Page 83 of Red Masquerade

No matter that all this time I thought he was dead—knowing, now, that he wasn’t, but he could have been—too many emotions circled within me, so many worries, such anger and frustration that any of this had happenedat all.

“That was when my Sire found me and Made me. He drained me of what little life I had left and buried me—the ground was unholy and desecrated with the violence of the war, stained with the blood of every other soldier that had fallen, and some that had lived, and it was in that ground that I changed. Every bit of soil soaked with that misery, that anger. Imagine that—a land so profane, so synonymous with suffering, with anguish, and thenrottingthere. I was cursed as soon as I arrived, as soon as I touched that ground, and perhaps that’s why he chose me.”

He looked off into the room, smoothing his hand through his hair once. Perhaps it was too intense a story to tell here, of all places. His hearing was more attuned than mine. Any other vampire could listen in on us.

I opened my mouth to tell him that if he couldn’t bring himself to speak it now, I would understand. But he kept going, his hand a fist on the table, his voice low enough only for me to hear:

“I had no knowledge of any of this happening. My consciousness was long gone, my blood near spent after that battle. I was as good as dead. And though my spirit was still tied to my body, it was nearly free to move on to the next life. Buthetook the last drops for himself. Drank what little blood I had left, stole me from my fate. His bite is poison if he wants it to be, and I suppose there was something singular about me amongst all those other dying men. He put me in that ground for my transformation to take place. I died in that soil—”

His voice caught, and he said nothing for a moment, his jaw flexing, until he looked at me directly with those icy eyes. “That is why I am no longer Adam Vering. That is why you must understand I am no longer that boy.

“Idied. My mortal flesh is dead, but I live on, reanimated by the poison that was in my Sire’s bite. It pushes every human cell out over the span of an evening, and when I awoke, I was no longer a man. I was new, reborn, but dead all the same. A creature birthed from that unhallowed ground, transforming in that blood-soaked soil to become what I am now.

“I renamed myself. When I awoke, I was half-delirious. But I knew, if nothing else, I could not let him know who I had been. Couldn’t tell him who Adam Vering was. I did not know my Sire, didn’t trust himnotto find my family or—or you, and wreak more havoc. I had to mourn myself—you mourned me here at home, safe across the ocean, but it hasn’t crossed your mind thatIhad to mourn myowndeath, my own humanity.”

Anger flashed in his eyes as he talked of his Sire. This other vampire, across the ocean.

My food sat untouched before us, my hunger from before gone. In all my misery the past few days, disbelief that he’d hide himself from me, I hadn’t considered what it madehimfeel. It had not crossed my mind that what he’d become was something he hated. That maybe he had wished for death.

My eyes ached as I tried to will tears away. I had cried too much the past few days; I did not want to spill any more tears. “Stop,” I said. “Tell it to me later.”

“I want you to understand,” his fingers gripped mine once more, “why it took me six years to come back to you.”

I shook my head. IhatedLucas. Hated what had happened to us.

That was what I mourned the most, what could have been if we were left alone. Adam had died, and I’d not known it. I would haveneverknown it, not for sure.

His new existence was both a blessing and a curse.

“I would’ve died, over and over again, for centuries, if it meant I would get this moment.” He looked at me directly. “If it meant we’d be together once again. I’d become a specter if just to follow you and know you were alive and well. I wouldn’t let death get in the way of my loving you.”

Twenty-Eight

An hour later, our meals abandoned, he stood and came to my side to lead me through the pitch dark room. A hand at my elbow, another on the small of my back. I didn’t feel strange eyes on me anymore, like the room had cleared out, and we were truly alone in that midnight dining room.

A brush of air against my skin, as though someone moved by; another murmur from Vince, before he guided me through the inky black. Candles had begun to flicker out, one by one, as the evening went on, until only a few dim smudges of light remained.

Out in the hallway, silence greeted us once more.

“What is behind all of these doors?” I asked.

“Some are guest rooms,” he said.

Just like in his house?

“The other floors lead to other clubs. This building is a hotspot, of sorts.”

“Other clubs?”

I could see him glance at me, eyes shining in the dark. “For other species.”

No wonder he’d told me to be quiet in the lobby.

I said nothing more as we left the way we came. Half-expecting to run into someone else—some other vampires—whatother species, exactly? This evening he’d only given me a glimpse of his world, a sliver of his story, and already my mind whirled.

His fingers held mine tightly, squeezing every so often as though to remind me—or himself—that he was there.

Out on the street, the evening had turned even chillier. The doorman gave another nod of acknowledgement as we passed. Vince reached a hand out, holding a few bills in between two outstretched fingers, which the doorman promptly plucked and stuffed into his pocket, nodding once more in thanks.