– The sun is sitting too slowly.
My words were met with silence.
I didn't expect any other response. After all, those standing next to me were of the same opinion. They were just like me. Of the same kind. My family, standing on the balcony of an ancient castle secluded in the low mountains, not far from Prague, old and beautiful. But true Praguers we were not – we had moved here from London to live quietly in the Czech Republic, a beautiful country seemingly made for us.
– You sound like a girl in a romance novel," my older brother Markus said suddenly, and smirked, pleased that he'd managed to hurt my feelings.
My lips twitched in a grin. I raised an eyebrow.
– How long have you been into women's novels? – I parried.
– Irony is unnecessary here. There are exceptions to the rules.
– Like what?
– The classics. Jane Austen.
– You're right. That woman created masterpieces.
– I watched her life. She was an extremely pleasant person. But you had other things on your mind back then.
– Markus, stop bragging about your seniority. You're only ten years older than me. – I grinned derisively.
– That's right, brother. Ten years is a pretty impressive amount of time.
– Not for us.
– Markus, Cedric, put aside your argument and enjoy the sunset. – Mother's gentle rebuke made my brother and I smile sarcastically and fall silent. My wistful gaze wandered briefly through the small forest and froze on one of the red roofs of magnificent Prague.
I hated my name. Cedric. It reminded me of some bad romance novel. It must be the name of the protagonist. And it's a name I'll have to carry for the rest of my life. But even now, at the age of two hundred and eighty-six, I didn't understand why my parents had given me that pompous name.
I forgot to tell you, I'm a vampire. Like my brother, father, and mother, I carried the burden of eternity and immortality-two great gifts. However, these gifts were not always convenient: our place of residence changed so often that there seemed to be no city in Europe in which we did not leave our mark. We moved to Prague from London ten years ago. But the years became dust so soon and imperceptibly that it seemed to me as if the farewell to gloomy London had been accomplished yesterday. I cannot say that the blood of the Prague people is different from that of the Londoners. Just a little bit, I think. People's blood is always the same. All people are the same.
Our family, the Morgans, are one of the largest and most respected in both the vampire and human worlds. My father held the proud title of "Sir": he was once a knight of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the First of England. My mother is from the Bohemian Bogali family. And I'm half-English, half-Czech with the stupid name of Cedric. I've already mentioned my older brother Markus.
Our life is full of fun: we have the night all to ourselves. Speed, strength, freedom – it's all glorious and wonderful. Until sunrise. As soon as the daylight begins its rising, we hurry to hide in our dwellings. Contrary to human fictions, the sun does not kill us or burn our skin. The reason for our dislike of the sun is different: if it touched us with its rays, people would see the decrepit, dilapidated remains we hide under the beautiful disguise created by the ideal of human beauty. We pretended to be human. That is why the sun was our enemy: as soon as we were seen in our true faces, real people would run away, and we would not need panic in the human world. Our secrecy and denial of our own existence is the main aspect of our life: we are predators, humans are our prey.
– I have something to tell you," my brother whispered to me. – It's personal.
– I'm intrigued," I replied briefly.
Markus didn't often come to me with "personal" business. And curiosity got the better of me. Knowing my brother, I had a feeling this was going to be an important and very interesting conversation.