Page 25 of Silent Stalker
“You are exceptionally clever,” he complimented. “Yes, that is precisely what I mean. While you were turning in the ground, your body would have healed, the magic bonding to you and preparing you for your new life. And should you be critically injured to the point of death, a clever vampire can provide blood and return you to the ground and wait in the hopes you rise again. That is not something any brood master wishes to do. Emerick has done it with great success several times. He does not leave his child’s grave in those cases until there is a certainty of life or death.”
“But how does he know?”
“He knows. It is a part of being a brood master, as you’ll learn soon enough. But in truth, it only takes a night or two to learn if the child will rise again. Once his child is ready to rise, Emerick helps and oversees the process, and when his child has risen, he offers comfort. It is not something any brood master wishes for anyone to experience alone. It is part of what infuriated him so much upon learning your circumstances. Most vampires that come out of the ground after healing are rather distraught and in need of consolation. Master Clarke’s first action upon rising from his healing rest had been to return to his brood, where he was the one comforted. Then news began to spread of it, as his disappearance hadn’t gone unnoticed. But he had not spoken about you or your fate until Emerick claimed you.”
I gave the blood a swirl in its bottle before draining the rest down and retrieving another bottle. “Does this imply the vampire is somewhat versed with how to turn people?”
“I’m not sure what I think anymore,” Kennwick admitted, heading to the refrigerator and pulling out several plastic containers and placing them on the counter. “Initially, I suspected your maker, but things aren’t adding up.”
“What do you mean?”
“Master Clarke was quite descriptive about the condition of your body by the time you were ready for your first feeding. There was a clear style to the damage. That style was not present on any of tonight’s bodies. While someone might be mimicking the way you were turned, there are many differences. It’s also a matter of scale. If anything, I suspect there are multiple groups at play. Right now, I feel only one of the recent incidents may be a failed attempt to repeat your making.”
I winced at the thought of the three vampires I’d pulled off the teens. “You mean the three vampires we rescued yesterday.”
“Yes. I went over to the safehouse yesterday after you left to begin questioning them. They were beaten in a way reminiscent of what Master Clarke had reported regarding your treatment. They were likely victims of your maker.” Kennwick glanced in the direction of the sitting room where Emerick worked. “That’s another reason I am in here telling you versus him.”
“He must have gone through the roof.”
“That’s one way to put it. He has already put out word that all members of the brood, the mortal women included, are to travel together and be in groups no smaller than five, with at least three of the numbers being vampires. He has also limited the number of the brood that can be in one place at a time, in case it’s an attempt to create a trap to wipe out the entirety of the brood at one time. As Emerick has opted to hunt real estate as his primary prey, some of his quieter retreats are now bustling as the wiser in the brood are taking advantage of the chance to go vacation elsewhere. One such property is not far from his maker’s European abode. We have twenty of our number heading there at current. They left at sunset.”
“You think this is going to be a big issue, then.”
“I think we need to handle the situation with significant care. Would you prefer a mocha, a hot chocolate, or a coffee?”
“Hot chocolate for one hand, coffee for the other,” I replied, downing the second bottle of Wagyu like it might try to make an escape. To my dismay, my sense of thirst remained. “What the hell was Emerick up to last night after he sent me to nappy land?” I twisted to glare in the direction of the sitting room. “You are a thief of blood and normal morning breakfast routines, Mr. Emerick Lowrance!”
My husband laughed but didn’t make an appearance.
“Yes, he did consume a substantial amount of blood last night, another reason I am attending to you while he is handling matters in there.” Kennwick pulled down two mugs from the cupboard and went about starting the kettle and operating Emerick’s fancy coffee maker. Once finished, he resumed making me a breakfast of hot turkey sandwiches. “His decisions will influence what the rest of the New York broods will do, and due to our amicable relationship, I have been volunteered to relay information. I have also been tasked with confirming your status as successfully blood bound to your husband.” Kennwick raised a brow. “Which leads me to ask why he was so enthusiastic about further cementing his bond with you?”
“He wasn’t a dark enough shade of green for my taste,” I answered, rinsing out both bottles and setting them in the recycle bin after reclaiming their purple ribbons, which I put in the letter box in the hallway leading towards the reception for someone else to deal with. “Mostly, I think he wanted me to take a nap after yesterday’s rather exciting start. I broke my nose, but it is not being counted against me.”
“Well, your nose will not hurt if you’re deeply asleep, this is true. He had not told me how you broke your nose, although he informed me you had broken it during the excitement.”
“Luca’s hand and my nose made a close acquaintance, and my nose lost. I am expecting remedial training, as I can’t handle three at once as well as Emerick would like.”
Kennwick snickered. “If you need more blood, have it. We thirst when our body is telling us it has need.”
While I would have preferred to dodge consuming even more blood, I retrieved a third bottle of Wagyu with a purple ribbon. “The purple ribbons are new.”
“Emerick asked for the Wagyu to be infused with additional magic to better fit your nutritional needs, especially after having lost so much between your nose and his sampling last night.”
I eyed the bottle with interest. “I’ve gotten used to the Wagyu. I wonder if I’ll be able to do the other bloods one day. I’m afraid to ask how expensive it is.”
“It’s cheaper than a live donor, but not by much. A lot of magic is used to preserve the blood in a drinkable state for us, and that’s expensive. Those bottles probably cost eight hundred each. It depends on where he’s sourcing his Wagyu. Emerick? Where are you getting your Wagyu from?”
Emerick strolled into the kitchen and leaned against the counter beside me. “That batch is from Kobe, but I typically use a mix of Japanese and American stock. I’m discussing the situation with a producer in Japan to see if I can get the majority of the blood from the Kobe cattle. It’s taking a bit of work, but so far, it’s not been bad. It helps you’re reliant on it, Pepper. As long as you’re the one drinking the blood, I get it at a good rate, as you can’t drink other types right now. It’s considered a medical need. The Kobe blood gets the purple ribbon, and they’re keeping me stocked assuming you need five bottles a day on average. They know you’re hunting miscreants, and they appreciate that.”
“What counts as a good rate?”
“Let me start with the regular blood for general brood consumption, so you have a better understanding of the scale. I’m buying for the brood at a thousand dollars a bottle for veal’s blood and eight hundred dollars a bottle for cow blood. I get steer blood for five hundred a bottle and bull blood for nine hundred.”
“Wait. The gender and age of the cow makes a difference?” I asked, hesitating to take a sip with the understanding I bled the brood dry keeping my thirst in check.
Kennwick patted my shoulder. “It’s rare blood, Pepper. Don’t fret about the cost. What are you paying for hers, Emerick?”
“Fifty.”
