CHAPTER TEN || JEREMY #2
Then he yawned again. When I glanced at him, his eyes were bloodshot and watery. When he caught me staring, he turned away sharply.
Sorry, pal, I already saw it.
The sun beat down—far harsher than back in western Washington, where clouds often obscured everything to a dull gray. There, he probably barely noticed the sun except in summer. Here, near the California border, the sky was a flawless, dazzling blue.
It was nice, with the crisp spring breeze. But sunlight was a no-go for most vampires. And Thierry was apparently no exception. Pack lore said it weakened them until they could barely move. That part was clearly wrong.
And if my father and grandfather had both been wrong about something that basic… what else had they been wrong about?
Because if Thierry couldn’t feel anything human, then how could he be afraid?
And I knew he still was.
It was also the second time he’d tried to send me away.
If I didn’t know better, I could almost imagine he was worried about my safety.
“We should check out the motel,” I said, nodding toward the parked cars. “There might be people in the rooms.”
My ulterior motive was getting him out of the sunlight. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Thierry as a person, but I couldn’t stand to see him suffer. My wolf couldn’t, either—it was practically pacing in my chest from the moment it noticed his discomfort.
Wordlessly, Thierry nodded and led the way to the rental office. We stepped through the door, and I saw immediately that the motel wasn’t operational. It was as empty as the rest of the town. An untouched cup of coffee sat on the desk beside a computer monitor.
I touched the side of the mug. Cold.
Thierry slipped behind the counter to the computer—presumably used to check guests in—and tapped the space bar. The monitor flickered to life just as I stepped around to watch. No password. Whoever had been working last had been watching a movie on a streaming service.
The film was frozen on-screen, a dialog box reading: Are you still there?
Thierry’s expression went colder, more remote. He stared at the screen for a long moment. Then, darkening, he shut the monitor off without a word.
In that instant, I knew he felt the gravity of what had happened here. He felt it every bit as much as I did.
Impossible.
But true.
I swallowed hard, staring at him. He didn’t seem to notice my entire worldview was rearranging—resetting itself to include the fact that vampires, even assholes like Thierry, could feel emotions after all. And maybe Thierry wasn’t nearly as cold and unaffected as he pretended to be.
The smell of fried food lingered from deeper in, past the open doorway to what must have been the manager’s apartment.
Mingled with it came another, fainter scent: blood. Already fading. Too late to save anyone.
When Thierry started toward it, I stopped him.
“There’s no heartbeat,” I said, stepping forward. I almost put a hand on his shoulder before I caught myself. “No movement, no breathing. If someone human was hiding in there, we’d know it.”
“There’s blood in the air,” Thierry replied coolly. “We need to see what happened. That’s the whole point of our mission. If you refuse to see that, you ought to leave and stop getting in my way.”
“It doesn’t make sense to waste time here.”
He shot me a suspicious look. “What do you think you’re doing, wolf?”
Truth was, if there were no survivors, I didn’t want him going in there. Knowing whatever he saw might affect him had… changed things.
I wanted to—
…What?
I wanted to protect him from seeing whatever waited on the other side of that door. That’s what.
Before I could phrase it in a way that wouldn’t piss him off, he shook his head, lost patience, and vanished through the doorway.
“Shit,” I muttered, and followed.
The living room was surprisingly well-decorated for a tiny middle-of-nowhere town.
Probably not many shopping options here.
An expensive rug covered most of the floor, with a matching couch and armchairs, an espresso-colored coffee table, a display case of DVDs, and a sleek, wall-mounted TV.
Framed artwork and photographs lined the walls.
I avoided looking too closely—they were landscapes, done by hand.
It was too easy to imagine someone like Ian, lost in their work with a paintbrush in hand, not having any concept of the danger about to befall them.
“Whoever lived here must’ve saved a ton on rent,” I guessed, wrenching my gaze away from the paintings. My voice came out thicker than I wanted, grief stabbing through me—but I was used to that by now.
“There are no signs of struggle,” Thierry said quietly. “Not in here, and not in the office.”
Before I could ask why that mattered, he led us into the kitchen, following the scent of blood as easily as I could.
The lights were all on.
The kitchen was immaculate and surprisingly large, with sage-green cabinets, spotless white tile counters, and pristine appliances. Potted herbs lined the windowsill, soaking up the late-morning sun. In the center of the room stood a sturdy square table, the chairs neatly pushed in.
And there was a large pool of dried blood, soaked into the hardwood floor. An overturned chair lay beside it.
Thierry’s gaze lingered on the stain before sweeping the rest of the room.
“Whoever was attacked here was surprised,” he said finally. “No signs of struggle. Nothing out of place. They didn’t fight back.”
“The victim knew their attacker, then?”
His troubled gaze met mine. “Yes.”
“There’s no body. And the blood wasn’t disturbed.”
“I’m now even more certain this was a vampire. Likely one who knew the victim. They put their prey at ease long enough to strike without resistance.”
He said it dully, like reading from a report. But his eyes still held that troubled look. And I knew, through the growing mate bond, he felt both revulsion and fury.
“You’re upset,” I said.
He pursed his lips. “I’ve seen my share of death, Jeremy.”
I didn’t point out there was no corpse here—just as there hadn’t been anywhere else.
Instead, I asked, “Why kill someone they knew?”
“Do they need a reason?” His voice was light, but baiting. “I thought all vampires were monsters?”
He wanted a fight, I realized. He wanted an outlet for the emotions clawing at him. It was surprisingly… human.
I held his gaze. “We both know I don’t think that anymore.”
He scowled, probably annoyed I hadn’t risen to his bait. “Well, you’re half-wrong. Some vampires are killers. It’s not all of us, not even most of us. But the unlucky ones—those without any guidance in the beginning—those are the ones who become monsters.”
“As in…?”
“They lose their conscience. Their empathy. Their ability to love anyone or anything but themselves.”
When I just stared at him, trying to reconcile that with the very clear contradiction standing beside me, he sighed and muttered under his breath, “I’m going to need to print a pamphlet or something.
” Then, at normal volume: “The first few months after a vampire transitions are a delicate balancing act. Humanity and the newer vampiric instincts fight to assert dominance within the fledgling’s psyche.
Humanity almost always wins out in the end, so long as the vampire doesn’t murder anyone—even by accident.
” He paused. “But the hunger in the very beginning, mixed with your confusion about what has happened to you, is sometimes enough to drive you to madness. You would do anything to end it.”
The grief I sensed from him was strange—incongruous with the cold tone of his words. Almost as if he’d lived through this himself.
“Once you started, it would be hard to stop, then.”
Thierry pursed his lips, studying me intently. Judging by the look on his face, he was hoping I’d say something to piss him off.
When I didn’t, resignation settled over him.
“When vampires in Seattle are made—which requires informed and enthusiastic consent from both parties, as well as an interview with the king or one of his representatives—they are removed from human society for three months. They’re monitored constantly by their maker.
It’s the only way to ensure they remain themselves. ”
“And without that, vampires become monsters?” I said, piecing together a disturbing picture. “Without supervision and guidance, they become creatures who would, what? Kill the people they cared about in life?”
Thierry gave me a sharp nod, his eyes glittering as though gauging my reaction. “Yes. For starters.”
“How do you get them back, then? Once that happens? Do you… what? Send them to vampire therapy?”
Thierry’s eyes widened at that.
“There is no getting them back,” he said slowly, shaking his head.
Then he hesitated, clearly debating with himself.
At last, he added, “It’s only been done once before, that I’m aware of.
” A smile slid onto his lips, though nothing about this was even remotely funny.
“And even then, only under very special circumstances.”
He looked like he might’ve said more, but his lips snapped shut and he scowled, as though already regretting what he’d told me.
I’d heard enough. Revulsion flooded me, and my gaze dropped to the bloodstain on the floor. I saw it in a new light. It wasn’t just the fact that someone had lost their life here. They’d probably lost their soul, too.
“You’re saying… whoever did this was probably an innocent person who got turned against their will. They never stood a chance. This was done to them. And now they’re just… gone? Forever? Just like that?”
His desire to leave the gas station manager’s office suddenly made more sense. More evidence of his humanity. Even after eight centuries, this still affected him. Though I was equally sure he’d never want me to know it.
Thierry let out a long breath, frowning at me as though my reaction had surprised him. Which was probably true. And if it had, he was in good company. If you’d told me a month ago I’d spend even a moment empathizing with vampires, I would’ve told you to get bent.
“Yes,” he said. “They’re gone. Just like that.”
“And the whole town…” I let it trail off.
“That’s precisely right. The whole town,” Thierry said hollowly. “I imagine this place will be very different when the sun sets. Quite well-populated. Provided, of course, the newborn vampires are still here. They may have moved on in search of fresh feeding grounds.”
I felt a chill at that thought. A thousand newborn vampires, unleashed on the unsuspecting world.
Thierry yawned again, stifling it with the back of his hand. His eyes were still watering and bloodshot. He was clearly miserable but hiding it well. I stared at him for a long moment, something twisting in my chest at the idea of his discomfort—and that was what made me decide to act.
“Come on,” I said, turning away from him and walking out of the kitchen.
I made it through the living room before realizing he hadn’t followed.
I paused, calling over my shoulder, “Look, we both know you’re not going to let me go off on my own to get eaten by a horde of bloodthirsty vampires, so quit pretending you don’t give a shit. ”
Thierry sighed. A moment later, he appeared in the doorway, scowling.
“This changes nothing between us,” he said solemnly. “The king would be upset if I got you killed, is all. I don’t personally care about your safety one way or another.”
I smirked at him, but I was pretty sure we both knew he was lying. “If that’s what helps you sleep at night. Or during the day. Whichever.”
“Have I told you how much I loathe you?”
My smirk widened into a grin. “You might’ve mentioned it once or twice.”