Stanton stills, his shoulders stiffening, the darkness in his eyes stirring. It’s so subtle that I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t been watching. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid that neither of those options will save you.” He pulls away, untangling his fingers from my hair, and he watches almost hypnotically as the dark strands fall against my chest.
“Why not?” I grab his hand when he continues to play with my hair, and his gaze jumps toward mine. When I see his dark eyes, I’m actually uncertain if it’s the man looking at me or the vampire.
“Because when they find out what you are, they’re not going to stop coming for you.” I’m not sure if he pulls away or if I drop his hand, and I barely restrain the impulse to slap my palm over his mouth to keep him from saying more.
Milo shatters our standoff by asking the question I’m too afraid to say aloud, his voice harsh and more than a little suspicious. “What do you meanwhatshe is?”
He snatches up my hand again and pulls me close, his grip almost bruising, as if he suspects whatever Stanton says will take me away from him forever. Stanton’s gaze drops to Milo’s hand on my arm, his eyes narrowing, and a muscle jumps in his jaw at the possessive touch.
When Stanton lifts his dark caramel eyes to mine, it’s like a punch to the solar plexus. My chest tightens, and I lose my ability to breathe at the fatalistic acceptance on his face. “If I’m right, and I’m pretty sure that I’m right, you are the first and only one of your kind in existence. The last time your species was even whispered about was over a millennium ago.”
He takes a step closer, and I flinch, suddenly wary. I suspect that whatever he’s going to say will change everything, and I’m already struggling to keep up with the unexpected twists and turns in my life.
Unfortunately, there is no running from fate.
Or Stanton, apparently.
He gently brushes my hair away from my face, worry shading his eyes, and dread keeps me from giving in to the nearly overwhelming impulse to lean into his touch. I grab his arm, pulling his hand away, then glare up at him. “Just tell me.”
“You are a dhampyr.” When I give him a blank look, not understanding why the news is freaking him out, he presses his forehead against mine, and his accent deepens. “If anyone discovers the truth, they’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth to claim you.”
Well, fuck me, who knew there were worse things than dying?
ChapterTwenty-Five
JOLIE
Dhampyr.
Why does that sound like some sort of communicable disease? I jerk away from Stanton, then back away from them both. “What the hell is a dhampyr?”
Milo’s green eyes widen with awe, his voice almost reverent when he answers. “A dhampyr is a hybrid—a cross between a human and a vampire. All of the strengths of a vampire, with none of the weaknesses.” He rubs his brow, then mutters to himself, “I can’t believe I didn’t see the signs sooner. Dhampyrs were thought to be only myths, stories the ancients told the fledglings to keep us in line.”
Stricken by the thought that Milo might be afraid of me, my insides curdle like they’ve been doused in acid. Logically, I know I’m a monster—I’ve killed a lot of people, bathed in their blood, and enjoyed every fucking minute of it—but maybe he’s right.
Maybe he should fear me.
But apparently, even monsters can get their feelings hurt.
Go figure.
I tuck away the burst of pain and focus on getting answers. “Is it because of how I was turned?”
Stanton’s brown eyes flash black at the mention of the torture I endured, but he shakes his head. “Not likely. The bodies we recovered from the pit were treated the same way. No one really knows how it happens, who is selected to live and who dies.”
“Some say those with a pure soul who cry out for vengeance become a dhampyr. Others speculate that it has to do with your bloodline reacting to the venom in our saliva.” Milo clicks away on the tablet in his hands before he reluctantly lowers it, like it has failed him for the first time, and he gives me an apologetic shrug. “No one really knows.”
Stanton leans back against the edge of his desk and crosses his arms. “Some consider being turned into a dhampyr a blessing.”
I snort at the absurdity that anyone would ask for this life.
Stanton only raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Throughout centuries, humans have searched for vampires and the secrets of immortality. Most will do anything, pay any price, to avoid death, even if they lose their soul in the process. You are the bridge between the two worlds. Power. Strength. Immortality. The ability to walk in the sunlight. You avoided the curse placed upon vampires.”
I shake my head, wishing I could deny the stupidity of some people. “Living forever sounds like a curse to me.” Even the thought of being trapped forever as a monster is enough for me to want to rip out my own heart. I might only be semi-sane now, but as the years pass, I’m sure the rest of my sanity will vanish as well.
Stanton cocks his head to the side, studying me in a way that has heat sliding through my veins, and I shuffle uncomfortably. The movement snaps him out of whatever was going on in his head. “And that’s probably one of the reasons you were chosen to become a dhampyr. Most people, vampire or human, would give anything to claim that dubious prize, even sacrifice their own family.”
