“I think it’s time I tell you.” My birth mother said. “There’s a decent chance your father wasn’t human.”
“What?” Of course, I’d heard the story before, many times, in her monthly visits. She’d been working as a sex worker, and her birth control failed. She’d gotten pregnant, considered abortion, but she just couldn’t go through with it. So she opted for open adoption instead, which she always told me was the best choice she’d ever made.
But she’d never said anything about my possible fathers not being human. “What would they be, if not human?”
“There’s a hidden underground of magic and supernatural shit all over the place.” She replied. “Madam was a vampire. Most of us girls were human, but there were a few who were other things. Especially vampires—if you got Madam’s favor and you wanted to keep working, she’d turn you before you got too old.”
I shook my head. How was I supposed to believe this? But then I remembered why I’d started this conversation in the first place. Could my appearing-and-disappearing bone deformities and my violent outbursts be connected to my parentage? “And my possible fathers?”
She was thoughtful. “Well, most of the clients were vampires, and I’ve never heard of a vampire getting anyone pregnant. They don’t even cum, they just pee.”
“Ew! I did not need to hear that!” Ugh, seriously? My birth mother had no filter sometimes.
“So it was probably one of the non-vamps.” She continued. “Let me see, there was Alex, he was a striga. I don’t remember what strigas can do, but they like blood, so they’re kind of like vampires. Except he didn’t have fangs—he said he’d get them after he died.”
“Hang on, let me write this down.” I grabbed a piece of paper and started taking notes. ‘Alex, striga, likes blood, gets fangs after death’. “And who else?”
“Well, there were two humans, Harry and Kevin. Harry, he was a clerical mage. He could do human magic—we all do it, it’s why vampires need an invitation to enter someone’s home—but he was seriously strong at it. He made anti-vampire stuff like enchanted crosses and protection wards. Normally he’d have worked as a vampire slayer, but instead the vampires employed him to give them stuff to deal with other vamps. He enchanted the gang’s prison, for example. I know he had training, but I dunno if his abilities were all training, or if there was some innate talent involved, too.”
I jotted that down. ‘Harry, human, clerical mage, makes anti-vampire charms, training or talent?’ “And Kevin?” I had a sneaking suspicion that my biological father wasn’t going to be one of the humans, but it was worth getting the information, anyway.
“Kevin was pretty much the opposite. No talent for human magic—he could barely even keep a vampire out of his home. But he could see through illusions, like fae illusions.” She said. “Speaking of that, I also had a fae client, which was unusual. Dain, that was his name. His illusions were seriously cool. I don’t know if fae and humans can interbreed, though, because he said we’re completely different species.”
I jotted them down. “Any more?”
“Yeah, there were a couple I didn’t know.” She said. “One guy, Joral, sparkled. Yeah, I know, you’re thinking of that dumb vampire movie, but he was no vampire. Vampires don’t sparkle, and he was warm and didn’t drink blood. Also, it was moonlight, I never saw him in sunlight. And he had elf ears.”
I wrote ‘Joral, sparkles in moonlight, elf ears, warm, doesn’t drink blood’. “OK.”
“And the other guy, Madam told me he smelled like a vampire, but he wasn’t a vampire. He didn’t drink blood, he was warm, and he made the phone malfunction when he touched it.” She said. “He didn’t give me a name. I heard later that he was a vampire slayer, and he killed several of the vampire girls.”
“Yikes.” I said.
“Yeah. Oh, and there was Bill. He was an empath. Downright telepathic with vampires, but with me all he could do was sense my emotions.” She said. “He was a really great lover, really tuned in to what I liked.”
“TMI.” I jotted it down anyway. “Is that all of them?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure the rest were all vamps.” She said.