throat. And instantly regretted it. The man had shown courage when he tried to avenge his friend’s death, and courage was one of the few things Josiah still admired. Deciding the warrior shouldn’t have to forfeit his own life for his bravado, Josiah had turned Shadow Dancer into a vampire, instead of draining him dry as he had intended. Turned him and left him without a backward glance.

Josiah grinned into the night. He had been a real SOB back then, with no regard for the lives he had carelessly taken or for those he’d thoughtlessly turned. Until this evening. To his surprise, he was curious to know how this particular fledgling had survived with no one to tell him what he’d become or how to survive on his own.

Perhaps he would track Shadow Dancer down one of these nights and see what the warrior had made of himself.