“Yes.” The twitch at the corner of her mouth was as close as she’d come to a smile. “Is she not?”
“Tell me about Oleg.”
Her mouth twitched again. “It’s difficult to remain hidden in this world, isn’t it?”
“Which is so weird, because the humans aren’t supposed to know about us.”
“Be serious. Don’t you think most of them know?”
Ben remembered Chloe’s shock when she’d woken up to see Tenzin hovering, fangs out, in their loft in New York. “I think there are a lot of people who don’t know a thing.”
“Then they’re blind.” She glanced up. “Did you always know?”
“No.” He debated how much to tell her, but he decided to offer something to see if she’d open up. “I was twelve. I picked a vampire’s wallet.”
“You tried?”
“Succeeded. Not to brag, but I did. He tracked me down and ended up adopting me.”
“That’s interesting.” She glanced up again. “I was in university.”
“Same as my aunt.”
“I doubt that.” She took a breath. “It wasn’t a pleasant revelation, but I overcame it.”
“So Oleg isn’t your sire?”
She let out a string of unintelligible curses that got the humans laughing. “No. Praise God he is not my sire,” she muttered. “That asshole.”
“Clearly you’re a big fan.”
“He’s a manipulative son of a bitch.”
“Aren’t they all?”
Tatyana looked up. “You tell me. You’ve known them longer than I have.”
Ben didn’t know how to answer her. When he was with Tenzin, he found it easy to call himself a monster. But when he was confronted with calling his aunt or uncle a monster, he felt strangely protective.
“You’ll find your people,” he said quietly. “Eventually you’ll find them.”
“I hope so.”
She put on a good front, but Ben sensed nothing but fear from her. “So what brings you to the Dawn Caravan?”
“What brings anyone?” She lifted the spoon and waved the scent of the stew in front of her face. “I heard about it. I needed to get away. I needed…” She shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea.”
What had she been about to say? What could the Dawn Caravan have that would draw a vampire on the run? Ben glanced around.
Poshani women and children. The young ones ran between the trailers and buses in the swiftly dimming light as human guards roamed the perimeter and vampire guards hovered overhead.
Ah. Of course. “You’re afraid of him.”
“Of who?” She looked up with blank eyes.
“You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
“Sorry, I really don’t.”
She was afraid of Oleg, hiding in a place where protection was guaranteed and Oleg the fearsome Russian fire vampire wouldn’t dare trespass even with all his influence and wealth.
Ben had a feeling that Tatyana had booked her caravan for the whole season.
“What will you do when winter comes?”
Her eyes were all innocence. “Be on my way of course.”
Ben wasn’t so sure that Tatyana was an innocent. Maybe she hadn’t stolen the goblet initially, but what if she happened to find it in her possession? Surely the Poshani would trade anything for their priceless treasure even if it meant bending the rules for a vampire on the run.
“Here.” She held out a bowl of stew. “Wipe that smile off your face and eat.”
“Does my smile really annoy you that much?”
“You look like a crocodile,” she muttered, “with too many teeth.”
Ben hadn’t laughed that freely in months.
* * *
Tenzin looked up when she heard his laughter. Glorious. What had the young woman said?
For the thousandth time, Tenzin debated her strategy. Perhaps she was wrong to follow him so closely? Perhaps he needed to take a few immortal lovers so that he wouldn’t regret—
No.
Her amnis recoiled at the thought, as did her memory. He already belonged to her. She just had to be patient.
Benjamin loved her, and his anger was natural. When he let his temper cool, he would return to her. What was two years? The blink of an eye. The snap of her fingers. Two years was nothing.
Two years was everything.
She hungered for him. When they touched, his amnis roared over her like a crashing wave while hers waited like a tiger. She had to resist the urge to sink her teeth into his flesh and never let go.
She wanted to drown in him, not listen to him laughing at the jokes of another woman.
Her fangs ached in her mouth.
She sipped the glass of blood-wine Radu had poured for her and watched the humans dancing in front of the fire.
“I know you suspect me,” Tenzin said to Radu. “But I am not your enemy. If I was, he wouldn’t even be here.”
“You’re very confident you can control him.”
“Control him?” She smiled. “It doesn’t work that way with Ben.”
Radu glanced toward the kitchen. “I haven’t seen a newborn like him in a very long time.”
“You haven’t seen a newborn like him ever.” The wine was delicious with a hint of berry flavoring the iron tang of blood. “He is unique.”
“Those we love always seem unique.”
“Do you know what happened to all my sire’s other sons?” Tenzin leaned forward.
Radu said, “The world was once a much more violent place. Wars, famines, conflict—”
“I killed them all,” Tenzin said quietly, staring at Radu. “And I didn’t do it for power. I didn’t want their land or their authority. I didn’t want their people or resources.”
Radu stared at her, unflinching. “Why do you tell me this?”
“I’m not after your throne, but others are.”
“Others are always after my throne.”
She glanced at Ben. “We all see what we want to see, Radu. If we take a step back, sometimes the picture becomes clear.”
26
He flipped his pencil in the air, end over point. “Who are the two most likely culprits?”
“Based on what we know so far?” Tenzin was playing some app on her tablet with a rubber-tipped stylus. “Madina and Fynn.”
“Not Darius?”
“Not Darius. I told you, no ambition.”
“I really want it to be René,” he muttered. “Are you sure it’s not René?”
“Yes, Benjamin. Very sure.”
“Why?”
It had been a week since he’d joined
