Darryl let out a weary scoff. “I’ve been saying that for over twenty years, but no one cares. Who’re you, anyway? More attorneys? People from the Innocence Project?”
“We’re vampires,” Vlad said with his usual bluntness.
I let out a small laugh to fill the instant, disbelieving silence. “Bet you didn’t expect to meet two of those today.”
“Guard,” Darryl called out, sounding pissed instead of tired now. “Get these crazy motherfuckers out of—”
His voice cut off abruptly when Vlad’s eyes went green and he smiled wide enough to show his fangs.
“I don’t have time for a detailed explanation, so understand this,” Vlad said, staring into Darryl’s eyes. “Vampires are real. We’ve existed for millennia, and we’re not the only supernatural species above humans on the food chain.”
Under the powerful effect of his gaze, Darryl had no choice except to believe. I had to give it to Vlad; this way was much faster than going through the usual motions of breaking the news, then dealing with a person’s denial, questions, demands for proof, and hysterics, usually in that order.
“What do you want from me?” Darryl asked in a dull voice.
Vlad’s smile disappeared as he leaned forward. “What would you do if I made you what I am tonight, giving you more power and abilities than you could ever imagine?”
“I’d leave this place,” Darryl replied, still in the monotone that said his answers were compelled by Vlad’s gaze.
“Wouldn’t you want to kill everyone who put you here?” Vlad almost purred. “The police, judges, lawyers, witnesses?”
“Bernstein,” Darryl said after thinking for a moment. “Cop knew I didn’t do it, that’s why he planted the evidence in my car. Phillips, too. Guard’s murdered more people than half the inmates in here.”
“Why do you want to know who he’d like to kill?” I asked.
“I want a hardened man, not a mass-murdering, pathologically vengeful one,” Vlad said. “There’s only room for one of those in my line right now, and that’s me.” To Darryl, he asked, “And would you give up your humanity to leave this place, knowing you would never see anyone from your former life again?”
“My family gave up on me a long time ago.” Not even his monotone could remove all of the pain from that single sentence. “To them, I’m already dead. If I don’t get out, I’ll be dead for real in two weeks, so if there’s a way to live, I want it.”
Vlad glanced away from Darryl, gesturing to an upper corner of the room. “See that camera, Leila? Short-circuit it.”
“Are we actually about to attempt a prison break from Death Row?” Would vampire mind control be enough to accomplish that without resorting to violence, too?
Vlad’s instant laughter made my suggestion seem preposterous. “No. That would cause far too much attention.”
Okay, then I didn’t know why short-circuiting the camera was necessary, but I did it. By the time I turned around, Vlad was already behind Darryl, his mouth at the other man’s neck.
“You’re doing it now?” I asked in disbelief.
He paused, fangs mere millimeters from Darryl’s throat. “You really need me to explain why sending one of my men to pick him up later won’t work under these circumstances?”
“But—”
Vlad didn’t wait for me to ask more questions. He bit deeply and Darryl shuddered, a harsh grunt escaping him as he tried to jerk away, but the restraints and Vlad’s grip kept him immobilized. Only Darryl’s eyes were able to move, and when his gaze landed on me, I couldn’t look away.
I’d seen many people die through my abilities. Lately, the deaths I’d seen had been in person, sometimes with me wielding the killing blow. This was different, maybe because I’d never seen someone being changed over before. I’d been unconscious during my transformation, and Vlad hadn’t drunk me to death as he was now doing with Darryl. I’d bled out from the effects of Cynthiana’s spell and a nasty car accident, so all Vlad had done was refill me with his blood before it was too late.
Or, I’d thought that was all he’d done. After Darryl’s heart stopped beating and Vlad opened his own jugular with a single hard slice, positioning Darryl’s mouth over it, the real work began. I felt it in the surge of energy that seemed to explode from Vlad, sending almost painful vibrations throughout the room. As potent as that was, his dropped shields revealed that the majority of his power was being funneled into Darryl, willing new life into him with far more force than the blood that Vlad forced Darryl to swallow.
Soon, that slack mouth began to seal over Vlad’s neck, until Darryl was biting and sucking with a ferocity that made the knife Vlad had used before unnecessary. He held that dark head to his throat and willed more of his power into Darryl, until, with a violent tremor that snapped his restraints free from the table, Darryl went still.
Vlad wiped the blood from Darryl’s mouth before he let the man slump forward onto the table. Then he wiped his own neck and rebuttoned his shirt, covering the stray red blotches still dotting his skin. That’s it? I almost said, but the answer was obvious. From start to finish, the entire process of life, death, and undead transformation had taken only about five minutes.
Vlad looked at me, his mouth curled into a slight smile. “Did you still have a question, Leila?”
“Yeah,” I said, still processing what I’d seen. “How do we get him out of here before he wakes up and eats everyone?”
Vlad opened the door, gesturing the guard over with a casual swipe. “This man has suffered a fatal heart attack,” he said, his eyes turning green. “Do all of your normal documentation for accidental deaths, but do them quickly. The body will be picked up by the coroner in exactly three hours.”
“Yes, sir,” the guard replied.
“Coroner, huh?” I said, with a knowing look.
He pulled out his cell phone, texting with his usual blinding speed. “Yes, as well as a few extra passengers.”
Vlad mesmerized several more key personnel on our way out, until no one would question his version of Darryl’s death or remember that we’d come, let alone question the video disruption in the room during the inmate’s “heart attack.” By the time he was finished—a mere half hour after leaving Darryl—I was shaking my head in admiration. He was right; a prison break would have been ridiculously splashy by comparison.
When we were back in our car, pulling away from the prison, I said, “I have another question. Why do you only pick men?”
He almost rolled his eyes before glancing at me. “Perhaps because we’re recruiting soldiers for a supernatural war.”
I wasn’t letting him off that easily. “Don’t think it’s escaped my notice that over eighty percent of the vampires in your line are men, too.”
“In my time, nearly every army was exclusively male.”
“Don’t give me that ‘I’m from the fifteenth century’ defense,” I said with a snort. “Marty told me that all new vampires start out with roughly the same power level, with lineage and character making the difference later as to strength and abilities. Your people come from all cultures, races, and social statuses, yet they’re mostly one big sausage fest.”
“You want me to subject women to the brutal circumstances of war?” His tone was scornful. “You of all people know what would happen if one of them was captured.”
“And you of all people know that being a male doesn’t always shield you from that,” I replied, my voice soft. “My point is, when you’re recruiting, you should give women the same options you’re giving men, and let them decide what they can and can’t handle.”
He opened his mouth as if to argue further. Then he shut it, flashing me a genial smile.
“Very persuasive points. Therefore, feel free to make as many female vampires as you deem necessary for this war.”
“Me?” I exclaimed “No. I mean, I don’t know how—”
“You saw: bite, bleed, replenish,” he said, ticking the items off on his fingers. “
Easier than baking a cake.”
I glared at him. “My ass it’s easier, and have you forgotten the tiny issue where I electrocute everyone I touch?”
He made a dismissive gesture. “Not to worry, you’ll bleed them out long before you electrocute them to death.”
But I didn’t want to make any new vampires. Transformation issue aside, the responsibilities were weightier than having a child, and I wasn’t ready for that. Plus, I was still struggling with some of the aspects of vampirism myself; how could I be the sire of someone who knew even less about it than I did?
I tried again. “We were talking about your sexism, Vlad. My making female vampires has nothing to do with that.”
“Oh, but it does,” he said, barely controlling the twitch to his lips. “You wanted equality? Here it is. Don’t bother to thank me—your expression is gratifying enough.”
Chapter 30
I was getting used to waking up in different places than I’d fallen asleep in. This time, it was Vlad’s plane, with him next to me and a thermos of warm blood already waiting.
“Where’re we going?” I asked when I finished my breakfast. Or dinner, considering it was dark outside the plane’s windows. Vlad must have brought his new recruits with us. Several people were behind the curtain that separated where we were from the seats closer to the cockpit, and from the multiple heartbeats, at least half of them were human.
“Slovenia,” he replied. “We’re almost there, in fact.”
“Back to Europe, huh?”
“It’s most likely where Szilagyi is. Both his prior lairs were in Europe and he knows I’ll return to my own soil soon. When I do, he’ll want to be close enough to take advantage.”
That’s what I would do, hung unspoken in the air between us. Sometimes, their similarities unnerved me, but where it mattered most, Vlad and Szilagyi were nothing alike. Take, for example, Vlad’s inherent nationalism. My own soil. Romania would always be his home, no matter how many houses he had elsewhere.
Familiar scents behind the curtain had me inhaling with a single, sharp breath. “My dad and Gretchen are on the plane?”
“Yes.” Vlad’s expression darkened. “He wanted to speak with you, if you’re willing to see him.”
He did? As if they’d become sentient, my hands began to fly around my body, smoothing my sleep-tousled hair and brushing imaginary lint from my dress, a soft, long black sheath I hadn’t fallen asleep in.
Vlad watched me, but I couldn’t read anything from his chiseled, striking features.
“No need for that. You’re beautiful, Leila. You always have been, no matter your appearance.”
“Doesn’t appearance make up the majority of beauty?” I said, trying to mask my nervousness with a quip.
“No.” His voice was low, but it vibrated with intensity. “Not in the only way it matters.”
He pulled me to him, kissing me with enough passion to muss my hair back to its former, unruly state. By the time he lifted his head, my mouth and other parts of me were tingling and I could care less what I looked like.
Vlad raised his voice and said something in Romanian. I translated the word “father,” which was icy water on my libido. Moments later, the curtain separating the two sections of the plane pulled back, revealing Samir and Hugh Dalton.
“Voivode,” the handsome, black-haired guard said, bowing before letting the curtain drop. My father stood on this side of it, his gaze flicking from me to Vlad and back again. His features might have been schooled into his usual officer’s mask, but from his scent, he was more nervous about this than I was.
“Hello, Leila,” he said uncomfortably.
“Hugh,” Vlad replied before I could say anything, his mouth curling into a hostile smirk. “You’ve finally summoned the courage to face your daughter. You’ll be relieved to know that she recently fed, so you needn’t fear that she’ll go for your throat if you come any closer.”
My gaze slid to him with mild shock. Talk about not trying to smooth things over with small talk!
“Hi, Dad,” I said, rising out of habit. Then I didn’t know what to do. Go over and shake his hand? Attempt a hug or a peck on the cheek? Neither sounded like a good idea, so I just stood there, feeling the awkwardness creep into my bones.
My father cleared his throat. “You, ah, look good.” He sounded surprised, which was more than a little insulting until I remembered the last images he would have seen of me: bald, skinned, and screaming in agony.
The memory brought back a shiver I couldn’t suppress. Vlad rose, too, his arm settling almost casually around my shoulders.
“You’re unnerved by me, so you wish I’d leave the two of you alone to talk?” Vlad snorted. “Your personal discomfort means nothing to me, Hugh . . . wait, that’s not true. I enjoy it.”
My father stiffened, either at the words or how Vlad had read his mind.
“Vlad, what are you doing?” I asked in a low voice.
He didn’t reply. Just continued to aim his fuck-you smile at my dad, as if daring him to get offended enough to leave. Wow, did he really hate my father that much? If so, why had he brought him on the same plane with us? He hadn’t the other times he’d flown my dad and Gretchen to the same places we’d been to . . .
All at once, I realized why Vlad was acting this way. By provoking my father, he was testing his resolve. If Hugh wasn’t truly serious about wanting to mend some fences with me, he could use Vlad’s taunts as an excuse for walking away. Again.
And so could I, came my next realization. Vlad wasn’t just doing this to test my dad. He was also providing a balm for the wound he expected my father to inflict on me. After all, if I was mad at Vlad for supposedly running my father off, then I wasn’t hurting as much over my dad rejecting me again.
I slid my arm around Vlad’s waist. Even with his aura tamped down and his emotions shuttered, he pulsated with more energy than a live wire. He could decimate the man glaring at him, yet my dad didn’t know what I did: that love motivated Vlad, even in his current rudeness. Talk about beauty that defied appearances.
“Dad,” I said steadily, “I want to talk to you, too, but Vlad stays. I know you don’t like him and he’s not being shy about how pissed he is at you, but it’s vampire custom that a husband and wife remain together under all circumstances, so you need to get used to us being a package deal.”
Vlad’s shields cracked and a wave of pleasure rubbed my subconscious. In response, I tightened my grip around him. After everything we’d been through, I meant my declaration of unity, and it covered more than this exchange with my father.
I couldn’t read minds, but my father’s scent sharpened and his leg muscles tensed as if readying to carry him away. I braced, sad that his impending rejection felt familiar. While I still had the chance, I told him what I needed to say.
“I love you, Dad, and I want a relationship with you, but I don’t need one, and that has nothing to do with my changing into a vampire. A long time ago, I learned that I could survive without your approval or your love.”
“Leila,” he began, taking a step toward me.
“Don’t.” Briefly, I closed my eyes. “You might want to forgive me for my telling Mom that you cheated on her, but deep down, you haven’t. That’s why you keep pushing me away, but here’s the truth: I didn’t cause Mom to leave you. You did by your actions. I told her about your infidelity out of spite and that’s my sin, but she forgave me.” My voice strengthened. “She forgave both of us, and she still loves us, too. I felt it when I saw her after I died and before Vlad brought me back.”
He took in a harsh breath, his hand trembling so hard that the cane he walked with began to shake. Tears began to trickle in slow trails down my cheeks. Not of sadness this time; of joy at the memory of my glimpse of my mother.
“I’d forgotten the little lines that crinkled around her eyes when she smiled,” I said, my voice huskier. “Or how she smelled like rainwater and freesia. And I hadn’t realized how much I needed to
know that she forgave me until I felt it within every corner of my soul. Maybe you’ve needed to know that, too.”
A tear slipped down his weathered, lined face, and he bowed his head as if embarrassed that I’d seen it.
“Was she . . . where she was, was she happy?” he rasped.
I crossed the short distance to my father, seeing his startled expression as he looked up to find me right in front of him. That’s right; my movements would be a blur to him now.
“Yes, she was happy,” I said, letting the light out of my eyes. Whatever did or didn’t happen in our relationship, I needed him to know that, and if it meant implanting that knowledge with vampire mind control, so be it.
He smiled with a joy I hadn’t seen in years, breaking my heart because it momentarily transformed his face into the one I remembered from my childhood. I couldn’t stop myself from touching his cheek even as I tried to memorize how he looked.
“I love you, Dad,” I whispered, drawing down the power in my gaze. That, he had to choose to believe for himself. Then I left him and walked back over to Vlad. “Why don’t you think things over for a little while?” I said in a normal, controlled voice. “Maybe we can talk again in the near future.”
He blinked as if surprised to realize that, in effect, he’d been dismissed. Then he swiped his cheek and nodded once.
“Yes. That would be . . . nice.” He stumbled over the last word, probably because Vlad was still smiling at him in a way that said he’d enjoy discovering how fast my father could bleed out.
“Take care of yourself,” I said, hoping that Vlad didn’t air any of those thoughts.
My father turned to go, then paused by the curtain. “I know what you’re doing is dangerous, so please, be careful. That video . . . I died a little inside watching it. I won’t ever be the father you deserve, but human or vampire, I still love you.”
He let the curtain fall behind him, not giving me a chance to respond. Maybe that was for the best. We’d both promised to forget the past before and hadn’t been able to, so perhaps it was time we stopped trying to do that and tried instead to accept each other for who we were, flaws, baggage, and all.