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Jesse stared again. Emory stared right back. “You adopted Dimity?”
“The day she was born—legally and completely. I have the certificates in my desk. Dimity is my daughter.”
Jesse remembered Dimity’s drawing of her father. The dark hair, the blue eyes. “You’re her…you’re‘Daddy’?”
“I am.”
Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
“Perhaps I can explain,” Emory said, getting to his feet and drifting to the drinks counter. “Are you sure you won’t have one?”
“Make it a double.”
Emory brought him a large brandy and resumed his seat. Jesse swallowed a burning mouthful then gestured impatiently. “Go on then. Explain…if you bloody can.”
“I’ll do my best,” Emory replied, a slow smile warming his mouth but not his eyes. “Dimity’s biological father was a young man called Cooper Hawthorn,” he said, settling back into the cushions. “He had a one-night stand with an Austrian exchange student shortly before he was killed in a boating accident. He didn’t even know she was pregnant.” He was looking into his glass. The amber liquid glowed in the firelight. “Cooper was the last descendant of my family.”
Jesse frowned. “But he had a different name.”
“I was never married.” He gave Jesse a direct look. “But my sister married a man named John Hawthorn, a Yorkshire businessman.”
“You…you had a sister?”
“Yes…and parents, once.” His smile was back. “We all start off human, though it’s hard to remember, now.” He looked into the fire. “My sister’s marriage was quite the scandal. I’ve found reports on it. Marrying below her station, everyone said. But Hawthorn was a good man. She was happy. They had children—and their children had children.” He sipped his drink. “I’ve kept my distance, out of necessity. But I’ve always watched over them. We’ve dwindled, though. Ever since Oswald Hall burned down, we’ve been blighted by misfortune.”
“How’s that?” Jesse asked in a low voice.
Emory’s face was set. “The official explanation was that it was an accident. A servant knocked over a candle. But I watched over the hall in those days. I saw the villagers setting the fire, blocking the doors. I tried to help, but it was too late.” He drew a breath. “Only three of the family escaped.”
“Jesus,” Jesse breathed. “Why?”
Emory smiled a grim smile. “There were rumors the hall was the lair of a vampire.”
Jesse stared at him, unable to find any words.
“It was all nonsense,” he continued, looking away. “I hadn’t lived there for over a hundred years by that point. The hall was home to my sister’s grandchildren and their families. But rumors are like venom. They spread before anyone has stopped to consider the source of the problem, which was another local landowner getting angry that my great-great-niece refused his proposal of marriage.” He sighed. “He set his servants gossiping in the inns and at church. Since stories around my disappearance still circulated, it quickly gained traction. The next thing I knew, the whole county was turned against us.”
“Shit, Emory. That’s awful.”
“It was,” he said quietly. “My family’s home was destroyed. Their land was taken from them. They tried everything to survive over the years—some bad things, some desperate things. We limped on into this century. But Cooper was the last.” His eyes were far away. “His parents died young. It was a real tragedy. He never really got over it. Headed down a bad road—drink, drugs, women.” A line appeared between his dark eyebrows. “I wanted to intervene but couldn’t. We were still too mistrusted, hiding our numbers and commune locations, breaking into blood banks to survive.” His eyes hardened. “I watched his life fall apart from afar, like I had so many other members of my family, unable to do anything. Then he died, and I thought it was all over…” He raised his eyes. “But then I heard about Dimity. I heard how her young mother wanted to give her up for adoption. I moved to Vienna. I arranged it all.”
“But how?” Jesse stammered. “How is it allowed? You’re not… I mean…”
“I have a very, very good lawyer.” Emory smiled. “And I am related to Dimity—I have proof—and I care for her…greatly.”
Jesse wrestled through his thoughts then finally asked, “So what happened?”
“Helena Hawthorn was Cooper’s aunt by marriage,” he said, draining his drink. “About a year ago, somehow, she found out about Dimity’s existence. She hired a private security team to break into my home during the day, while I was helpless. They took her away and brought her to England. I’ve been fighting to get her back ever since.”
“But”—Jesse rubbed his temples—“how can she even do that?”
“The British police are on her side.”
“Well, if there really is disputed custody, shouldn’t she be in care or something until it’s settled?”
“Dimity’s had so much disruption to her life already,” he said quietly. “I would never do that to her.”
Jesse snorted and drank more brandy. “Might be better than what she has now.”
