Page 52 of Shadows of Eternity

“I wonder what he wants,” Leia remarked, and then bit down on her lower lip.

“What do you think?” Rohan muttered, as he unlocked the door.

Frumusanu didn’t waste any time. As soon as the door opened, he said, “I need to talk to you.”

Rohan stepped out onto the small porch and pulled the door closed behind him. “Save your breath. It wasn’t me.”

Trent snorted. “Why the hell should I believe you?”

“Because I said it. I’m not stupid enough to leave a fresh kill in the town where I live.”

That took Frumusanu aback. Looking somewhat embarrassed, he shoved his hands into his pants’ pockets. “I guess you’d have to be a damn fool to do so. Any idea who the bloodsucker might be?”

Rohan shook his head. “Until tonight, I thought I was the only one in town. I haven’t sensed any others.” Even as he spoke the words, he caught the faint scent of vampire on the wind. He swore under his breath.

It was a scent he’d never forgotten.

The scent of the vampire who had turned him over three hundred years ago.

Rohan stood on the porch for several minutes after Frumusanu took his leave and then, unable to resist, he descended the steps. Lifting his head, he turned in a slow circle, trying to locate the scent again. Had he been mistaken? More than likely, he decided. After all, it had been centuries. What were the chances he and his sire would wind up in the same town at the same time? He snorted softly. What were the chances they would have met the first time, he thought darkly. Fate? Bad luck? Or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

He walked to the sidewalk but if the scent had ever been there, it was gone.

And yet, in the back of his mind, he knew the SOB who’d turned him was out there, waiting.

“Is everything all right?” Leia asked, when he returned to the living room.

Rohan shrugged. “Frumusanu naturally assumed that I was the killer,” he said, a note of bitterness in his voice. “But then, why wouldn’t he?” Hell, the thought had crossed Leia’s mind, too. Not that he could blame her, but it cut, just the same.

“He believed you, didn’t he? When you told him it wasn’t you?”

“I guess so.” He stood in front of her, hands fisted on his hips. “Do you?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, a guilty flush staining her cheeks.

“Oh, hell,” he muttered.

Leia frowned. The tone of his voice told her something else was bothering him.

Rohan dropped down onto the sofa beside her, one brow raised. What the hell? Wasshereadinghismind now? How did she know he was on edge?

She tilted her head to the side, an unspoken question in her eyes.

He huffed a sigh. “When I was outside talking to Frumusanu, I caught the scent of the vampire who made me.” Leia stared at him, eyes wide with … what? He wasn’t sure if it was disbelief or fear. Hell, maybe it was both.

“How could he find you after so long?” she asked tremulously.

“There’s a strong blood tie between sire and fledgling. He’ll always be able to find me, if he’s looking. But … ” Rohan clenched his hands into tight fists. “I don’t think he’s looking for me. I think it’s just an unfortunate coincidence that he’s here.”

Later that night, after Leia had fallen asleep, Rohan willed himself to the place where the body had been found. The air still smelled of blood and fear and death.

And his sire’s never-to-be-forgotten scent.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The vampire strolled the dark city streets. He had not been to this part of the world in over three hundred years, give or take a decade. Much had changed, but then, the world was always changing. Only he and his kind remained the same. These days, it took a lot to surprise him, but he had been truly astonished tonight. Earlier, while prowling the city, he had detected the near-forgotten scent of one he had turned centuries ago. He plucked the warrior’s name from the deep recesses of his mind—Shadow Dancer, of the Lakota people.

Josiah remembered few of those he’d turned, but this one, ah, this one he had never forgotten. Perhaps because of the man’s Indian blood. He had been the first Indian Josiah had ever turned. Perhaps it was because of the warrior’s startled expression when he plunged his knife deep into Josiah’s belly, and Josiah had laughed in his face because it had no lasting effect on him. Although Josiah had laughed, he hadn’t been amused. The knife thrust had hurt like hell. In his anger, he had buried his fangs in the Lakota’s throat. And instantly regretted it. The man had shown courage when he tried to avenge his friend’s death, and courage was one of the few things Josiah still admired. Deciding the warrior shouldn’t have to forfeit his own life for his bravado, Josiah had turned Shadow Dancer into a vampire, instead of draining him dry as he had intended. Turned him and left him without a backward glance.

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