I'm twenty-five years old. That's what my Canadian passport says. In reality, I'm two hundred… Hmm, two hundred and something. I don't like to announce my age and I don't count my years. I'm always young and beautiful. Time has no power over me. Only the sun can give me away, so I try not to go out during the day. My time is evening and night. Oh, then I revel in life and my beauty. Two centuries have not changed my tastes: I have always loved being the centre of attention, fun and voluptuousness. The party girl is me. For this reason, my blood relatives, including my siblings, seemed dull, almost righteous: they don't sleep with mortals, don't kill for fun, and keep to the shadows. Only my older brother Martin is somewhat like me, but he too has never "stooped to sex with mortals." Martin understands me. Two years ago I confessed to him that I sleep with mortals, and my brother accepted it. He simply said: "It's your life, Maria. You're an adult vampire." Still, I asked him not to reveal my secret, and to this day, neither my parents, Mscislav, Mariszka, nor Misha are aware of my adventures. Especially Mariszka: I have the worst relationship with her. I am only thirteen years older than her, but we have never understood each other. She's a miss of innocence and decency. It's a wonder she married Markus Morgan, who likes to hunt mortals at his friend Brandon Grayson's estate. Mariszka… Hell, I don't even regret the fact that we barely even speak to each other. But I love my nephew. Almost as much as I love my little sister Misha.
Misha 's my soul mate. I wish I had been with her since she was born, but my own affairs and plans were too distracting, so the first time I saw Misha was when she was ten. She was such an adorable little girl! But after a couple of months, I had to leave. Because of Mariszka. She was always lecturing me that I could have a bad influence on little Misha 's unformed character. I remember with what a painful smile I left the house. I forgave Mariszka. But I haven't forgotten how deeply she insulted me by kicking me out of my parents' house, chasing me away from Misha, whom I love more than all my brothers and sisters put together. Fortunately, she is now in Fredrik's good caring hands. Soon I'll meet them.
I'll meet them all. For the first time in nine years. But my first destination is Oslo. Filming. Entertainment.
Naughty, naughty Maria. And yet, being bad seems to be my calling. To break the hearts and destinies of mortals. Magnificent.
***
My plane landed at Gardermoen, Oslo's large international airport, at nine forty-five in the evening. I had timed my connecting flights perfectly so that I could arrive in the midst of darkness.
September Oslo pleasantly impressed me with its unique and slightly strange beauty, the crowds of tourists and the rapt attention with which all the men in the airport and on the streets of the city stared at me. And yet, the sheer number of beggars, gypsies and fake beggars begging for crowns on the streets disgusted me. They are everywhere, pushy and always jingling the change they have in their paper coffee cups. They know who to approach: they calculate the cost of the victim's outfit without error. That night I was wearing tight blue jeans, a white tight blouse and my favourite eight-inch heels, all couture.
