Page 20 of Silent Stalker
“Most of us don’t, even though it is a daily part of our lives. There’s nothing wrong with asking your questions.”
“I’m not sure which one to ask first.”
“Now, that is a problem I cannot help you with, but I am relieved the problem is less about your willingness to ask and more about you trying to figure out how best to ask your questions. As for the issue of the murdered women, we will review what we know of Luca’s kidnapping and evaluate if there is any chance of overlap. Frankly spoken, I suspect there is some relation. The wise vampires know the art of deflection and use it to their advantage.”
“Except the vampire who made me isn’t all that smart, is he?”
“Oh, he is brilliance in the flesh. He made you. He had more help than he would like, I suspect, but that he was able to make you at all is a testament to his intellect. He is smart enough to be a force worth bothering with. He is also stupid enough to be a force worth worrying about. He was smart enough to make you, but he was foolish enough to let you slip from his grasp. It’s probable he is trying to repeat what he did with you.”
“With Luca and those other vampires?”
“It’s possible. And being attacked in such a way is traumatic enough on a vampire they might not remember, much like you don’t remember being made. Or, as a more worrying possibility, they were forced to forget.”
“Do you think someone wiped my memory on purpose?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“But what about Clarke?”
“It would take a far older vampire or a terrifyingly powerful preternatural to wipe my maker’s memory. And I am certain he did not tell you everything there is to know about what happened. I hold trust he would inform me if you had been sexually assaulted, as he knows I have claimed you as my partner like you have claimed me to be your partner. He would not want me to traumatize you when we do confirm we are properly blood bound. He has not told me of any such things. But, there may have been others killed, for example.”
My throat tightened at the thought of what might have happened, and I swallowed before stating, “You mean I may have attacked mortals and killed them during my making.”
“That is something my maker would hide from both of us. He would hide it from me, for I would work harder to paint the land with your maker’s blood, thus earning your ire because you wish to paint the land with your maker’s blood. He would hide it from you, for you would be overcome with guilt and wallow in pity.”
I blinked, my brows furrowing. “I would?”
“In his mind, yes. You are a woman, and to him, you are a creature of creation, gentle unless on the prowl for your partner.”
A laugh built in my chest, and while I tried to stop it, it eventually burst free. “Am I gentle before or after beheading miscreants and drinking them dry because I was thirsty and didn’t understand lactose is bad for vampires?”
“Before and after, but during? You are a force to be stepped around with care. I would not want to be a miscreant you decided needed to be dispatched.”
I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the Civic. “Why would I waste my dessert? Also, you’re on notice. You are not permitted to misbehave in any fashion that would label you as a miscreant I need to dispatch.”
“I will do my best to maintain my pristine reputation. I have no desire to be staked or otherwise escorted to my final rest at this point in time.” He followed my lead, got out of the car, and locked it. “As we are down here anyway, look at the vehicles here. Do any of them catch your eye? I have decided you will learn to drive in your first car, and we’ll begin our search in the eclectic collection of vehicles already within the garage. You may not take the specific car, but I will drive you to the dealership for you to pick one of your own. I will evict Emilio’s vehicle from its spot so you might have it.” Emerick pointed at the empty spot I stood in. “You will park your car there, next to mine. Emilio will survive his eviction to a new spot.”
“Primo parking spot?” I asked.
“These spots have the best security compared to convenience. We usually rotate who gets this one, but once you have selected a vehicle, you’ll be parked here, as it’s always monitored.” Emerick pointed at a camera nearby. “That is only one of the cameras.”
I waved at whomever watched us. “Does it do sound, too?”
“Of course.”
After a moment of consideration, I nodded and prowled around the lot, admiring the collection of vehicles. From an old, somewhat rusted Volkswagen Beetle to Emerick’s Bugatti, which had a spot in the back of the garage where nobody could get to it without making it through the entire lot first, there was a little bit of everything. I returned to the section where most of the classics lived, giggling at the mix of muscle cars, Cadillacs, and the lonely and sad Beetle. I pointed to the vehicle. “Who owns this poor thing?”
Emerick coughed.
My eyes widened, and I eyed the Beetle before eyeing my husband. “Is this yours?”
“Possibly.”
I turned to the nearest security camera and shouted, “Somebody needs to bring me a whip, some cuffs, and other disciplinary tools to deal with this severe case of car abuse!”
“Am I being disciplined or rewarded?” Emerick asked in an exasperated tone. “I might be old, but even I am aware of what women tend to do when given a whip and cuffs.”
Oh. Right. I shrugged. “When do we check if we’re blood bound again?”
