“I didn’t ask for that sample of your blood, hoping to find out what made you a daywalker, Bennett. I asked for it because I needed to confirm your ancestry and prove beyond a shadow of a doubt something I already knew. I had my blood tested as well, and from what my scientists have told me, you’re my granddaughter…about three generations back.”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” Bennett barked. “Your scientists need to either get their heads examined, Max, or buy new DNA sequencers. There’s no way you can be my…what…great-great-great-grandfather? First, you’re gay, and second…” Bennett paused to do the math. “And second, you’d have already been a vampire by then. You couldn’t have produced a child.”

“You know very well that male vampires are still potent for several years after being turned, and as for me being gay, back then I was more a monster than a man. The only outlet I consistently had at my disposal was the brothels, and believe you me, I had my fair share of those women.”

Bennett peered at Max for a long moment before getting to her feet to get a drink. She mulled over everything Max had told her while she poured a splash of scotch into a glass, and when she returned to her chair, Bennett took a sip of the expensive liquor. She was trying to decide what was more aggravating. Was it because for over two decades, Max had failed to share the truth about how one blip on the readout of her DNA explained her daywalking ability? Or was it because Max had kept the secret about their true relationship to himself for over three centuries?

“Your bloody scientists have to be wrong,” Bennett said, slamming her glass down on the desk. “If you and I were related, the sun wouldn’t affect you, and it does. Should I open a shutter to prove my point?”

“Bloody hell, woman, you’re letting your annoyance overshadow your intelligence. You and I both know that DNA comes from both sides of a family tree, and in a branch of yours was a Black Death survivor. I understand you may be a little upset at the mo—”

“I’m not upset, Max. I’m bloody confused. Why tell me now—eh? Why suddenly bring all this crap to light? I mean, it’s not like you cared to share it for the last three-hundred-plus goddamned years. And who cares if someone way back when ended up with your sperm and that eventually led to me? It makes no difference.”

“Yes, it does because that’s the only thing that stopped the council from sentencing you to a forced fifty-year sleep.”

“What?” Bennett said, jumping to her feet. “Napoleon and Simeon tore me to bloody pieces, and all those bastards got was a slap on the hand and a ten-year kip.”