“No, thanks. I’m good.” What a weird conversation. I was going to be replaying this one in my head for weeks. “And just what is soon to come? You talk like you know.”
Hurst clasped his hands together and settled back in his chair. He wore the scent of old books like a second skin. It tickled my nose, and I stifled a sneeze.
“There is much speculation regarding the demon whose mark you bear. The underworld feels he will soon make a move toward greater power. He is feared by many and subject to very few.” He paused, and this time he exhibited an air of reservation. “You and Arys must be on guard. He will do all he can to corrupt you both.”
I might have been new to this world compared to an old vampire like Hurst, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Warning me about Shya was like telling me the sky was blue. Of course, I appreciated the sentiment.
“He already is,” I sighed. “But thank you. I appreciate the warning.”
“I won’t keep you much longer. I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your twin flame. It pleases me greatly to hear how well you two have managed your union. It’s an honor to my bloodline.”
Despite my polite refusal, Hurst’s human assistant brought me another coffee and a plate of cookies. Not quite what I would have expected as the guest of a vampire, but I’d happily take it.
As I nibbled an oatmeal cookie, my stomach growled. Arys better have ordered that steak. I eyed Hurst with open curiosity. Making the most of our remaining time was essential.
“What is it about our bloodline that makes us so strong? Did it start with you?” I asked. Arys had never been able to answer that question.
“No, it did not.” Hurst stared off into the shadows. Something wistful passed across his face. “As you know, many vampires possess metaphysical attributes of varying degrees. Others possess none at all. Tales from the old world claim the origins of the vampire are linked to a deal made with the devil. Of course, there is no way of knowing for sure.”
I stared at him in wonder, my cookie forgotten in my hand. I gestured for him to continue.
“One folk story states that the first vampires were born of demon blood. A king with three daughters made a deal with the devil to preserve his children always by making them immortal. Or as immortal as a human can be. Another story agrees that the first vampires were created from demon blood but created to be an affront to God. More than human but less than demon, and all dark. A mockery of humankind created to prey on humankind. In both, the first generation of vampires each possessed different demon traits. Traits that have been passed on throughout the years as new vampires are made. Some theorize that the strengths of those traits vary based on the strengths of the individual, and I’m inclined to agree with that for the most part.”
I felt like a kid on Halloween listening to ghost stories. A strange chill crept through me as I processed his accounts. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard tales of vampires being linked to demons. That’s where the darkness came from. My body shook as the chill spread, freezing my very bones. I faced every night with a piece of that darkness living inside me. How would I ever be the same when it completely consumed me?
“Our bloodline is currently one of the most powerful in the western world,” Hurst continued when I failed to speak. “I’m sure you’ve seen evidence of that yourself.”
“I have,” I said softly.
“Which is why you must take care when turning a human. Like your wolf, some people cannot adjust to the power we command.” Hurst pushed the plate of cookies closer to me. He met my eyes evenly when he added, “Please give Arys a message for me. Tell him that he must not turn the young male witch.”
The blood drained from my face. My gaze fell to the dragon on my forearm. It was a perfect match to the one on Arys’s back. The one he had received after making a deal with Shya, a promise to turn Gabriel, a human skilled in the dark arts. At this rate, we were never going to get these damn demon marks removed. We would never be able or willing to give Shya what he expected of us. That problem would have to wait until I was back home after a weeklong snooze in my own bed.
“I’ll tell him,” I promised. “Thank you, again, for sharing with me. I’m not entirely sure what to do with it all, but I’ll figure it out.”
“That you will.” Hurst rose and called forward his human assistant. “Take Alexa back to her kin, please.”
I stood up, my legs wobbly like jelly. The symbol on the old book pulsed, and again I resisted the urge to touch it. It scared me even as it enticed.
Hurst drew me into a surprising hug. His embrace was gentle, comforting. He stroked a hand through my hair and patted my back. “Stay strong, young Hound.” He pulled back and gazed down at me. I fell into his hazel eyes, drawn into the abyss of power. He spoke slowly, carefully. “You will not remember this location. You will recall only this room and our discussion. Go now and take care.”
The next thing I knew, I was standing outside The Wicked Kiss alone and disoriented.