“No way. Any more than I’d want my work to be reviewed as a sketch when I’d done a full oil painting.”
He shrugged. “You know some of it. I felt bound to give you and Eve some of my background the first time we all met.” He grimaced. “It was kind of a necessity, since I’d just caused a killer to have a massive heart attack in front of her. The only thing that saved me in your eyes was that he was going to kill Joe Quinn, too. That weighed pretty heavy in the balance.”
“Extremely heavy. But we didn’t understand how the hell you could do it, or why it didn’t make you as much a murderer as that monster you’d killed.”
“And sometimes you still have doubts.” His lips twisted. “Because of my inimitable talent with blood? It scares most people. I joke about all those vampire myths, but it still lingers in the mind. Tell me, did you ever have a nightmare about me sucking your blood?”
“No, I have not,” she said in disgust. “I know your talent has nothing to do with that nonsense. Though it’s probably more dangerous. And I remember you said that through the centuries it encouraged those imaginary myths about your family.”
“Yes, and since you want the complete story, let me refresh your memory a little.” He took a sip of coffee. “I come from a very old Spanish family, the Devanezes, who were known to have a number of psychic talents that made them very unpopular with their neighbors. Particularly during the fifteenth century, when they were turned in to the Spanish Inquisition for witchcraft. The entire family had to flee the country or be burned at the stake. The Ridondo brothers, my particular ancestors, chose to settle in the village of Fiero in Italy. They decided the only way they could protect themselves from informers to the church was to keep the villagers terrified of retribution.” His lips twisted. “It worked. They became the scourge of Fiero, the purveyors of the black arts, holding the villagers in thrall for decades. They used the blood talent and their other gifts to make themselves seem to be demons of darkness.” He shrugged. “And perhaps they were. But how much blackness can a soul take? When they decided to leave the village and break free, it was almost too late. They settled a good distance from Fiero. They had children, grandchildren. Time passed.” He grimaced. “With only a few minor incidents that could be called truly wicked. But the call of the blood never entirely goes away, and neither does the knowledge that it’s there ready to be tapped at will. Most of the Ridondo descendants decided it was safer to become hunters, where they could indulge innate violence without falling back into the pit. Our family’s talents were very much in demand with governments and armies and heads of states. Of course we had to pick and choose, but there’s a whole world of monsters out there. It’s not too difficult to find them.”
“As you did?”
“As I did. But I was spurred on by a particularly savage prey that had to be destroyed, as you know.”
“Jelak.” She nodded. “He was a serial killer who devoured the blood of his victims. He had the crazy idea that by drinking the right kinds of blood he could become a kind of vampire God and have supernatural powers. He was connected to a cult that actually sacrificed people whose blood they thought would be of prime value.” Jane shuddered. “Horrible.”
“Yes, and naturally they’d targeted my family. Why not? There were all kinds of stories floating around in the underground about our wicked past.” He paused. “And certain other powers they found very desirable. But they didn’t want to tackle any of the males in the family. They had a certain respect for us.” His expression hardened. “So they went after my half sister, Maria. Jelak kept her alive for a long time, taking her blood, and trying to see if he experienced any surge of power when he drank it. But he was disappointed. She had no power and was weak and died too soon.”
Jane could see the pain as well as the dark fury in his expression. “You don’t have to go into this, Caleb,” she said gently. “You told Eve and I most of this after you destroyed the cult and killed Jelak.” She suddenly went rigid. “Unless you think that Lisa’s situation has anything to do with that same cult?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been monitoring a resurgence possibility ever since that happened. I would have known. It has to be something else.”
“Then why did you bring all this up?”
“Because you have to get the whole picture so that you’ll know I’m the one who has to go find Lisa.”
“Why? I don’t see any connection, then.” She added, “Unless you’re feeling guilty about not visiting her all these years? But you didn’t even mention you had another sister when you told us about Maria.”
“I didn’t tell you about a lot of things then. And I lied about many others.”
“Why?”
“I wanted a place in your lives,” he said simply. “I found you and your family filled … something. So I made myself acceptable. You might have had trouble if you’d known everything about me.”
“Then how do I know you’re not lying now?”
“You don’t. I’m very good at twisting and manipulating the truth. It’s one of my talents. It’s known as the Persuasion. You were very bitter about that particular gift.” He met her eyes. “But I’ve tried not to lie to you since that day. It was at great cost, because I often had to let you see me as I really am. I’m not lying now, Jane.”
And she believed him. Crazy. “And what did you lie about then that has any bearing on what’s happening to Lisa?”
“Eve asked me if I was close to anyone. I told her of course I was close to my family. It was only partially true. Most of my family hated me from the time I was a small child.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He smiled crookedly. “I realize it’s hard to believe when I’m such a charming soul. But I had a few faults that my parents found unforgivable. Imagine that.”
“No small child has unforgivable faults.”
“They do if they exhibit signs that they’re a throwback to family members who are considered completely unacceptable.” He took another swallow of coffee. “Over the last century, the blood talent as well as the other psychic skills had gradually been fading away, and when they did occur, they were weak and almost unnoticeable. My family had the hunt instinct, but no children born in the last fifty years had inherited the talent itself. The family was both relieved and grateful. They’d become very wealthy and liked the social status that went with it. They enjoyed the normalcy and the lack of threat to their lifestyle.” He tapped his chest. “Until me. When I started to display troublesome signs of having certain talents that they regarded in the monster category, I was whisked away to the country house and taken care of by tutors for most of the year. I didn’t see either of my sisters except for a few months in the summer. They were both younger than I was and had been told not to become too close to me, but children often don’t pay attention to adults.” He met her eyes. “And I wanted them to like me. I needed them. So I made it happen.”
“Or maybe it was a case of three children thrown together and nature taking its course.”
His brows rose. “I wasn’t brought up to think in those terms.”
“Maybe if you had been, you wouldn’t have turned out so damn weird.”
His lips turned up at the corners. “And maybe that was why I wanted you and your family in my life. There’s nothing usual about any of you, and yet you accepted me under conditions that would have scared off anyone else.”
“Maria and Lisa,” she prompted.