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I didn’t want to consider that D’vid had indeed passed.

That was too horrific a thought.

Nobody found anything, although we searched all night and all the next one. During the entire day, Luce searched with the Har’chen but never spotted any trace of D’vid. D’vid must have died from his wounds, and I refused to accept this at first. But in my heart, I knew he was gone.

We mourned D’vid for months, and I never fully recovered from his loss.

Discovering that Claudias had been alive all along and hunting for D’vid with murderous intent was a shocking revelation. At least we had an answer as why D’vid had been so hated, but it served no purpose now. Poor D’vid had passed knowing the truth, that he wasn’t wanted, and had never been.

The Vam’pirs had loved him, but the feeling of not belonging to his own family had haunted D’vid. D’vid had finally died with answers about how they so easily threw him out of their close-knit group. He’d passed knowing that he had failed all their expectations, and that Claudias had really and truly hated him.Not a pleasant way to die, is it?

The Vam’pirs suffered a loss, causing repercussions that lasted for years. Vam’pirs were not invincible like we believed. Even though Claudias had taken some type of strength serum, it was still possible to kill a Vam’pir. Until then, we believed our worries were limited to fire and the sun, but that wasn’t true.

Although it did puzzle me. D’vid’s wounds had been serious, the stabbing in the heart, for example, but how could that have killed him? The scenario haunted me for years.

The next disaster that happened was a disease, which flew around Har’ches, killing without mercy. Today, you have a name for it, rabies; we just called it a killer. How rabies came about, we weren’t sure, because we were scrupulously clean and tidy. The origins were traced back to an injured animal that was duly shot, but the damage had been done.

This type of rabies had never been witnessed previously.

Medics immediately used antibiotics, which were effective temporarily before the disease mutated. An animal bite causes today’s rabies. Not this version. The disease mutated enough so that it became airborne.

Adult and child alike were struck down and died. Death is an indiscriminate killer, and every family was affected by at least one. With Vam’pirs, it was Cleo. Cleo was one of the first, and I watched her during the night with Emil, refusing to leave her bed.

Rabies didn’t affect Vam’pirs, so we were quite safe. Luce stayed with Cleo during the day with Mihal. Cleo suffered for a week before she finally succumbed to death. It was horrible watching someone you loved drift away, and Har’chen and Vam’pirs were helpless in death’s embrace. Cleo wasted away with a high fever and foaming at the mouth.

Mihal looked terrible as he refused to leave her side and then he got it, too. Inka and I thought that we were going to lose him. Once again, I sat at a bedside praying and hoping for the best and again, the worst happened. Mihal looked like death warmed up, and we resigned ourselves. Inka begged me to help him, but I knew not what to do.

“Please, Jaq, save him,” Inka pleaded over and over again.

I glanced at her, heartbroken. This was something that I hadn’t considered. That Inka and I would have to watch our child die.

It was hard enough dealing with my father’s, Maryn’s, and recently D’vid’s deaths. Somehow, I’d blocked the connotations of Maryn’s death from my mind. Watching Mihal was terrifying, yet we were helpless. The Medics were working as hard as possible to discover a cure. If medical personnel couldn’t find one, then how could I?

“Inka, I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching for her.

“No, you are not!” Inka screamed. “You never wanted Mihal, and you’re jealous of him! I’ve seen the way you look at him! Mihal’s the man you never will be, and you hate him for it.”

I reeled back, shocked as Inka flew at me, fingers curved to claw my face. Stunned, I let Inka attack without thinking of defending myself. Inka slapped me hard and scratched my face deep enough to draw blood. I finally caught hold of Inka’s wrists and held her tightly as Inka screamed and railed at me to let go.

After a while, Inka stopped and slumped in my arms.

“Jaq, Mihal is my baby. How can we let him die? Mihal’s all I have apart from you, and I can’t lose him.”

Saddened, I stroked Inka’s hair as she sobbed heartbrokenly.

Mihal had stopped fighting the illness and laid there in his lucid moments, murmuring Cleo’s name over and over again. I knew just how Mihal felt, for had I not watched Inka die? The difference being Inka rose from the dead, and Cleo wouldn’t.

“Sweetness, I can’t do anything,” I soothed, stroking Inka’s back as she hiccupped.

“Make him like us!” Inka whispered.

I froze.

Surely, that was grief-talking and not sanity.

But Inka continued, “Jaq, you can do it. Mihal will heal and never leave me. We can help him get over Cleo. Mihal must live,Jaq, for I cannot live without him.” Steadily, Inka’s voice grew in strength as her hope rose.

Cruelly, I dashed it.