The door opens, and Silas saunters in to their cottage. Why he bothered to knock is anyone's guess.

"Brother! Are you still doing that experiment of yours?" His eyes flicker quickly over Eli's face. "Why yes, you still are. How long has it been now, four years?"

"Five, nearly." Eli sets his book down on the table and stands. His emulations of humanity are entirely unnecessary, of course, but he likes the reminders of how they do things. "Are you still up to your usual antics with women?"

"If by that you mean playing with my food before I eat it, yes. Don't worry, I'm not leaving trails of exsanguinated prostitutes for anyone to get excited about."

Eli sighs. "No, I'm sure you aren't. Why are you here?"

"To catch up with my dear brother, who I love and want to make sure hasn't been buried in ancient tomes since the last time I saw him?"

Silas laughs. "No, you're right. I have a question about... vampire and human biology, as it were."

"Do tell."

"Female vampires cannot, of course, become pregnant, but have you come across any reports or rumors of male vampires fathering a child?"

"I hope for the mother's sake you haven't discovered it's possible empirically."

"Oh no, I don't leave my toys alive after I've played with them. I'm just... curious."

"I've heard rumors of half-vampires," Eli admits after a moment. "Nothing concrete, no firsthand accounts. It might be nothing."

"Or it might not be."

"I do hope you aren't seriously considering having offspring."

"Would that be such a terrible thing, really?"

"Yes."

"Oh, not necessarily, by your standards. We are related, after all."

"Do what you will," Eli says with a sigh. "Try not to get yourself killed doing anything stupid."

"I'm touched. See you in another five months, brother."

Silas continues to drop by a few times a year, frequently telling Eli far more than he cares to know about the limits of the human body when subjected to violent sexual activity. Rape quickly features less in Silas's stories, however, replaced by what he considers amusing anecdotes about his attempts to seduce women into sleeping with him willingly. The deaths of his partners-or-victims take longer to fade, until during one visit in 2002:

"My last one actually caught, though the girl -- April, I think, or maybe Amber -- died of, oh, probably excruciatingly rapid pregnancy. But that's one for your books: vampires can, in fact, father children. No guarantees of getting a living one at the end of it, though."

"Fascinating," Eli says drily. "I don't suppose you've satisfied your curiosity."

"Dear, dear brother," Silas says patronizingly. "Why would you think I have?"

"The waning hope that you might not inflict your existence on a helpless child."

"I'll ignore that for the sake of your good looks," Silas replies.

It takes another year for Silas to share more progress, but when he does, it comes in the form of him entering Eli's cottage holding the hand of a young, heavily pregnant Indian woman, her movements slightly jerky and her eyes glassy and unfocused. "This is Myra," Silas says proudly. "She's nearly three weeks along, and I think my baby might actually make it."

Myra, beyond being obviously puppeted by Silas's witch power, has a sickly gray pallor to her skin and an unnatural thinness everywhere besides her distended belly.