Bitten to Death

some papers aflame in a wastebasket somewhere.

As grief etched long lines in his cheeks, I blurted, “What were you like?”

He reared back, almost as if I’d slapped him. “What do you mean?”

“When you lived here before. What kind of man—” I shook my head. Why did my brain keep classifying him as human? “What kind of vampire were you?”

He gave Dave and me a long, considering look before he spoke. And then he shrugged. “After the split from Liliana I became a Rogue. It is not an easy life. Vampires are quite territorial. I spent nearly all my waking hours either fighting or moving on. It became tiresome trying to find a new safe spot to rest every morning before the sun rose. So when I met Niall while I was hunting one evening and he did not immediately try to rip my throat out, I began to think perhaps I had found a way to a better life.”

I licked my lips. They’d dried out suddenly when he’d mentioned hunting so casually, like Albert and Dave had right before deer season started, when they’d begun to get their gear in order for opening day. But what he’d meant was that he’d hidden in dark alleyways and abandoned warehouses, waiting for drunken sailors and unsuspecting night owls to stroll by. At which point—

“Did you kill them?” I asked, unable, somehow, to find any tact now that I’d taken this line of questioning. “The people you hunted, I mean? Did they die after you . . .”

He shook his head. “Some vampires kill their prey, but it is only for the pleasure of it. Death is not necessary for sustenance. You know that, Jasmine.” Rebuke in his voice. How could you think that of me? his eyes asked.

Don’t try to bullshit me, I told him in a way he could read clearly on my face. I know you’re a natural-born killer.

As are you, his expression said.

Just so we’re clear.

He inclined his head. “I have destroyed many vampires and their human guardians in my time. More than I can count. While I was a Rogue, I did it to survive. Once I began to walk in the Trust, I killed the ones who threatened our territory. I even smoked a few within the Trust who, for one reason or another, threatened the stability of the group to such a degree that they could not be allowed to continue.” He jerked his head up, almost defensively, as if he could feel me judging him. “I found no joy in it.” He leaned forward. “But it is one of the things I do best.”

“Have you turned anyone besides Disa?” I asked.

“No.”

Dave piped up. “And you can’t think of any way to break this binding?”

“Not as yet. Every Trust is wound with the power of its members. This creates something more that is unique to each community—that power Jasmine has discovered that pulls at me even now. And it builds over generations, so that a century ago the villa I escaped might be compared to a fort. Today it is a citadel. Impassable, yes? This is what Disa used to bind me.”

We nodded. Maybe we’d been naive to think all that shazam would just sit there, pulsing, and not try to manipulate us once it had us in its grasp. Or that the Deyrar wouldn’t use it to further the Trust’s agenda. But that’s what happens in this line of work. Sometimes you don’t have all the background you need before you go in and the risk factor spikes to holy-crap-where’d-we-stash-the- hazmat-suits? Which is why they pay us the big bucks.

“You make the Trust sound impregnable,” I said. “But we got inside.”

“Hamon had opened the way for us. A path Disa had apparently failed to block.”

“Or one she left open,” Dave said. When we turned his way, he added, “I’m sticking with the puppy love theory. It’s just too cute to drop.”

Vayl rolled his eyes. “At any rate, I believe our best hope is to find the true source of her power. Remember what Tarasios said about the masks being spokes of a wheel? Jasmine, with your observations of the power in the Trust’s objects, you have at least given us a place to begin.”

“That could take years, which we mortals don’t have,” said Dave. “Why can’t we just take Disa out?” His casual tone chilled me. It seemed slightly hypocritical, since terminating bad guys was my gig after all. I decided it bothered me because I didn’t want him to be like me. Married people might talk about their better halves. But Dave really was mine. Seeing him go down my road made me all the more determined to detour him. Where was an exhausted, pissed-off construction crew when you needed them?

Vayl said, “Beyond the fact that her life, and death, are now inextricably linked with mine, the Deyrar exists at the center of the Trust, its strong heart. As such, she wields her own power, the Trust’s, and everyone else’s as well. She cannot be denied.”

“You got out,” I said. “That implies that the Deyrar isn’t omnipotent.”

Vayl shrugged. “It took me decades to build the strength. And in the end, it was what Hamon and I both wanted.”

Dave said, “That seems pretty convenient. Care to elaborate?”

Vayl spent some time studying the fountain. “I had begun to realize I was trading safety for freedom, and the price was the erosion of what remained of my—” He glanced up. Tightened his lips. It reminded me so strongly of Bergman’s nunya-bizness look that I smiled. Vayl said, “I realized I did not want to fit into Hamon’s world anymore. But many in the Trust felt my new leanings would serve them better. When I expressed a desire to leave, they asked me to challenge him instead.”

The way Vayl said the word “challenge” let us know he wasn’t referring to a chess match.

Though we all knew the ultimate outcome, none of us mocked Dave when he asked intently, “So what did you do?”

“I had found a new Seer. A Sister of the Second Sight, like Cassandra. She had told me I would meet my sons in America. It was 1921. I had spent one hundred and nine years in the Trust. More time than I had lived anywhere else in all my life. But the possibility of seeing my boys again began to obsess me as it had not in over thirty years.