He walked away from her. She was like a black shadow flitting about him. He grew frustrated, shoved her so that she went sprawling backwards, skidding on the oak floor nearly fifteen feet before slamming against the wall. He stopped pacing. She leapt up, came striding toward him, raising her hand as if to slap his face. He raised his hand to ward her off, but froze as she produced a dagger from her belt, quickly slashing her own palm. His hazel eyes slid from her intent gaze, fastened on her hand, on the deep red blood spilling across her pale palm, down her slender white wrist into her sleeve.
With a groan he grasped her wrist, pulling her hand to his mouth. She let him slake his thirst before using her free hand to stroke his long, dark, wavy hair. '"Well now," he whispered. "I had no idea."
"I merely suspected," she replied.
He lowered her hand, but didn't let go of it. After licking his lips that had been stained by her blood he said, "You're so young."
"Twenty-seven. Forever more." She smiled almost shyly. He returned her smile. "And your great aunt?"
"Oh, she's human. One hundred percent so."
"But you go out in daylight," he remarked. She nodded. "How?"
She shrugged as he released her wrist after giving her palm a last slow lick. "I don't know. Can't you?"
"Not for very long."
She studied him carefully. "You don't know how long I've been looking for someone like me."
"It has been a very long time since I've encountered another of my own kind," he acknowledged.
Two vampires from different centuries meeting in the ballroom of a mansion under renovation. I believe that was the scenario I was tackling here.