“Dani Makar,” she said.
“Nice to meet you, Dani Makar,” Jude said. The two women echoed him. Luc, on the other hand, seemed to have sunk into a dark mood. He made no acknowledgment at all.
“Luc was right,” Chloe said. “Much as I hate to admit it.” She shot daggers his way, but Luc appeared oblivious. “You’re safer going home at dawn. If vampires are going to fight, mere mortals don’t want to be in the way.”
“But why should they fight?” Dani asked. Something was askew here and she wanted to understand it. Having been attacked once, she needed to know enough to protect herself. “You’re all the same.”
At that, Jude laughed. A genuine laugh. “That’s about as true of us as it is of mortals. Some of us don’t believe in harming humans. Others of us would rather not control our impulses.”
Chloe spoke again. “About seven years ago, Jude drove a group of vampires out of town because they, um …” She hesitated.
“Overindulged?” Jude suggested with heavy sarcasm.
“I guess you could call it that. And from what Luc tells us, they’ve come back for vengeance. They may even want to start a war between Jude’s kind of vampire and the ones who just take whatever they want.”
“But why should you care what you do to humans?”
At that moment Luc rejoined the conversation. “It’s simple. Life is ever so much easier for us if no one believes we exist. And the only way to ensure that is never to take what we want unless it is offered freely.”
This was an entirely new view of vampires, and Dani was reluctant to swallow it whole. “So you wouldn’t have attacked me the way they did?”
“Not I,” said Jude, firmly.
“Nor I,” said Luc, his black eyes burning. “Not unless you wanted it.”
“Why would anyone want that?”
“You’d be surprised what some people want,” Luc said flatly. Then he stood so quickly Dani hardly saw him move.
“Jude, I must dine.”
At once Jude straightened and led him toward the door on the wall near the couch. He punched in a code quickly on a keypad, then swiped a card. Only then did he push the door open. The two vampires disappeared inside, leaving the three women alone.
“Dine?” Dani repeated.
No one answered her. Not a soul.
Fear shuddered through her again. Her voice smaller than she would have liked, she finally said, “I’ll take those clothes.”
She needed to get away. Now.
Chapter 2
Jude pulled a bag of blood out of the refrigerator in his office and passed it to Luc. He also put out a glass in case Luc didn’t want to drink from the bag.
Luc looked at the glass, remembering the times he had drunk blood from fine crystal goblets. Times spent with Natasha.
“What’s the story?” Jude asked.
“I told you.”
“No, I meant with you. Vengeance didn’t help you?”
“It rid me of the anger.”
“But not the rest of it.” Jude settled on a chair behind his desk, facing Luc across it. Luc finally seated himself and bit the bag open. He hesitated, then decided not to use a glass, not to remind himself of Natasha through such a simple thing. He drained the bag flat in seconds, then passed it back to Jude, who tossed it into a biohazard container.
They faced each other across the desk, Jude clearly waiting, Luc reluctant to speak. Yet he couldn’t blame Jude for his curiosity. Few enough vampires emerged on the other side of claiming, and he must certainly have been curious about it.
“The world is still bleak,” he said finally. “I may ask you for mercy.”
Jude lifted one brow. “I hope you don’t.” “It would be your obligation.” It was one obligation all vampires respected: if one of their kind could take this life no longer, a request for mercy—death—was always honored.
“Don’t ask it of me,” Jude said. “I need you.”
“For this fight?” Luc sounded almost scornful. “I don’t care anymore, Jude. I gave you the warning because I felt I owed it to you. If vampires want to destroy each other, why should I care?”
“You used to care. And maybe your problem right now is that you’re not allowing yourself to care about anything. You’re wallowing, Luc.”
The rage that flashed through Luc just then almost made him leap across the desk and attack Jude. He gripped the arms of his chair until his fingers buried themselves in the leather and then the padding beneath. “How would you know what I am going through?” The words emerged from between his clenched teeth.
“You’re right, I don’t know,” Jude replied calmly. “But I know what you used to be. What I see before me now is a man who won’t let go.”
“I can’t let go.”
“Perhaps not.” Jude sighed. “If you want to die, at least die doing something important. Don’t make it pointless by asking me to break your neck.”
The tension between them nearly made the air sizzle. But then Luc released his anger, acknowledging that it was misdirected. Jude wasn’t his problem. An interrupted claiming was his problem. Weariness was his problem.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.” Jude leaned forward and drummed his fingers on the desktop. “I should probably just take Terri and run. If there’s going to be a bloodbath, she’s my first concern.”
“It would be the wise thing, but I’ve noted you often avoid the easiest course.”
Jude flashed a brief smile. “It looks that way.”
Luc shook his head. “Oh, you always have a reason for what you do, mon ami. Battling demons, fighting your own kind. Most would call that insane.”
“I call it necessary.”
“Which is exactly why you won’t flee.” Luc released his grip on the chair arms and crossed his legs. “And you have a problem now in your office.”
“When do I not?”
One corner of Luc’s mouth twitched upward. “True. But this one is intriguing. She can’t be human.”
“Not fully, in any event. That much is clear.”
“We—or you, actually—must now concern ourselves with whether she might be an additional threat. She smells human, however, or I would not have brought her here.”
“I agree about her aroma. She certainly doesn’t smell like anything else I’ve ever met.” He drummed his fingers again briefly. “Well, she’s certainly not in league with the rogues. I doubt even someone who heals as swiftly as she does would have volunteered to be treated like that.”
“I agree. So now let us go learn what we can.”
The blood he had drunk had energized him, cold and nearly lifeless as it was. Things didn’t look quite as bleak as they had when he’d arrived here hungry. But they were still bleak.
Natasha’s death had left a gaping hole in his heart, his mind, his life, and he was sure he would never be able to fill it.
But for now, he decided, perhaps Jude was right. If he was going to choose death, he might as well die fighting. The idea better suited his nature. Maybe that was why he had hesitated to take the final step