This Same Earth

Epilogue

From the journals of Stephen De Novo

Houston, Texas

August 20, 1996

Dear Mariposa,

I had to say goodbye to you tonight. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Harder than controlling the bloodlust that still ambushes me from time to time. Harder than escaping the madman who killed me. Harder than ignoring my mother’s pleas to stay.

I doubt you’ll ever read this, but I feel stupid writing “Dear Diary” when I’m an immortal bloodsucking predator, so I’ll address it to you. On the off chance you do read this, then you know what I’ve become.

I thought I could be part of your life, at least for a little while, but the first time you saw me, I was reminded of what a monster I am now. I tried to erase the memory from you and try again, but it was no use. Hopefully, you remember me the way I was.

I want you to remember the good things.

I am going away now. Whatever happens to me, I just hope I haven’t made you a target. That’s the other reason I’m leaving. I couldn’t stand if you got pulled into this. I want you to have a good life. I want you to grow up strong and smart. I know Grandma and Grandpa will do their best. They’re amazing. I want you to find someone to love, who loves you back. I want you to live a full life and have a big family, with lots of people who love you and challenge you and bring you as much joy as you brought me just by being your dad.

I may live a thousand years. Hopefully, I’ll do something good with that time. Whatever purpose God has in all this, I hope I find it. But no matter what else I do in the endless time that’s been given to me, you will always be my greatest accomplishment.

I love you so much,

Dad

Dublin, Ireland

March 1998

Dear Beatrice,

I finally met a vampire tonight who wasn’t out to get me. Funny, right? I’m sure I’ve met others, but this was the first one I found that gave me hope I might not have to be a lowly, manipulative bastard who only uses humans for the rest of my existence. I was doing some research at Trinity last night, and on the way back to my hotel, I sensed another vampire around me. I tensed up. You never know who you can trust.

But when I finally saw him from a distance, he just smiled. He was a doctor, and he was running a free medical clinic in the lobby of an old office building. It was just him with a bunch of poor humans, so I felt like I could relax. I don’t know why, but he saw me through the glass and motioned me over to ask if I could help.

See, when I touch people now, I can get a sense of their general health. That, and their smell makes me able to tell if they’re sick. I guess he just wanted some company…and some help. The line of people was out the door and it was almost eleven o’clock.

He didn’t ask much about me. Just if I was American and if I was visiting anyone in town. I think he could tell from talking to me that I was trying to lay low, so he didn’t pry. He asked if I needed any help. He was so nice, I was tempted to spill the whole crazy story, but something held me back. I didn’t want to get him involved. Knowing that there was someone good out there, that maybe I could eventually do something useful with this life was enough. It made me grateful to have met him.

After the clinic, he asked if he could pay me for my time. It was nice to say no and just feel good about myself for the first time in years. All the humans that I’ve fed from since I was turned, I finally felt like I gave something back without taking.

He gave me his card and told me to call him if I ever needed any help. I hope I won’t have to use it, but I took it, just in case.

Love,

Dad

Gravesend, England

January 20, 2000

Dear Beatrice,

I found a friend today.

Sounds silly, right? Like I’m the new kid at school. But in the last seven years, I’ve discovered how rare it is to find a friend you can trust. Do you have those kind of people around you? Do you have good friends? I hope so. You’re nineteen now. Maybe you have a boyfriend. You better be going to college. I wonder what you’ll study. Probably not Dante.

Do you still love Greek myths? Maybe you’ll study literature. Or archeology. I’m sure you’d be good at anything, you were always so smart. I bet you’re beautiful, too. The last time I saw you, you had that gawky, uncomfortable look that kids have when they’re teenagers, but you were only fifteen. I bet you’re beautiful now. You always looked like Mom, and she’s so lovely.

This new friend of mine is teaching me how to hide better. He’s old. Older than you can even imagine. I’m not sure they even measured time when he was human. He’s also incredibly powerful. He can control water like me, but much better. He’s a good friend, and I feel like I might finally have time to study this book and not spend all my time running around trying to hide.

Love,

Dad

Brasilia, Brazil

October 2001

Dear Beatrice,

I’m writing to you from my home. After eight years of running, I finally feel like I’ve found a new home. It’s quiet here. No one pays attention to me. With all the tourists around, I can feed without bothering anyone, and no one even remembers me.

I feel strange talking to you about feeding, even though I know you’ll probably never read this. I tried feeding from animals, but after a while, it got to be too much work. I have to feed a lot more often and drink a lot more blood than if I just take a quick sip from a human.

Forgive any unfortunate juice box comparisons.

I don’t look down on people like most vampires do, but it’s the easiest way for me to survive. If it makes you feel better, I always pay them. They don’t remember where the money came from, but hopefully they just think they forgot about it in their pocket.

It’s not all bad. I’m learning so much faster now. I wish I knew a neurobiologist who could study it. It’s like my brain can absorb information and my memory-which was always good-is amazing now. I’ve become fluent in Portuguese, French, Ancient Greek, Old Arabic, Old Persian, Mandarin, and my Latin and Italian are much better, too. My recall and processing are faster; it’s easier to make connections. I’m simply smarter than I was as a human. Honestly, I can see why some vampires, after hundreds of years, do feel superior to them.

I’m much stronger. I’ve been told that if I was in better physical condition when I was turned it would be even better, but my sire was old, so that helped. But he also made a lot of ‘children,’ which depletes their strength. So unless I find a much stronger vampire who is willing to exchange blood with me, which is unlikely, I’ll always be weaker than him.

I think I’m starting to understand this book. I still can’t figure out why he wants it, though.

Love,

Dad

Brasilia, Brazil

August 2004

Dear Beatrice,

I got a letter from a contact in Rome today.

How can you ever forgive me?

This is my fault.

Please forgive me.

If I didn’t need to keep this book safe, I would walk into the sun on his sick little island right now, just to make him leave you alone.

Maybe he’s dead. I hope like hell he’s dead.

This vampire that petitioned for you in Rome…he’s frightening, Beatrice. I don’t know why he wants you, but he’s Lorenzo’s sire, and the stories I’ve heard make my blood curdle.

A fire vampire?

What does he want from you?

They all want something.

Forgive me!

I can only hope what I’ve heard is wrong. My contact said di Spada was ‘uncharacteristically impassioned’ in his claim, that he offered a lot in exchange for you. At least this makes me hopeful his intentions toward you are good. It is hard to imagine, from what I have heard, but I can hope.

Forgive me,

Dad

Athens, Greece

December, 2004

You’re in L.A.

You’re in grad school.

You’re safe.

From what I hear, you’re really safe.

I’m not sure what Giovanni Vecchio is to you, but whatever he is, he’s protecting you more than any human I’ve ever heard of.

Maybe he can be trusted. He’s powerful enough.

I don’t know if I can trust him.

But I think I can trust you.

Iraklion, Crete

February 2005

Dear Beatrice,

Please understand. Please get the message.

Please remember the game.

I want you to find me.

Please remember.

I can’t do this alone.

Dad

Shanghai, China

June 2006

Dear Beatrice,

I haven’t written in a while. I think I may understand why Lorenzo wants this. But it doesn’t make sense. Not really. There’s something I’m not seeing. For the first time since I was turned thirteen years ago, I don’t feel smart enough to handle this.

I need more information, but I don’t know who to trust. Everyone has an agenda.

Remember that.

Everyone has an agenda.

Love,

Dad

El Paso, Texas

September 2007

Why does anyone live in El Paso? It’s so hot. I don’t even sweat anymore, and it still feels hot.

I’m so tempted to go see your grandma. She’s so close.

Is she okay? I heard about Grandpa a couple of years ago. I hope she’s not lonely. She and Dad…they had that kind of love you always read about, you know?

Is that what you’ve found with this immortal?

Is it even possible?

You’re twenty-five now. I’ve missed so much of your life. Even the hints I get now, the reports and the notes, they’re not enough. I just need to be sure he can be trusted.

I have to be sure.

Love,

Dad

Brasilia, Brazil

March 2008

Dear Beatrice,

Okay, game played. Did you follow the clues? Can you find me?

Please find me.

I’ll wait for you.

I’ve found some new avenues for research. I finally understand the basics of this manuscript, but the alchemy is still beyond me. There’s just not enough research done on vampire biology. I may contact that doctor in Dublin if I can. Maybe he would be able to make better sense of this.

I just know that there’s a piece I’m missing. Something doesn’t quite fit. It seems like it should work, but if it does, then why does he want it? The more I learn, the less sense it makes.

Back to my books.

Love,

Dad

Brasilia, Brazil

August 2008

Dear Beatrice,

This is the last time I’ll write in these journals. I was stupid to depend on a game we played when you were a child. It wasn’t fair of me.

I’m leaving Brazil, but in case you ever find this place, I’ll leave my journals here. Where I am going, it’s best not to bring them anyway.

There is an elder I need to see. I don’t trust him personally, but I think I can trust him with the manuscript. I think, from what I’ve learned, he may be my best chance to keep the book safe from Lorenzo, and to help me make sense of all this.

I’m leaving tomorrow. August 8, 2008.

I’m going West to the East. You know me; I like to be in my element.

Find me, Mariposa.

Love,

Dad