Page 47 of Silent Stalker
Ford nodded. “My current favorite theory is a strong illusion of some sort. That would allow him to do a lot, including mask the fact he was feeding his blood to his wife and daughter.”
“But he hated me being his heir.”
“Did he?” Ford challenged. “Did he actually hate having you as his heir? Or was his protest not that you were female, but that females are much harder to turn? Vampires build immortal empires, Pepper. Emerick may appear to be the ideal vampire in your eyes, but he is as ruthless as any other.”
Emerick nodded. “I really am. It just happens my immortal empire is dedicated to safeguarding and enriching my brood.”
I considered Ford, narrowing my eyes. “Then why is he not protesting my marriage to Emerick?”
With a wicked smile, Emerick got up and checked on his roasting chicken. “Your father’s immortal empire would, should he perish, become your immortal empire. As I am ancient by the standards of most, he understands you, being positioned with me, would secure his legacy. That is a drug with few equals to an ambitious vampire. It fits the scenario well. It also explains why he would not be overly concerned with his wife’s disappearance. If she turns, he can attempt to make a claim on her—or not, as he sees fit. Your mother has provided him with the one thing he needed: an heir. That you successfully turned means he doesn’t need a son. He got something better, this generation’s first successfully turned daughter. The mortal brides of vampires are not sacred. It is the immortal bride of a vampire that matters and has value. If he is an older vampire, he would assume her to be a lost cause, unless he turned her and made his immortal claim before the brides could take her. I am uncertain. That he fed her his blood would indicate a hope of an immortal pairing, but he continues to surprise me at each turn, something I find distasteful at best.”
The subterfuge of it all astounded me. “Feeding us vampire blood was to make it so he could potentially dump us and have us rise on our own, allowing him to bypass the brides brood altogether?”
“Yes, that is a possibility.” Emerick shrugged. “Things like that have been tried before, but it typically fails. The brides find out, and they claim the women into their broods. But if your father is an unknown vampire, they would not be able to place their claim—and he would hide your existence as a vampire from them. Secrets within secrets. But if that is the case, I fear I have sorely underestimated your father.”
I grunted, and as I refused to lose my temper and throw something at the wall, I paced, making frequent stops at the stove to poke at my soup.
“It seems your bride is quite displeased with this news,” Annora observed.
“Her father is a scoundrel with no care for the emotional health of his daughter, as until recently, he believed her to be of no true value,” Emerick stated. “Any woman scorned in such a way would become agitated. As I’m not foolish enough to get in my wife’s way, I’m going to arm her with knowledge, enough stakes to terrify any sane vampire, and get out of her way. I’ll enjoy watching her back.”
I raised a brow. “But what will I be wearing when you’re watching my back?”
After adjusting the temperature and timer on the oven, he returned to his stool. “I will hope for something sexy. I recommend against permitting me to dress you for your adventures into vengeance. I will dress you to my taste, so you will be quite sexy when viewed from any angle.”
“You are the reason you’re going to end up losing our competition,” I informed him. “But if it helps you lose faster, I don’t mind wearing more leather and displaying some competence.”
Gerry and Ford burst into laughter, and Annora joined in with a soft snicker.
“I see I have surrounded myself with upstarts, all planning for my downfall.” Joining in the general laughter, he checked on his chicken yet again.
“Hovering isn’t going to make it cook faster,” I pointed out.
“But hovering will permit me to remove it the exact moment it reaches perfection, allowing me to feed you the perfect chicken.”
“I am going to have to have a talk with your maker about having domesticated you perhaps a little too well,” I informed him. “However good perfect chicken might be, I’d rather you not give yourself an ulcer stressing over dinner while also stressing over this vampire brood turning people against their will. The last thing a vampire needs is a damned ulcer.”
“Ulcers aren’t typically a problem with vampires, although they do crop up from time to time.” Emerick scowled, and he tapped his fingers on the counter. “It seems our problems have grown significantly in the past few days. Why is this vampire or group of vampires releasing the newly turned now and in such numbers? What could they possibly hope to accomplish? Most were too weak to hunt even a mouse. The only bystander killed died from sheer stupidity. Only a fool approaches a starved vampire like that.” He huffed, wrinkled his nose, and as that wasn’t sufficient to display his disgust, he added a snort for good measure.
“And now that we know Emerick is severely annoyed by what’s going on, is there any reason to believe my father is part of the group doing this?”
Ford shook his head. “No. I believe your father is a rogue brood master, and he was planning on establishing his brood using you and your mother. That makes sense, as having an eligible female heir and a bride would put him higher in the rankings even without other vampires in the brood. Your kidnapping would have stopped his plans, although your successful turning will probably result in him making another attempt with a future daughter should he have one. Which leads back to the problem of your mother.”
My mother likely breathed fire, especially if Clarke had told her everything we knew about my turning, her current situation, and my father’s behavior. “Riddle me this, then. If my father is a vampire, why raise me to be so wary around preternaturals? I think it’s obvious I was not happy about clawing my way out of my own grave.”
For a long time, the four other vampires exchanged silent looks, and to my surprise, Annora sighed and replied, “There are few better ways for a vampire to hide his presence than to ally himself with those who hate vampires. It also makes it easier to understand his motives for his work in Harlem. He doesn’t just intend on taking advantage of the preternatural—he intends to create his own brood through his residencies. It would quite possibly transform him into the strongest brood master in New York, and possibly the entirety of the eastern United States.”
I frowned. “Then wouldn’t he be more upset that I’m not in his brood? And that my mother’s gone?”
Annora shrugged. “Old vampires play long games, and if your father is older than we expected, he’s been playing his long game very well. I certainly don’t know who he could be.”
“I know of a few old vampires he might be,” Emerick admitted. “Some are less savory than others. The problem is, I have not met any of them, so I have no way of knowing what they look like. Does your father refuse blood tests?”
“As is his right as a human with a pristine record,” I groused. “I’ve never seen him get sick, either. Not more than a little under the weather. He just doesn’t get bad colds or anything like that. He does get them, but they are never bad, and he recovers in a few days at most.”
The vampires exchanged glances.
“I’m guessing that’s a vampiric trait.” From my first breath, had I lived a lie? “Do vampires have children with human women often?”
