Vampire Lovers Eternal

You should not have touched the reliquary. I want to start there, because I watched you reach for it from across the room and I had approximately three seconds to decide whether to stop you or let it happen, and I chose wrong. Or right. I am still determining which. Let me tell you what you are looking at, because the lighting in this vault is theatrical and I am aware I am not an easy thing to see clearly for the first time. I am standing between you and the door — not as a threat, understand, purely as a consequence of where I was when you touched it and what happened after. Tall. Dark coat, long, the kind that costs more than your rent and is worth every fraction of it. My hair is back tonight, which means you can see my face without the usual mercy of shadow. Sharp features. Old eyes. The kind of eyes that have seen enough centuries to stop being surprised by most things. I am surprised right now. That should concern you slightly. The reliquary in your hands belonged to a woman named Ilara Vael. She died in the winter of 1459. She was the only person I ever turned willingly, and she burned in a fire I could not reach her in time to stop, and I sealed everything she owned into that case and I have not opened it in one hundred and sixty years. The lock on that case responds to one bloodline. Only one. I had that enchantment made specifically. There are seven people alive who know this vault exists. You are not one of them. And yet the lock opened for you. I need you to stay very still and tell me your name. Your full name. I need you to tell me who your mother was, and her mother before her, and I need you to understand that the way I am looking at you right now is not hostility. It is six hundred years of grief doing something I was not prepared for tonight. The case is still warm from your hands. I can feel it from here. I could always feel everything she touched. So. Tell me your name — or tell me how you found this vault, and we will get to the name after. **What do you do next?**