Page 131 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

The thought of Christian feeding from anyone else’s vein angered her. “You said we don’t do that.”

“We don’t. The Council has outlawed many of the barbaric practices once accepted by our kind. But immortals not associated with The Order live a lawless life.”

“So how do the hunters do it?”

“Same as one bates a fish. They lure us into traps.”

“With blood?”

He nodded. “Mortals were sacrificed for the cause. Tempting traps were set to distract us. They seduced our sinful nature, enticing our gluttonous hunger. Our lust. They despised our pride. As soon as we displayed a hint of our vicious nature, they had proof and we were destroyed. ”

She thought about the things that distracted her now—the sound of his pulse, the scent of his body, the desire to feel him inside of her. They were completely unguarded when they fed. “How did you and the others escape?”

“Never underestimate the depravity of a predator cornered.”

She took his hand, offering comfort. “It sounds horrific.”

“It was a chaotic and lawless time I do not wish to return to.”

After centuries of living as Amish, he wouldn’t easily adapt to the modern world. That meant, if she left, she would likely leave on her own.

“That wouldn’t happen,” he said, reading her thoughts. “I would never let you face this life or that sort of danger alone.”

She wondered how far their telepathic link reached. If they were separated by hundreds of miles and the noise of modern civilization, would he still be able to read her thoughts and communicate with her?

“One mile between us is insufferable, pintura. I could never abide hundreds.”

If she left, he would follow. That brought her comfort. “You still haven’t told me how immortals die.” He had a responsibility to her. She needed to know how to protect herself in case there was ever danger and he wasn’t around.

“Very well. A stake to the heart will do no more than wound an immortal. It can be a debilitating injury that slows our body’s ability to heal, but once the stake is removed the threat is gone. A little blood and the damaged cells repair. However, if staked to the point of crucifixion, we become unable to remove the threat and our bodies begin to decompose.”

“But we wouldn’t die.”

“No, but there would be great suffering, and we would be incredibly vulnerable to torture. Some fates are worse than death.”

She couldn’t imagine being suspended in endless agony.

“There are some still trapped and suffering from those times.”

“From three hundred years ago?” Her stomach spoiled at the thought.

“And longer, I’m afraid. It’s best to leave them be. The mind has a breaking point. Once broken, the thoughts only poison the soul.”

She took a shuddered breath. It was a chilling thought.

“You must remember, little one, not all immortals are as peaceful as the ones you will find here. Some still believe they have a right to take whatever is available. They feed, rape, and kill as they see fit.”

“Can they make more immortals?”

“Only a true called mate can transition a mortal—safely, that is. If a transition occurs without the blood of a destined mate and the bond is not completed, the mind is lost. Something otherworldly results, a vile abomination that has not been sanctioned by God.”

“You’ve seen this?”

He nodded. “It’s what happened to Dane’s sister. There’s no hope for her soul. It would be merciful to put her down.”

“How do you do it—mercifully, I mean?”

He once again hesitated and studied her. As an immortal, she had a right to know what could kill her. “Decapitation is best, in terms of mercy. It’s fast, but not always easy. Feeish immortals do not surrender easily.”

“Feeish?”

“Possessed. They are without humanity, a slave to their animal nature. Vampire.”

“Can that happen to anyone?”

“You’re safe, little one. The bond protects our souls. You see, the soul is here.” He pointed to his chest. “It’s where our memories live. Our limbs will regenerate, but life ceases when the mind separates from the heart. As a precaution—in terms of ending an immortal life—those parts should always be burned. There can be no resurrection beyond dust.”

“What happens if we’re burned?”

“It’s very unpleasant and can be fatal. And in rare cases, infected blood can make us very ill. Plagues are not something we take lightly.”

The blood rushed from her face.

He pulled her into a hug and pressed his lips to her hair. “God willing, this is nothing you or I will have to worry about. We can enjoy a long and peaceful life here. The Order keeps us safe.”

It really was a clever cover, one that outsiders would never suspect or violate. They could stay on the farm, protected by the Amish boundaries. That meant living forever. She couldn’t wrap her brain around such an endless length of time.

What would they see? How many terrible atrocities would they survive? She now understood why they didn’t maintain friendships with mortals. They would all eventually die.