“I have done you the courtesy of calling you Walter. Can you not do me the same kindness and call me Jonathan?”
“You were Jehan to me, and then Jacques. How many other names have you had?”
“Eleven. How many have you had, Waltheri?”
“I don’t change my first name,” Walter said, stretching out his jaw from the last slap. “I actually like who I am.”
Jonathan chuckled, and the sound of his laughter made Walter shiver. He pulled against the chords tying him to the chair. They weren’t wrapped all that tightly. He could rip free of them if he tried. If he could only make himself try.
“I wonder if that’s where the legend of the mirror came from,” Jonathan said. He was walking around behind Walter, taking heavy steps so his brother could follow where he was. “You know, about how vampires - like me - don’t show up in the mirror? Do you think that people assumed we’d be unable to look at ourselves, given enough time?”