Lucien snorted. “Yes, it certainly did. But that’s when I knew—when I saw the necklace around your throat. He came here to die. He must have. That’s the only reason I could think of that he would give it away, to anyone, even to someone for whom he has such an inexplicable fondness. Did you know his sister was wearing it the night she decided her brother was dead? She believed Gavriel to be some kind of demon, a fetch who’d stolen his face. She tried to run away from him and he grabbed for her, but all he caught was the necklace. It broke and he never saw his sister again.”
“That’s sad,” Tana said.
“It was a little bit funny, actually,” said Lucien. “I mean, they were shouting at each other like they were idiot children, and then a man came to defend her honor. I think he was a cabbie, but he had several friends right behind him. Imagine, a vampire giving up in the face of a few dirty men on a street. It was as if Gavriel had entirely forgotten what he was.”
Tana had no idea what to say to that. “And he never tried to find her?” she asked, finally.
Lucien smiled, all teeth. “I found her first, you see. It’s an old story, but you might as well hear it. I thought I could make things right between them, that once she’d turned, Gavriel would be entirely happy. Katya was clever and capable—she’d made it out of Russia all on her own. So, anyway, I brought over one of my footmen. Six foot and fair of face, perfect for a lady. I sent up my card and she agreed to see me. She had one of those older, destitute spinsters who hired themselves out as chaperones. I killed her immediately.”
Tana took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to find some way to accept that he’d cheerfully announced murdering an innocent woman a hundred years ago. Dizzily, she sat down in one of the chairs, deciding that she no longer cared about manners.
Lucien grinned down at her. He appeared to be enjoying himself, as though this was a favorite story that he seldom got to tell.
“Katya was upset, of course, and even more upset when I grabbed her and sank my teeth into her throat. When I let her go, she started more of her babbling about demons, but whatever she thought was going to happen, I’ll wager she never imagined the hunger that would overtake her half a day later. She never guessed how she would take a letter opener to my poor, ruined footman’s throat. And do you know what she did after that? The idiot girl walked right out into the sun as soon as she rose from the dead.”
“She killed herself?” Gavriel had smiled when he’d talked about Katya in Paris. Surely he wouldn’t have happily reminisced about circumstances that led to her death, if he’d known. But if Gavriel didn’t know, why would Lucien tell Tana?
“Gavriel was quite put out by it when he found out, even though I had arranged the whole thing for him—it was going to be a nice surprise, a family reunion.” Lucien shook his head regretfully. “She really was a pistol, his sister. Stubborn like him and just as melodramatic.”
“He’s not…” Tana began, but she let the sentence trail off. He was melodramatic sometimes, and it wasn’t as if Lucien hadn’t known him for a very long while, certainly long enough to make statements like that.
“Ah,” said Lucien. “How sweet. I have been terribly curious—how did you manage to catch his eye? Ladies tried, but he was so often distracted, always busy putting down outbreaks and sharpening his knives. All that hunting made him a little jittery, I think. Rather off-putting for all but the most dauntless ladies. Are you dauntless, my dear?”
Tana did not know what to say to that. “I have no idea.”
It’s all some wicked game to him, she realized. Getting under her skin. Passing on a story to her that might or might not be true, but would rattle her and keep her off balance. Lucien liked to be the endless drip of water wearing on someone’s soul. Lucien liked to watch people snap.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he said, throwing himself into the chair opposite Tana. “What matters is that you managed to make him care about you. And now you’re going to get everything you ever dreamed of—becoming a vampire, becoming famous. Not bad. For an opportunistic little slut, you sure landed in clover.”
Tana flinched the casual way the insult rolled off his tongue.
“Oh, no. I congratulate you. Truly. If I had a drink in my hand, I would toast my admiration.”
“Good thing I don’t have one,” said Tana. “Because I’d throw it in your face.”
He tossed back his head and laughed. “I just love mortals.”
“I bet,” she told him.
He acknowledged her words with a nod. “It’s such a relief not to have to hide anymore. Before the infection spread, we were already known by our mistakes. Vampyr in the Netherlands, upir in the Ukraine, vrykolaka in the Balkan region, penangglan on the Malay Peninsula. If we’d been better at hiding, there would have been no words for us, but there is a word for vampire in every corner of the world.”