Page 20 of Hunt the Dusk
He was so desperate to save his brother that he was spinning Ezekiel’s game of control-the-watcher into something else. “I don’t think that?—”
“I know you don’t. But it doesn’t matter. Just…keep being you.”
Good because I didn’t know how to be anyone else.
We rode in silence for several minutes, and my mind wandered, going over the events of the past few days, over what they’d told me and what I understood about the bigger picture. “How much does Ezekiel remember of his life before?”
“Not much,” Hemlock said. “He doesn’t recall that he had brothers, but he knows he had a wife once. That he spawned children and other vampires. There are artifacts from his life, ones that contained information about Ordell and me, but we’ve removed them for Ezekiel’s sanity.”
“What about Laudon? How come he remembers him?”
“Laudon was his friend before he was taken by Loviator. He was the only person Ezekiel turnedbeforehe was taken. Laudon was sick, and we were at a loss of how to save him. I’m notsure how, maybe instinct, but Ezekiel figured out that maybe his gift could be passed on through an exchange of blood. Up until then, the only other creatures like Ezekiel were his biological children. After we got him back, after the curse was activated, Ezekiel went on a rampage of death, killing and turning indiscriminately. Ordell believes that it was his bid at not being alone.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think he was angry. Afraid. Confused. Anyway, Laudon was the only one who could reach him. They reconnected. We believe that the fact Ezekiel turned himbeforehis curse activated created a unique bond between them somehow. So Laudon was the only one who could get through to him and eventually stopped his bloody reign. But by then, he’d created a whole new race.”
“That’s where the houses came from?”
“Yes. Shadows is Laudon’s bloodline; House of Spirit come from the Tepes bloodline. Lissa, my niece, married and continued that bloodline.”
“So Christian is related to you guys by blood? Or is he a turned vamp?”
“He’s a born vampire. One of a handful. Procreation is difficult for vampires. Ezekiel’s bloodline, the born vampires, can procreate with humans and produce more born vampires, but turned vampires can only procreate with other turned vampires and even that is a struggle.” He looked away. “That’s why they have the School of Creation.”
“And what is that?”
“A school where children are prepared to be turned.”
“What the fuck?”
His top lip lifted slightly. “The children are educated to the highest standards and taught the etiquette required of the housethat has claimed them, and on their twenty-first birthday they’re turned.”
“Do they get a choice?”
“I doubt it. These are orphans, or the children of prized veins. They belong to the vampire houses. There are other children at the school. The children of high-ranked humans, but it’s mostly potential vampires.”
I felt sick. “This is wrong, surely you can see that.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. This is Dracul territory, and there are rules and a system. The council has ruled that they have a right to survive and thrive, and procreation is a part of that, be it biological or by adoption.”
“Turning someone isnotadoption.”
“It is in this world.”
Then this world sucked worse than I could ever have imagined. “What about the House of Blessed?”
His expression clouded. “That is not a pretty tale.” The carriage clattered to a halt. “Let’s save it for another day.”
I had to save Ezekiel to save us all from Loviator, that much was a given. But maybe if I learned more about the man he’d been, I could make myself believe that he wasworthsaving.
Chapter 8
It was cozy in the kitchen, warm from where the stove and oven had been on, and the smells were divine. It was the perfect place to get a little space from the Tepes men without having to be alone in my bedroom.
Ingrid offered me sweet scones with cream and jam to make up for my missing dessert on my date, but I wasn’t feeling it. I settled for a cup of tea while she bustled about cleaning the countertops and stacking plates. She faded in and out, humming a lilting melody that tugged at something deep within me.
I swallowed my mouthful. “What’s that you’re singing?”
