Page 51 of Blood Freed

“Poppy!” Rowan scolds.

“What? Someone has to say it!” The squirrel’s tail twitches indignantly. “First you with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Bloodthirsty, now Mimi’s got her own fang-boy. It’s becoming a family tradition.”

I ignore her, focusing on my sister. “Did you feel…different after? Like something fundamental changed?”

“Yes.” Rowan’s expression grows serious. “After the bond became permanent, unbreakable, everything changed. Gran says it’s because of our bloodline – something about an ancient prophecy.”

“That’s what she told me, too.” I take another sip of coffee. “She said that now that he’s drunk from me, if Soren dies…”

“You’ll die too,” Rowan finishes softly. “Just like what happened with me and Darick. That’s why he ended up human – we had to break the vampire bond to save both our lives.”

“Oh sure, totally normal relationship stuff,” Poppy mutters. “Just your average dating problems – deciding where to eat dinner, meeting the parents, breaking ancient vampire curses…”

I set my mug down. “There’s more. Soren confirmed that Maxwell’s death was no suicide.”

The kitchen goes silent. Even Poppy stops chattering.

“How did he know?” Darick straightens.

“He didn’t give me much detail, just that it didn’t feel right.” I swallow hard. “It’s Lucien. He’s eliminating anyone who could expose him.”

“Of course he is,” Darick’s voice is grim. “Maxwell knew too much about his operations, about the blood facilities.”

“There’s more to it,” I say. “Something about Maxwell’s bloodline being cursed. Soren says that’s why Lucien had such a hold over him – he was using Maxwell’s fear about the Bloodbane to control him.”

Rowan reaches for Darick’s hand, squeezing it. I remember she told me about his own brush with the blood allergy. The parallels aren’t lost on me.

“The Bloodbane is spreading,” Darick says, his expression grim. “Lucien’s been using it to control vampire elders for years.If they don’t comply, he threatens to expose their condition. Most would rather die than face that shame.”

“But why?” I lean forward. “What’s so terrible about having the blood allergy?”

“Aside from the slow, agonizing death?” Poppy rolls her eyes.

“That’s true,” says Darick, “for those who don’t have access to witch blood or are unable to find a blood match. But even for those who do, it’s seen as a weakness,” he explains. “Any vampire revealed to have the Bloodbane loses everything – their position, their influence, sometimes even their clan membership. Lucien’s been exploiting that fear, building his power base through blackmail.”

“And now he’s cleaning house,” Rowan adds softly. “Getting rid of anyone who could expose his operations.”

“Like Maxwell,” I whisper, thinking of Soren’s pain when he discovered his maker’s body.

“Actually…” Poppy’s voice pipes up from above, surprisingly serious for once. “Maybe he deserved it.”

“What?” Rowan protests.

I glance up at Poppy, who’s flicking her tail back and forth.

“I mean, some vampires just have it coming, don’t they?” She preens her whiskers with deliberate casualness. “Strutting around like they own the night, acting all superior with their fancy clothes and their ‘ooh, look at me, I can turn into a bat let’s have sex’ attitudes.”

Something in her voice catches my attention – a hint of old pain beneath the flippancy. But before I can pursue it, she bounces on her perch.

“That’s not funny, Poppy,” I hear myself saying.

“Okay, I suppose not all of them are complete blood-sucking jerks. Some are pretty cool,” she adds with a nod to Darick. “And your Soren seems…adequate. For a vampire. Even if his bite technique needs work.”

“You’re pushing it, squirrel,” Rowan scolds, but I notice she’s studying her familiar with unusual intensity. Clearly, I’m not the only one who caught that undertone.

“What? I’m just saying some karma’s well-deserved.” Poppy starts grooming her tail with excessive attention. “Besides, you can’t expect a squirrel to be completely unbiased about predatory species. It’s just not natural.”

The forced lightness in her tone makes me wonder what – or who – she’s really talking about. But she’s already launching into another quip about vampires and their fashion choices, her moment of vulnerability buried under an avalanche of sass.

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