Zoran looked down at him, pressing his fingers together. “I lose them,” he said. “I want someone to love who will love me back. Oh, not that way,” he hastened to add. “There are reasons a Sire’s Child is called a child. They are our children. Not by birth, but we do create them, just as a human male is part of the creation of his son or daughter. The bond is made, whether it be from sperm or blood.” He sighed. “The difference is, we, vampires, select who we want to be our Child and then pray, when their year is over, they will still remain.”
“But they don’t, you said.”
“Some may, for a few years. But eventually they all take off, leaving me behind, bereft and alone again. Humans believe we have no heart, no soul, but we do and I invest mine fully in my Child. You may think me crazy, but when he, or she, deserts me, I retreat. I vow never to do it again. Never to be hurt again.”
“And yet, in the end, you dotry again,” Scott replied, compassion in his voice.