But he was wrong. Her second made her feel worse, and her third caused her to go into hiding for a full year. When at last they found her, shaking and whispering in French, a language she’d not spoken since girlhood, they forced her to drink until she was well again. No one let her out of their sight for several more years, and only then when she convincingly lied and said she was well past her disgust of killing.
Not Victor. Victor had known she was lying, just as he’d known all those years before that she needed special convincing that none of the others did.
Perhaps we should once again hunt the Rougarou, mon cher. Return to our most favorite place.
He isn’t real, Papa.
Is that what you took from our years in the swamp? That he is not real? Even when you’ve seen him with your own eyes?
You only took me to speak about the gift, and my reticence.
You have misunderstood me all along, Elisabeth. I took you because there is a lesson in hunting this foul beast. For in slaying him, we protect ourselves, and even the humans you feel such empathy for. We do a service to all. In showing you this, it was my hope you would begin to understand that as dhampir, we do not take life in malice, or in evil, but in necessity. Just as men slay deer to survive upon the meat and fur, so must we slay man for our own survival. The Rougarou is the only beast higher than us on the chain of life, and I had hoped we would finally encounter him so you could face the possibility of your own death, and mine, and understand, finally, utterly, why we must do what we do.
Elisabeth pressed another handful of berries into her bag when she heard the first roar.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Elisabeth shoved the purse to his lap and went to the kitchen, pacing.
“You know I can’t eat these with my hands tied, right?”
“Then don’t eat.”
“Elisabeth, what happened out there?”
“Stop talking.”
“Are you hurt?”
Elisabeth spun around. “You know why I brought you here, Kieran? Because if my family discovers that I allowed a witness to live, they would not only kill you, but would dispose of you in a way that your family would never have closure. I don’t think you fully appreciate that you should be dead right now.”
Kieran’s face darkened. “You’re wrong about that. It’s all I can think about. That, and why you haven’t just done it already. What you’re waiting for.”
“I was hoping...” Elisabeth buried her face in her hands. Her memory was again drawn to the sound. It couldn’t be. There were so many creatures that called the Louisiana bayou home. It could’ve been anything. “It may not matter now.”
“Look, I know I’m just prey to you, but maybe that will make it easier for you to just talk to me. I’ll be gone soon, anyway, so anything you say will die with me. I’m free therapy.”
His words made Elisabeth abruptly and unexpectedly sad. She didn’t catch the emotion quick enough to hide it from her face. He probably saw it. “You said you don’t believe in the Rougarou.”
“I didn’t think anyone seriously did. It was something our parents told us to keep us in line.”
“I do,” Elisabeth said. “My grandfather does. I assure you, those whose final seconds of life were staring into its orange eyes do.”
“Did,” Kieran corrected, and Elisabeth was so taken aback by his strange attempt at humor that she breathed out a clipped laugh. “Why bring it up?”
“I heard something. Never mind.” She looked at the bag of smushed berries in his lap.
“I know you don’t wanna feed me yourself. Untie me. I’m not going anywhere. Between you and a swamp I don’t recognize, I’ve got nowhere to run.”
She didn’t think he could escape, but untying him meant he would be moving around the cabin, and it would give her one more thing to have to keep an eye on. But he was right. She didn’t want to feed him. Didn’t want to look into his eyes as she gave him sustenance, knowing she still might very well take his life.
You have to take his life. You don’t have a choice. They’ll know. Victor will know, and to punish you for breaking the one sacred rule, he will make this one suffer. To remind you.
“All right,” she said. “But don’t give me a reason to kill you.”
“You mean another reason?”
She almost smiled.
When he was free, he rifled through the bag, trying his best to hide his amusement at her haphazard collection of blackberry mush. He looked up, forcing a smile, shoving a handful of the purple ooze into his mouth.
“You don’t have to eat that,” she said, but her attention was again drawn to the world outside. Was that another howl? The last of the day’s light had disappeared. If she had to go searching in the darkness...
“Something is bothering you. Other than not killing me.”
“It must be my imagination,” she muttered.
“Do vampires have imaginations?”
Elisabeth shot him a look. “Of course we do. We have all the things we used to have, and more.”
“Did you lose anything, when you took the gift?”
My humanity. “I lost nothing.”
“I didn’t see teeth when you drank my date like she was a bucket of cheap well drinks at the bar.”
“I told you, we’re nothing like your books, or movies. We don’t have fangs.”
“What other myths aren’t true?”
“None of them are true.”
Kieran kept on pushing. “Tell me.”
Elisabeth sighed, one eye on the window. “Garlic. We’re not allergic to it.”
“Do you still eat food?”
“We can. We don’t have to.” There it was again. That howl.
“Crosses?”
“My family is Catholic,” she said with growing impatience. Not impatience. Fear.
“Could you come into my house?”
“Why are you asking me
