Page 48 of The Duke’s Bloody Bargain

His story sounded impossible, but if he deluded himself, I wasn’t going to change his mind as long as he wanted Rothbart dead.

I glanced at the corpse. “You’re killing innocents.”

“Hardly. I’m killing criminals.” He pointed at the dead man behind him. “Including that piece of work. After I finish, who knows? I might start killing innocents.”

Irene and Darius moved behind me, and I glanced at them. They were holding vials of blessed water, and I hoped they wouldn’t need to use them.

I returned my attention to Bethlen. “And Miss Lucy Graves? Why did you attack her?”

“I needed to feed, but she didn’t deserve to die, and her blood didn’t taste sweet. She is alive, is she not?” He shifted his gaze to Irene. “What would you do if you lost the love of your life? I’m sure you can understand me.”

I blocked his view of her. “You must stop killing at will.”

His muscles swelled to the point they tore the jacket at the seams. “Don’t give me orders. I’m your master.”

“Alex,” Darius said in a serene tone, “be calm.”

I drew a deep breath. “Your presence is going to be noticed.”

Bethlen nodded. “Good.”

“We’ll find Rothbart and kill him together, but we can’t leave a pile of bodies behind.”

The words didn’t ring true to my own ears. I sounded as if reciting a piece. Why shouldn’t we wipe the city of those thugs, the minions of the man who had killed my sister and almost killed Irene?

Bethlen must have sensed the rage inside me because he smiled. “Revenge is the only thing I have. After I finish, you may kill me.”

I opened and closed my hands, not sure what to say. Perhaps I should let the fellow do his work.

He continued. “But if you kill me, you’ll lose your gift.”

When the meaning of his words sank in, I remained still. The world had shifted on its axis. “What?”

“You’ll return human.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Darius. “Is that true?”

He shrugged. “I think so. He definitely knows more about vampires than I do.”

When Darius admitted not knowing something, the matter was serious.

Damn. To be rid of my curse. Forever. No more thirst. My fear of touching might endure, but I wouldn’t deal with the need to drink blood. I would be a normal man, someone Irene would love without regret.

I was about to ask Bethlen if he was tired of this half-life, made of pain and darkness, when a drunk man staggered down the alley. The count moved with the speed of lightning, so fast that even my sharp, enhanced sight couldn’t follow him. He attacked and drained the unlucky man in a split second.

Behind me, Irene gasped and Darius cursed.

Now I understood how the count had killed three men without them realising what was happening. The man fell to the ground with a thud in a heap of limbs.

The count wiped his mouth with a fresh handkerchief and the fastidious care of a cat grooming itself. “I guess I’m ready to kill innocents.”

He whipped his head to the side, like a hound who had heard a noise.

“You must stop.” The thirst burnt my throat, and talking worsened it, but it was wasted breath.

He disappeared. Vanished. Poof.

I searched around, but the alley was empty. Apart from the bodies.