farm.”
“Someone attacked me—”
“Some thing ,” he corrected.
Mercy pressed her lips tightly together to keep them from trembling. “Someone,” she repeated softly, uncertainly.
“There’s no time for denial. The sooner you come to grips with the truth, the better.”
She glared at him. “And what is the truth?” she demanded, her voice going up an octave to keep even with her anxiety level.
“You were there,” he said, sounding as if he was forcing the words out through gritted teeth. “You know what happened. You have the marks to prove it.”
As if on cue, her breast throbbed and her sudden anger drained away. Her hand moved, hovered over her breast, then fisted and clamped around her elbow once more.
She shook her head. “A prop from a costume shop,” she murmured, even though the canines had felt painfully real when they’d pierced her flesh. An involuntary shudder ran through her body.
“He jumped out a three-story window, yet there was no body on the ground.”
“I only have your word for it.”
He made a sound very close to a growl.
Savage stepped forward. “Please forgive my friend. We don’t normally allow him to mix with civilized company. The etiquette lessons never took.”
The dark-haired man moved toward her, but she jerked away.
“Do I need to be worried?” she asked McGinnis, needing to hear the reassurance from him. “I was…bitten.” She gave her head a small shake, not quite believing the words coming from her own mouth. “What do I need? A tetanus shot?”
It was Savage who answered. “Vampires don’t carry diseases, except vampirism.”
Vampirism . Mercy shook, unable to repeat the word aloud. Jesus. Somehow, her lips moved as if her brain had switched to automatic pilot. “What about holy water?”
“Holy water and crosses are useless,” explained Savage. “Silver, garlic, sunlight. You take their heads or stake them through the heart. Silver bullets will slow them down but won’t kill them. Same with garlic. Burns like hell, but you need a lot to do serious damage.”
“Jesus.”
“Prayers don’t help.”
Mercy breathed deeply, carefully, not wanting to pass out and wishing she would. Savage managed to place a hand on her shoulder and guide her forward two steps before she shrugged off his touch and faced McGinnis again.
“Back at the museum, I assume you didn’t just happen to be in the neighborhood.”
His face was wiped clean of expression. “No.”
“Were you following…” Her voice trailed off. She swallowed and tried again. “Were you following Edmond? He told me his name is Edmond. No surname.”
“No,” he said again.
It was a lengthy moment before his reply really hit her. Her eyes went wide and her fingers clenched reflexively.
“You were following me ? But why ?”
His response didn’t follow immediately, and his face seemed to sharpen, as if his skin was tightening over his features—and ice frosted the inside of her hollow stomach as an unseen hand curled around the column of her throat.
Without pausing to consider the consequences, she strode to him, reached out, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Why, damn it?”
“You were the bait.”
She let go of his shirt and slid a step back. McGinnis’s hand came up, but he seemed to think better of touching her. But there was no need. She wasn’t feeling shock or faint. For some reason, his words calmed her. He didn’t lie to her and he didn’t try to pretty up the truth.
But was it truly calmness? Or had the ice inside her numbed every emotion?
“What made me so special?”
It was Savage who spoke. “About four months ago, I found one of Edmond’s safe houses. He had pictures of you posted everywhere.”
“Why?”
Savage shook his head. “We don’t know.”
It was Mercy’s turn to shake her head.
“Someone attacked me—”
“Some thing ,” he corrected.
Mercy pressed her lips tightly together to keep them from trembling. “Someone,” she repeated softly, uncertainly.
“There’s no time for denial. The sooner you come to grips with the truth, the better.”
She glared at him. “And what is the truth?” she demanded, her voice going up an octave to keep even with her anxiety level.
“You were there,” he said, sounding as if he was forcing the words out through gritted teeth. “You know what happened. You have the marks to prove it.”
As if on cue, her breast throbbed and her sudden anger drained away. Her hand moved, hovered over her breast, then fisted and clamped around her elbow once more.
She shook her head. “A prop from a costume shop,” she murmured, even though the canines had felt painfully real when they’d pierced her flesh. An involuntary shudder ran through her body.
“He jumped out a three-story window, yet there was no body on the ground.”
“I only have your word for it.”
He made a sound very close to a growl.
Savage stepped forward. “Please forgive my friend. We don’t normally allow him to mix with civilized company. The etiquette lessons never took.”
The dark-haired man moved toward her, but she jerked away.
“Do I need to be worried?” she asked McGinnis, needing to hear the reassurance from him. “I was…bitten.” She gave her head a small shake, not quite believing the words coming from her own mouth. “What do I need? A tetanus shot?”
It was Savage who answered. “Vampires don’t carry diseases, except vampirism.”
Vampirism . Mercy shook, unable to repeat the word aloud. Jesus. Somehow, her lips moved as if her brain had switched to automatic pilot. “What about holy water?”
“Holy water and crosses are useless,” explained Savage. “Silver, garlic, sunlight. You take their heads or stake them through the heart. Silver bullets will slow them down but won’t kill them. Same with garlic. Burns like hell, but you need a lot to do serious damage.”
“Jesus.”
“Prayers don’t help.”
Mercy breathed deeply, carefully, not wanting to pass out and wishing she would. Savage managed to place a hand on her shoulder and guide her forward two steps before she shrugged off his touch and faced McGinnis again.
“Back at the museum, I assume you didn’t just happen to be in the neighborhood.”
His face was wiped clean of expression. “No.”
“Were you following…” Her voice trailed off. She swallowed and tried again. “Were you following Edmond? He told me his name is Edmond. No surname.”
“No,” he said again.
It was a lengthy moment before his reply really hit her. Her eyes went wide and her fingers clenched reflexively.
“You were following me ? But why ?”
His response didn’t follow immediately, and his face seemed to sharpen, as if his skin was tightening over his features—and ice frosted the inside of her hollow stomach as an unseen hand curled around the column of her throat.
Without pausing to consider the consequences, she strode to him, reached out, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Why, damn it?”
“You were the bait.”
She let go of his shirt and slid a step back. McGinnis’s hand came up, but he seemed to think better of touching her. But there was no need. She wasn’t feeling shock or faint. For some reason, his words calmed her. He didn’t lie to her and he didn’t try to pretty up the truth.
But was it truly calmness? Or had the ice inside her numbed every emotion?
“What made me so special?”
It was Savage who spoke. “About four months ago, I found one of Edmond’s safe houses. He had pictures of you posted everywhere.”
“Why?”
Savage shook his head. “We don’t know.”
It was Mercy’s turn to shake her head.
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