to save everyone. Mainly because the ingredients for a cure are rare. Sadly, many vampires have already died, and for most, it’s already too late.”
“So why try at all?” As soon as the question crossed my lips a possible reason for his interest in a cure came to me.
Damien pressed his lips together into a thin line, unwilling to offer an answer.
“There’s someone you want to save,” Rosalina said, stealing the words from my mouth.
The mage stopped pacing and stared at the floor. He didn’t deny or confirm the assertion, but the pain that etched his face gave us the answer.
“I’m sorry,” Rosalina said.
Damien shrugged dismissively as if it didn’t matter, but it was clear it did. A lot. I wondered who he knew that needed saving.
“We’d like to help,” I said, my conviction building even though I had no clue what we could do. “And we understand what you’re saying about the possibility of having only one dose in the end, but I think we’d rather have some hope.” I searched Rosalina’s gaze. She nodded in agreement.
The mage shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, but I won’t help you build pipe dreams. Getting more ingredients is impossible. Now, are you going to tell me who you think is behind all of this? Or do I have to use a truth spell?”
It was a shitty deal, but we figured we owed him after sending the cops after him, so even though the exchange didn’t seem quite fair, we told him about Stephen.
Chapter 6
The next day, something Damien had said when he found his potential cure destroyed still bothered me. “I suppose I’m paying for my own mistakes.”
I’d tried not to read too much into it, but the statement kept coming back again and again, and it got tangled with something else that still bugged me, even after many days since my first discovery of rhabo. It was this: as much as Eric seemed opposed to the drug, he had served it as his party. Why?
The insistent subject of their involvement echoed in my head as I stood in front of Eric in his mirrored training room. It was 4 AM, and I’d had to claw myself out of bed to get here, but I’d made it.
I dropped my duffel bag on the floor, lost in thought.
“Chop, chop, Sunder. We don’t have all day,” Eric urged.
I glanced up, my eyes narrowed.
“Something the matter?” he asked.
I tried to dismiss my nagging questions, but they wouldn’t go away. I gave in. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’ve been wondering... why did you serve rhabo at your party?”
Eric’s expression hardened. “Is that how you want to use your limited time with me?”
I shrugged.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Have you wondered why I would throw a party at all?”
It had occurred to me. The man was a grump. He wouldn’t know “partying” if it nipped him in the balls. He would probably think it was fleas.
“It was extortion,” he said. “Parties where rhabo is available to vamps have been going on in the city for some time. It is how they introduced the drug so quickly in the first place. One free dose and the vamps are hooked for life—or maybe I should say ‘til true death.”
“Extortion?” I said slowly. “That means they have something on you.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Your intellect shines even as early as 4 AM.”
My obvious remark had just been my way of asking “what” they had on him—not that I thought he would offer an answer. To my surprise, however, he did.
“Rhabo is my fault,” he said.
Huh?
“Damien created it because I asked him to.” Eric’s expression remained cold. “Its creation was the favor I owed him, which you’re helping me repay.”
I shook my head, unable to comprehend. “You... Damien... Why?”
“It was meant to kill one vampire, and one vampire only. And it did, but the knowledge of its existence leaked, and someone was able to recreate it. I don’t know who yet, but when I find out,” his left eye twitched, “I will kill him.”
Shivers broke over my arms. I rubbed them absentmindedly. I wondered what vampire he’d killed with the drug. Whoever it had been, they must have been powerful for Eric to need a weapon other than his teeth and claws. Jake had been right. Damien and Eric had everything to do with rhabo.
Eric held my gaze across the room, unflinching, as if daring me to challenge him. He was to blame, even if indirectly, for all