“I don’t know if I have the words,” he said. “It feels like ...everything. Or like the only thing that matters. I hope that you have never gone hungry, but if you have, it’s really the only thing I can think of to compare it to. Food to a starving man. Yet it’s not at all like eating. It’s more like breathing, where breathing is ... an act of worship.”
I stared, feeling the hot surge of blood beneath my skin—knowing he must feel it, too. His eyes came again to my face, fevered, like in the moments before the attack.
But his voice was even as he said, “Yet there is nothing reverent about it. It is a violent, selfish, unforgivable act.”
“I forgive you,” I said faintly.
His brows knit, and he quickly looked down.
“I’m frightened for you, Harker.”
There was an edge of disbelief to the dry laugh that escaped him.
“Now that they’ve found another body,” I went on, “I worry what people will be saying in the village. Jack is the worst of them all. There’s no question in his mind you are to blame for these attacks.”
Harker let out a long breath. “In this century, I’m more concerned about the views of the constabulary than the mob. And I don’t think Mr. Hilliard believes I’m his murderer.”
“Has he been to see you again?”
“He came yesterday, after they found the other victim. He’s a reasonable and intelligent man, but people are pressing him for answers and action.”
Feeling fatigue catching up with me, I sat down on the edge of the slab. Its cold seeped through my layers of clothing, just as Harker’s had when he’d held me.
“What will you do now?” I asked.
Stooping to pick up a stone, he said, “I must find this creature before he kills again.”
“But you thought you were looking for a man like you before. Someone you could reason with.”
He frowned, turning the stone in his fingers. “If Goosevar is somehow connected with my family, that may still be possible. I don’t see another option except to go to the constable with the truth.”
“I fear that instead of believing you, he’ll think you’re the madman he’s looking for. Or—”
“Hewillbelieve me and think I’m the madman he’s looking for.”
I gave him a hopeless nod.
He threw his stone, and we watched it skip a couple of times on the pool’s dark surface before the fog swallowed it.
“The creature I saw was larger than a man,” I said. “I know you’re fast and strong, but could he hurt you if he wished to?”
Harker looked at me, the softness in his eyes causing a now-familiar flutter. “It’s kind of you to worry. You needn’t.”
“Butcouldhe?”
“If you’re asking whether Tregarricks are invincible, the answer is no. I have cut and burned myself many times in the laboratory. Though my wounds healed very quickly before I began denying myself blood.”
This did nothing to ease my worry. “Do vampires have blood of their own?”
“We do. But it’s dark and sluggish. ‘Dead’ blood, my father called it.”
Catching a low murmur of voices then, I glanced toward the birchwood.
“They sneaked in from the other side to retrieve a snare,” Harker said quietly.
His young poachers. I forgot sometimes how aware he was of everything around him. “You should frighten them,” I said.
He shot me a questioning look.
