After that her memories faded to broken glimpses. A shattered dish. A mix of shouts and growls. Something solid striking her chest then flying through the air. Sharp pain upon impact. Lying on her side as she watched a beast carry a limp Spice out the broken front door. Then darkness.
“Sugar?”
She jumped. “They attacked our home looking for Katrina. When they couldn’t find her, they took my sister instead.” Glancing at her lap, she noticed her right hand had knotted her pants in a death grip. Consciously, she relaxed her fist and smoothed out the wrinkles. “A bride for a bride was their thinking. They struck me as if I’d been a shifter. The hit broke all my ribs on the left side, puncturing my left lung and bruising the right one. The trauma caused a blood clot that traveled to my brain, and it caused the stroke.”
“And Daedalus left you in this state? Are you sure he cares?”
She chewed her mouthful with slow, deliberate motions then swallowed. “He cares. He didn’t leave my side while I was in the hospital. Even bribed the hospital to secure my room from sunlight.” She gave him a sharp look. “You’re awfully chatty all of a sudden. You barely spoke a word during our drive.”
A huge grin spread across his face. “Daedalus wouldn’t agree with you. I reminisced with him the whole way.” He tapped his head.
Telepathy. Daedalus rarely used that talent, so she had forgotten he possessed it.
“Why are you so certain of his affection?” Pallas had the whole creepy serial-killer aura around him. He needed to work on his people skills if he ever wanted to fit into modern society.
“He’s offered to make me a vampire. I refused.”
He sat straighter in his chair and assessed her with incredulity. “Why do you cling to a broken body? Is it to make him feel guilty?”
She made a noise of disgust. “Don’t be stupid. I cling to my humanity.” Let him chew on that while she finished her snack. For a vampire, he’d made excellent choices in food combinations.
Using his unnatural strength, he moved the heavy armchair to face hers. “Why?”
“Uh, I am who I am.”
“You’re quoting the bible. Exodus 3:14: God said to Moses, ‘I AM WHO I AM. Say this to the people of Israel, I AM has sent me to you.’”
It was her turn to raise her eyebrow. “And you didn't explode into flames.”
He burst out laughing and leaned back in his chair, legs sprawled on each side of hers. “You sound disappointed. Truly, you have no desire to be one of us? You wouldn’t need this anymore.” He tapped the tip of his boot against her cane.
A knot developed in her stomach as her gaze landed on where he kicked. “I’m aware.” She regarded him in silence for a moment. “How did you decide to cross over?”
“I never had to. The choice was made for me. At the time, the Nosferatu clan’s numbers had been decimated by internal wars.” He curled his arm and flexed his large biceps. “I was big and strong for the time, so I was taken. Daedalus was made not long after. We trained together.”
She took a large swig of wine to ease the sudden dryness in her throat. Daedalus’s past was a mystery. He hinted at being ashamed of his actions, once saying only recent centuries could he consider himself a good person. She wouldn’t hold history against him though. All she wanted was to have an idea of what shaped him as a person.
Pallas offered her a glimpse of the knowledge she craved. “Did you change?” She continued staring at her cane, unable to meet his piercing stare. He appeared curious about her. It only seemed courteous that they make a small exchange of information.
“Of course I changed. I wasn’t born bald.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She peeked at him from under her eyelashes.
He steepled his fingers under his chin as he regarded her with intense interest. “Is this what you fear? That becoming a vampire would change you?”
“As a person. Yes. The others tell me I worry for nothing, but I’ve witnessed it in my sister. She’s not the same person I grew up with.” She took a deep breath as if starved for air, not realizing she’d been breathing shallow during their conversation. “She’s more…feral.”
“It suits her.” A small smile appeared on his lips. “Do you love her less for it?”
She sat straighter in her chair. “No.” But she feared her sister more. “I don’t want to change.”
“Ah.” He rested his chin on his fingertips. “That’s boring.”
She blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Everything must change, otherwise it becomes stagnant, like pond water. Maybe you are a minnow lost in the murk?” A fang glinted in the dim light as he grinned. “From your expression, Sugar, I’d say I was right.”
She schooled the shock on her face to something more pleasant. Pallas had summarized her life after knowing her for one day, and the truth stung. The balm to her bruised ego lay asleep in his bed. Was it true? Had her depression been the symptom of her refusal to change? If she’d accepted Daedalus’s offer sooner, she wouldn’t have been this injured.
Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of those thoughts. They’d drive her nuts. “Enough.” She rose onto shaky legs. “Thank you for lunch, but I should retire if I’m to stay awake tonight.” She hobbled toward the exit.
“Yes, the evening should prove to be amusing.” Pallas chuckled.
Chapter Eight
The Vasi returned with less information than Daedalus had expected. They gathered around the long kitchen table, faces haggard, except Stephen, who busied himself with cooking at the stove.
Daedalus had never spent time in his own kitchen before. Why would he? The rest of his home lacked the comfy ambiance this area provided. Pale, butter-yellow walls surrounded the industrial-sized steel appliances. Fresh herbs hung on the wall by the stove with a rope of garlic, making the air heavy with their scents. Nicks in the solid wooden table showed that it was used for preparing food as well as eating.
His chest rang hollow. He’d never once sat with any of his staff during a meal. Not like he did with the Vasi. He might not be capable of consuming food, but a glass of wine was possible. The tradition of sharing a meal, especially among shifters, represented more than consumption. It was a time of bonding. He’d never formed such strong ties with his mortal staff. This would change, and he hoped Sugar would stay to help him improve things. He’d like this place to become a home.
With a flick of his finger, he flipped through pictures on his tablet to memorize the faces of those he hunted.
Robert, being the computer whiz, had gained access to the security systems and obtained access codes for each house. Daedalus didn’t ask how. The explanation would take all night, and he’d understand ten percent of it.
Sam and Esther had taken these digital pictures of the houses. The windows were sealed, so they couldn’t get any pictures of the present occupants. Each home consisted of a vampire nest, protection in numbers. How many each held depended on how insecure the master felt. He’d have to rely on the pictures they had taken the last time they’d been here.
“Stephen, have you heard anything new of my nest?” He’d sent them away not long after Esther had tried to kill him. In her human life, she had been a slayer. Some people just couldn’t forgive vampires for their pasts and continued murdering his kind for money. Daedalus had reconciled with Esther when she had joined the pack. He couldn’t protect his people from illegally hired slayers when he lived in Chicago.
“Sure.” Stephen set plates of steak and chicken in the center of the table. “Mostly they ask about you. They’re worried.”