How Old Is Jacob Day Novels & Stories

Dedari inquired, taking the same stance as Jacob, his eyes cutting across the confines of the thick forest. Jacob swallowed down a dry spittle, not knowing how to answer the question at first. What was it and this person’s age? He thought, still looking around him for any sign of the undead. He should be done this quickly, so that he could get hold of a laptop. He needed to erase his data out of the government system before Dedari and the others could find out his real age. "Have you lived so long that you have forgotten your real age?" Dedari asked, turning aside to look at Jacob for a quick moment before continuing to prod the forest with his eyes and magic. So far, none of the vampires ha

“The longer we wait, the more time he has to plan his next move. We end this now.” The front door creaked as I pushed it open, the stale air within carrying the scent of mildew and decay. My boots crunched against broken glass as I stepped inside, my eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through boarded-up windows. The house was a skeleton of itself, the walls peeling and the floors warped, but it still bore the scars of its history. A few faded photos hung crookedly on the wall, the faces within barely visible beneath layers of grime. Jacob was sitting in a battered armchair in the corner of the room, a glass of whiskey in his hand and a smirk on his face. His dark hair was disheveled,

“They were young. Only eighteen or so. It wasn’t until he was my current age that he realized he needed an heir.” Well, needed may be a strong word. More like wanted, but I don’t clarify that out loud as it doesn’t really matter. “How old are you?” Vanessa asks. “Twenty-nine,” I say. “Jake and Jordan are both thirty.” “And you went to Carnage Island seven years ago, right?” I nod, confirming the history Jordan gave her. “We were all twenty-two at the time. I’m only a few months younger than Jake and Jordan .” They have summer birthdays while I have a fall one. But that’s not important.

Jacob said Yeah....yay

“So what’s your question?” I stared at his good-looking face. I just noticed now that his eyes were pitch black and every time he blinks, the color suddenly changes into golden brown. His face gets closer to me, but not close enough that we would kiss. Just enough for us to see each other clearly and closely. Jacob is already twice my age, his son is years older than me. And yet he remained that silent power within him. “I really don’t have any question. I just wanted to say something since it seemed like we’re just gonna spend the whole time in this room with silence.”

Sorry, I meant the worms. "Connor Davinger", Jacob whispered with a cunning smile, sounding menacing as I entered the limo, the door closing behind me with a snap. I looked up as Jacob burned a stare into me. "Goes to our local university, graduated from Moon High School, moved here with his uncle when he was six, clean record, too clean if you ask me", Jacob listed out, his voice deepening to a growl. "Should I continue?" "What do you want?", I whispered, clenching my hands against the seat.

He really did not know who she actually was and what was she capable of. "No, No, No I am not the son of any militiaman, I am just a peasant who has this secret of yours and believe me, I can be scarier than a son of a militiaman. Now that if you have had a taste of your own medicine, you can go or I can make you go by saying more embarrassing things." Jacob was fuming but didn't dare to do anything and left stomping. He was just a 17-year-old boy after all, who was unnecessarily proud. If his father got to know that he got into a fight and that too taking the family’s name then he would be dead for sure.

We kissed again, and instead of breakfast, we made love as we had been waiting for the day his ex-wife interrupted us. I spent the whole day with Jacob, we made love, we made food, and we gave life to each other, it was a dream day, I returned to my little apartment, with the pile of bags, with the rent money, and more in love than words could describe, for it was the truth, ever since I'd met Jacob Reynolds at the bar, I knew it was for me. Even if he was eighty years old.

And I am sure dad will brush it off as some fancy word. “Not anyone in particular...” “What’s up with you, Jacob?” “What do you mean?” “You haven’t dated in a while. Why?” He gets up to refill his drink. The question itself is odd, But I answer truthfully anyway, “Haven’t found anyone in particular I like.” He looks at me sharply and then asks in a disdainful tone. “Have you fucked any girls yet or you haven’t even done that?” I am taken aback by his bluntness. I don’t like him standing and me sitting like a little boy. So I get up from my chair.