Page 146 of Vampire's Choice
“Such fire,” the Trad said. “You’d be a good breeder. The human I fed upon that night, one of Grollner’s food slaves, failed in that task, as so many do. But she fed me well before she expired. Her last meal.”
He looked ready to snicker over the joke, but Merc’s grip on his throat captured and held it. The vampire tried to fight the hold, which only constricted further. Asva flailed, beating Merc’s arm.
“Pinching off a tick’s head is more difficult than me pinching off yours,” Merc informed the Trad impassively.
Youthful bloodlust rarely gripped Ruth. It mortified her that it had crept up on her like that, but seeing someone smirk over Clara’s death had broken her strained nerves. “Sorry, my lady,” Ruth muttered, as Merc occupied the Trad.
“It’s fine,” Kaela said low, releasing her. “Trads are rarely good houseguests.”
Asva gagged. His feet were no longer touching the balcony floor.
Merc, I’m under control. I promise. He didn’t hurt me.
He wants to. It’s all over him.
Yes, but bigger things are at stake.
Merc dropped him. As Asva sagged against the wall, Merc gave him a pointed look of disgust. “You’ll mind your manners here. If you don’t have any, pretend you do.”
Asva straightened, eying Merc with dislike, but also a healthy amount of fear and respect. When Merc stepped back, taking up position next to Garron, his relief was evident. “If you are here to help your own kind, Asva, what purpose does goading us serve?” Kaela demanded.
“None, my lady.” He sent Merc a sidelong glance. “It is…habit. I would apologize, but it’s all I can do to be around your kind and your…servant, without either vomiting or attempting to kill you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Ruth said. “All this chess bullshit aside, what do you think is going on? What’s he planning? You probably have a guess.”
“I don’t know. But it gave me a terrible feeling. The dreams she has,” Asva rasped. “The fortune teller. I’ve had them, too. We have…shared them, at times. That’s how I felt her presence.”
“So you’re a seer. Did you lead them to her?”
When Ruth posed the question, and Asva nodded, her bloodlust screamed anew at her to rip out his throat. This time she felt a push from Merc, a small burst of energy that helped her control it.
“But that was before the conversation with Grollner,” Asva admitted. “What I have felt and seen since then, it does not bode well for the Trads. I know my feelings are not specific, but they are rarely wrong.”
“When will his plan happen?”
“He would not reveal that to me.” Asva paused. “But if he was teasing us with it, my guess is it is already in process. He wouldn’t risk tipping his hand too soon. Grollner longs for the destruction of your way of life. The Council is in his crosshairs. Honestly, I would not mourn their loss. But the more he spoke, the more I felt as if it were the Trads facing annihilation.
“And…no matter how much I revile how you choose to live, you are vampires. There is a hope, no matter how slim, that your world will come to the wild places and find the roots we have found. You would be the better for it, I am sure.”
While Ruth was sure Asva wished to put her in a burlap sack and carry her off in a windowless van, she didn’t doubt his honesty. Merc’s slight nod confirmed it.
“Maybe you should consider that a two-way street,” Kaela said. “The species that refuses to change often ensures its own extinction.”
“So does the species that changes too much. Too many compromises, turning your back on who you are and what you were created to be.” Asva rubbed his throat and eyed the door. “I have nothing further, and I do not wish to linger.”
Kaela glanced at Merc and Ruth. Just a cryptic chess match and an anxious feeling. Yet that didn’t reassure Ruth, because his worry was real, and he wouldn’t have met with them if he didn’t feel it was worth the great risk to himself.
His words were a puzzle planted in her head. Like Clara had said, each vision brought them missing pieces, and Ruth felt like he’d just handed them several key ones. That foreboding, coupled with Clara’s specific warning to her—or guidance—had Ruth in a hold as ruthless as Merc’s.
You’re an important key, Ruth… Your experience, what you see and feel, what you know, will help you see…
Asva’s words, while cryptic, weren’t meaningless. If Ruth could just figure out what the fucking meaning was.
“I’ll escort you to the door,” Kaela told Asva.
Merc accompanied the overlord as before. After they left the balcony, Garron invited Ruth back inside the office. “So, from your reaction, Clara isn’t doing well.”
“No.”