Page 21 of Dhampira

He looked at me sharply. “Think carefully before you call me a liar, Corinthe.”

“What else am I supposed to call you when you won’t be honest with me?” My voice rose. “You only answer questions when you feel like it. You claim I’ll be in danger in Ghedda, but I could have died just now.”

“You were completely safe inside the circle. If you had stayed put like I ordered, that wolf never could have gotten to you.”

Was he serious? I stepped toward him, my temper rising. “I apologize for trying to save your life.”

The spark of anger in his eyes faded. “Listen—”

“You said trust is earned. If you want me to trust you, tell me the truth. Otherwise, I’ll assume you have something to hide, and I’ll do whatever it takes to escape. I can’t stop you from dragging me into Nocta, but I can make it very difficult for you. I’ll fight you every step of the way.”

He looked at Maddox, and if I hadn’t known better, I could have sworn he considered asking the horse for advice on how to proceed. When he turned back to me, he sighed. “I wish I had some nefarious scheme to confess. It would be a lot more interesting than the truth.”

I folded my arms. “I’m dying to hear it.”

“I scented the wolves when I crossed into Ghedda a few days ago. It didn’t concern me much. The werewolves are territorial fucker— Ah, individuals. It’s not unusual for them to stalk travelers, especially ones with money.” He nodded to the trees around us. “I brought you through a different area of the border just to be safe. As for lying to you, that accusation is unfounded. Did I withhold information? Yes. But you’d just been kidnapped by Cyprio and then carried across Ghedda for hours. You needed rest. You were unlikely to get it if you sat up half the night worried about werewolves.”

I absorbed his statement, mentally searching for holes and hints of duplicity. “You said all of Nocta serves King Rasimir.” Immediately, the trees around the clearing shivered and bowed. The first time, the display had impressed me. Now it set my teeth on edge.

Vander waited for the trees to straighten. “Every kingdom has criminals.” A faint smile touched his lips. “Even vaunted Ghedda.”

“And all werewolves are criminals?”

“Not all. I believe this was an isolated attack. Just rogues playing at being highwaymen. But Nocta isn’t immune from occasional unrest. Like their animal counterparts, werewolves live in rigid social hierarchies. Plenty of pack leaders view themselves as kings. They don’t like bowing before another king—or those who serve him.”

“Like you,” I said.

He inclined his head. “Like me.”

I studied him, wondering if maybe the werewolf had gotten it wrong—if maybe I was the fool to accept Vander’s story.

“Your hands,” I said at last. “I saw claws when you were fighting.”

“I expect you did.” He looked at the sky. “The sun is rising. I’ll bury these bodies, and we can ride out.”

I wedged my foot in the door he tried to close. “And you’ll tell me about the claws?”

His chest lifted as he sighed. “And I’ll tell you about the claws.”

“They were a gift,” Vander said a half hour later when we were seated on Maddox. We’d emerged from the forest as the sky turned pink and orange. I didn’t have to ask if we’d fully crossed the Feyline. As Vander guided the horse up a rocky incline, tendrils of power brushed my skin. The twinkling lights I’d glimpsed the day before were back—and now there were more of them.

I looked down at Vander’s hand near my waist. He’d forgone his gloves, and he held the reins in a loose grip. His knuckles were large but ordinary, with no sign of the bone-colored talons that had shredded the werewolf’s throat. Maybe they were like my fangs, which slid down from tiny openings in my gums. Or maybe they were like the dragonstone gown and worked through some kind of magic I had no hope of figuring out.

“Someone gave you claws as a gift?” I asked.

He made a noise of assent. “One of the elven lords.”

“You met an elf?” I twisted around so I could see his face. Excitement shivered through me. “An actual elf?”

He nodded, his hair copper in the dawning light. “I did him a service. The elves don’t like to be in anyone’s debt, so he gave me claws. The elves don’t like it when you refuse their gifts, either.”

“Would you have refused them if you could?”

“No. Not at the time.” He trained his gaze on the terrain ahead of us. “Almost there.”

I swung back around, my heart thumping. The slope was just rocks, grass, and a few wildflowers. “Where?”

Vander clicked his tongue, urging Maddox into a canter. “I had another reason for taking you through the Wendlewood.” The horse charged up the rise, and I gasped as the power in the air swelled. Seconds later, we crested the hill.