I observed this fragile sleeping child and frowned. An old feeling, I hadn’t experienced in one hundred years or more stirred in my chest.

It was pity.

The most unbelievable thing about the ordeal was that Jane had survived. I guess the pack hadn’t seen the need to kill her in the end. They probably assumed throwing her out into this wretched frozen winter would finish her off.

It almost had.

Her mind had gone quiet for now, so I settled in the armchair at her bedside and watched her sleep.

Color was coming back to her cheeks in the form of little circles of pink in addition to her reddened nose.

I would have her drink more of my blood when she woke up so she could recover completely.

I wasn’t yet sure what I wanted to do with her. I was currently without a living source, and I didn’t enjoy drinking from blood bags in the least.

Perhaps we could come to some agreement if she was amenable to the idea. It’s not like she had anywhere else to go, and I always treated my feeders very well, but she had to decide this on her own. I wouldn’t force her.

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My last feeder had been a man called Elijah, whom I similarly rescued as a child of twenty years old. He was with me for sixty years until he died of cancer in my home, with me by his side, holding his hand.

I could have healed him with my blood, but he said he was happy to move on, and it was time. By Elijah’s estimation, eighty years of life was a good long time. Two hundred years ago, it was certainly longer than most. I disagreed, but I respected his wishes.

There had been no romantic attachment between Elijah and me, but I had rescued him. He lived a good and full life with me, and we became close friends, like family, over the years. We’d had a certain measure of friendly affection and companionship between us, and his final thoughts were for my well-being. May the powers that be bless his kind soul.

The night I found Jane, I had been considering finding a new feeder to alleviate myself from the unpleasantness of bag and animal feeding.

I had stepped out into the snow to gaze up at the night sky when I caught the scent of this girl’s blood about thirty miles west of my house.

Now, my feeling was that bringing her back was the right decision. Perhaps it was even crucial to both our fates. Yes, this would likely turn out very well.

She would be safe with me and live a luxurious life if she desired. I had already decided to make her the offer by the time her memory-filled dreams started up again.

Settling comfortably into the armchair by her bedside, I refocused my attention on her mind.