The vampire sat across from him. Her gaze was intense. Fixed. Unreadable. Her eyes stayed on him even as she reached behind her to steer.
“Elisabeth,” she said. “Unless you read my mind also.”
“I…” Kieran stumbled. She’d given her name, something identifiable, which shortened his life further. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. She’d implied she knew he had abilities of his own. “I did not.”
“You can, though.”
“Read minds?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Kieran said.
“But you can read something.”
Did she know, or was she guessing? Even his own family rarely spoke of their gifts. The Sullivans, the family of his mother, were notoriously cagey about their magic. It was often the unspoken dark void in any room they were in together, even as cousins moved their drinks across the table or conjured ice into their bourbon when they ran out.
“I guess.”
“What can you read? People?”
You’re not a person. “Sort of. Emotions. I don’t know.”
Elisabeth grinned. “You do know. I could know, too. I could read your mind.”
“Why haven’t you?”
She shrugged, angling the boat around a bend. “Read me.”
Kieran swallowed hard. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t, because…” he didn’t finish. But it also wasn’t true. He could read her, and had. But he would maintain what little power he had left, no matter how ephemeral.
“Ahh,” she replied. “We can read one another. Those of us who can read emotions, that is. We can read you as well.”
“Guess it doesn’t work in reverse.”
Elisabeth said nothing. Her blond hair caught the wind as the boat picked up speed.
“I really need to know if you’re going to kill me,” he ventured once more. His heart pounded in his chest. What if she said yes? And even if she said no… could he trust it? If he was a killer, he’d probably lie to keep his victim calm.
“I need to think,” she said after a pause.
“To think about killing me?”
“You can stop talking now.”
Time passed in sluggish fashion. Kieran tried to take in his surroundings, in case he could later retrace his steps in fearful flight, but he was too nervous to focus and soon realized he’d retained nothing. He watched a pelican land upon a tree cresting out of the swamp. He wondered if this was his last pelican sighting. His last time on a boat. His last—
“We’re here,” the vampire said.
6
Elisabeth
The first thing she did was bind Kieran’s hands to the beam at the center of the cabin. It could hardly even be considered support anymore, if it ever had been, with the rotting, bowing wood, but Kieran didn’t know that, and she was banking on him not finding out, either.
The second thing she did was kick herself for sharing her real name.
The decision stemmed from the same weakness her family accused her of letting take over. She felt bad that she’d known his name when he knew nothing about her. She’d somehow forgotten that he wasn’t supposed to have any knowledge or upper hand. That was the whole point of this relationship. He was her victim! She should have killed him back in New Orleans!
What new failure would she deliver next? Tell him she was a vampire? Spill their entire sordid history?
Maybe he’d guessed. He already knew she wasn’t quite human.
Once he was secured, Elisabeth stepped onto the small porch and threw her head back, exhaling.
She wished her mother, Marie Louise, were here. Nathaniel de Blanchefort had married her for love, at a time when it was nearly unheard of for the eldest son to follow his heart, but the family welcomed her and began to have hopes she could join them for what the de Blancheforts called their second life. Unlike other outside husbands and wives whose minds were too small to grasp the potential, Marie Louise aided her husband in teaching their children to hunt and to safely exist in a world where there were more men than dhampir.
She’d been the one to assure Elisabeth that there was not only one way to be a dhampir. That her heart did not make her less effective, but perhaps, an even more evolved creature than others sharing her blood and gift. Elisabeth, who had not been given the gift willingly at all, had known from the very start she was not cut out to be a killer of anyone. Her mother understood this and secretly vowed to help her find another way. Then take the gift with me, Mama. We can learn together.
Oui, mon cher. Ensemble.
But then Marie Louise had filled her pockets with rocks and walked into the Mississippi. She’d left no final words. On Elisabeth’s desk, she’d draped the locket passed down through the women in her family.
Elisabeth’s hand went to it now. The aging gold was tarnished, the clasp brittle and no longer able to open without falling apart.
She peeked inside the door. Kieran wasn’t struggling against his bindings anymore. His head had fallen forward, chin to his chest. Weary. Perhaps defeated.
She really hadn’t meant to kill that girl. She only wanted to see the carnival, with the bright lights and sugary treats, the happy sounds of excited children carrying down the fairway. She’d never known what that was like, but there, she could pretend. She could close her eyes and imagine she had been born for something else.
It was her fault for not drinking before coming to town. Her great-aunt Victorine kept a cellar full of thieves and brigands, her blood slaves, for just this occasion. Elisabeth sometimes snuck down there to satisfy her craving; usually in her weakest moments. Without fail, each time she hated herself more, but it was safer than venturing into town and having something like tonight happen.
In her strongest moments, she satisfied herself with deer from the bayou, a choice that horrified almost everyone who loved her. In her weakest…
What was she thinking, following them into the funhouse? Two went in, none should have come out.
But one did, and he was now tethered in the cabin her
