Page 47 of Taming His Vampire Mate

I caught myself, but it wasn’t hard to guess where I’d been going.

Recovering, I added, “The process doesn’t take days. It’s hours, normally. But it doesn’t happen on accident very often.”

“Someone who didn’t know what they were doing would just suck people dry, then.”

“They’d need to give their victims blood first, before killing them. It’s not something a crazed newborn would know to do.”

“But there are no bodies in town. Signs of violence, but no bodies. We haven’t seen a single one.”

“Correct.”

His expression darkened as he caught up with me. “Someone who knew better did this…” He gestured toward the silent main drag. “This wasn’t an accident. Someone taught the newborns how to turn others.”

“More likely, they forced them. Ancient vampires can hypnotize the young.”

“Can you?”

“No. And I don’t appreciate the implication that I’m ancient. Eight centuries is practically spritely, by vampire standards.”

He snorted. “And what would you call me, then?”

“Would you really like the answer to that? Because I have plenty of things I could call you.”

His lips twitched, like I’d amused him—exactly the opposite of my intent. “Why turn a whole town, if not by accident?”

I thought of Godric.

And then I froze.

I’d been so sure Godric was behind this. My dream hadn’t been wrong yet. But why would he come here, hundreds of miles from Seattle, and turn an entire town into vampires? Rookwood was reasonably close to me, but not close enough that he could be sure I would notice right away. There were better options, without crossing state lines out of Washington.

The only obvious answer was an army. But the Godric I knew wasn’t the army-building type. That had been more Magnus’s style—he’d had aspirations along those lines once. Godric was practical. Efficient. Brutal.

In fact, he was often the one who dispatched Magnus’s feral creations before they could draw too much attention. And in that task, he was merciless.

After all, what would he possibly do with an army of vampires?

Which meant this might be bait. A way to lure me in. Perhaps his psychic gifts had shown him that if he did this—turned an entire town into bloodthirsty murderers—then I would come. And what did the lives of a thousand strangers matter to him, if it meant tying off a loose end? Maybe this was the only way he’d foreseen to get me alone.

With one easily dealt-with wolfy exception, of course.

The thought laced unease through me.

It was growing dark. Which meant Jeremy’s life was in danger. Annoyingly, it mattered to me that he didn’t die pointlessly at the hands of a thousand ravenous vampires.

“Perhaps whoever did this simply got bored.” I shrugged, aiming for unaffected. “Or maybe they know enough to create vampires, but not enough to know what happens when you try something like this.”

“What happens?”

I flashed him a smile that felt dangerous on my lips. “What do you think? When young vampires draw too much attention, older ones destroy them and clean up after, so humans don’t catch on. It’s easier to drink your fill when your prey doesn’t believe in you.”

“Stop it.” He shook his head. “I know what you’re doing. Knock it off. It’s not going to work.”

“Oh, do you think you know what I’m doing? Do you really?”

Perhaps if I scared him enough, he’d leave. And if he left, he might live to see sunrise.

I advanced, letting my fangs drop. “What if I’ve been lulling you into a false sense of security this whole time?”