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The Immortal Rules

By @choppedmint

Story 18

“Well,” said Myrnin, tilting up his Ben Franklin style spectacles (that Sam had already asked about. Apparently Myrnin’s sight was perfectly fine, but he just like wearing them) so that they rested on his head. “Well, some of us can also do some base mind-reading, to certain extents.” His free hand was used to poke a finger at his own chest in a bit of pompous pride. “I’m the best in Morganville with that.”

He was reading a newspaper, though the dates on it were from last year and the paper was even upside down. Samuel doubted that would make any difference, since this was Myrnin they were talking about.

“Erm,” he said to all of this. “Okay then.” Like, what was he supposed to say to all that? Was Myrnin reading his thoughts right now?

But the older vampire waved a hand dismissively, “Nah. I can’t what you’re thinking now. You think I honestly want to hear every chatter box brain that walks past me? And it isn’t really safe for me to go that far anyway. Sometimes I make exceptions.”

Well, despite the fact that he’d just made it look very much like he’d just read his mind, Sam could think of one other occasion where Myrnin had done something like that. When they’d shared dreams.

“Yup,” said Myrnin, looking back at his paper. “That was the only time. As you get older you get a bit stronger. No asking about my age either. I’m old enough to be your great something second uncle from a fourth marriage.” Like that had made any sense. But Sam was still getting the impression that Myrnin was reading his thoughts. By this point the newspaper was between him and the vampire so he couldn’t see his face.

Sam set the book he’d been looking at down. The library that Myrnin had was a good resource to relieve some boredom, but only when the owner wasn’t being a creepy mind reader.

“Would a tin-foil hat work against that?” asked Sam dryly, meaning the mind reading.

Myrnin lowered his paper, revealing a rather confused Ben Franklin in a brown wig. “Against what? Aging? That would be a feat.” Sam looked at him blankly for a very second then just shook his head. It was far easier just to leave the vampire to his weird ways.

“So, what you’re saying is that you have powers but can’t actually use them?” he finally asked, picking his book back up again.

“Correct,” Myrnin crooned. “My head is busy enough, thank you so much. You wouldn’t happen to be going anywhere with this, would you?” He lowered the paper further to get a better look at Samuel.

But Sam shook his head, saying, “Nah. I was just curious.”

“Well, that’s fine then,” said Myrnin, waving a hand lazily around. “Happens to me all the time. Curiosity that is.”

Curiosity like wanting to know if there was any possibility to make it back to being human. The Daylight cure never seemed like a good option, even though Sam had asked Michael about it. And that left nothing. His will to live had gotten him here and now it was keeping him right where he was. He wondered how many centuries to would take before he was the one in Myrnin’s place.

Still … that wasn’t really a downgrading thought anymore. Things were how they were. A bit boring sometimes, maybe, but that was how life always was, even when he’d been living with his father. Life moved on.

“Alright,” he said, closing the book about the Middle Ages that he’d been looking at. Someone had marked it up with a red pen. Very clearly with vicious glee. That in itself was a bit telling that Myrnin’s age stretched at least that far. “If you’re so old, why don’t you even know the current president?”

Myrnin lowered the paper. He really wasn’t having much luck reading it when it was upside down. “I’m a piece of history, Sam. I pay attention to the past tense. Gossip with Claire if you want to compare proof that I wouldn’t notice if a Zombie Apocalypse happened.” He frowned a bit down at his paper and added, “None has happened, right? There was all this stuff a couple years ago and you see … I never really checked to see if one happened.”

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