Perhaps now she spoke to him as an adult. So she knew his father’s reputation was not all based on gossip and exaggerations, he wondered if she knew...about the fading beauty Martha. One evening, when Patricia had gone out to a fund-raising concert Matt did the dishes. Never in his life had he seen his father do anything domestic, apart from carving the meat. At least he didn’t mirror his image to that selfish extent. He went to the front porch, where in the late-summer twilight his father had. Her response was little movement at all, answering softness with disinterest. ‘So weak, so frail, where is the want, where is the passion? Is that all that I inspire in you?’ I shivered when she said this, as she was closer to the mark than she knew. I wrapped my left arm around her waist and pulled her against me and kissed her hard, and strong, not with Stefan’s passion, but with my own. ‘Ever the seeker of pleasure, aren’t you my sweet? Are you so bored with immortality that your blood only. More

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