of worry into his voice. “I work in Sri Lanka, so I do not get to visit often.”
Gerald shrugged his shoulder. “This place was cleaned out some time ago, from my understanding, although there might be pockets left.”
Traian signaled Mirko over for another round. “Pockets of what?”
Gerald glanced right and left as if someone might be listening. He’d been drinking quite a bit already and he waited until the innkeeper had poured another drink. He raised the glass to his mouth. “Have you heard the rumors of vampires in this region?” He took a healthy swallow and regarded Traian steadily over the rim of the glass.
Traian frowned. “Sure. Everyone has. This is reputed to be vampire country, but everyone knows that’s just a myth. I have read that in some of the more remote villages residents still believe that after someone dies, if a member of the family becomes ill, that they have to dig up the body, cut off the head, stuff the mouth with garlic and drive a stake through the heart in order to insure the supposed vampire is dead. That practice has been documented around the world in various countries, but it isn’t widespread anymore and these locals certainly don’t do such things.”
Gerald took another swallow of his drink. “Don’t be too sure. It wasn’t that long ago that there was a huge purge right around this area.”
“I know what you are talking about. I did research into the history of the region when my parents were first considering settling here, but the investigation determined those ritualistic killings were outsiders who murdered a number of people in some sort of misguided belief that vampires exist. It really is safe for tourists and travelers here.”
Gerald tossed back the rest of his drink and signaled the innkeeper to refill their glasses. “On my tab,” he instructed and then studied Traian over his drink. His face was flushed, his eyes a little bloodshot. “Did you ever consider that there was a cover-up? That maybe those men really had found something?” He turned his back to the bar and surveyed the room. “Maybe all those myths and legends aren’t just stories.”
“Scary thought,” Traian said, allowing interest to creep into his voice. “History is always interesting because if you read various accounts of anything, the stories change depending on who is telling them.”
“Exactly,” Gerald agreed, slurring the word slightly.
Traian very carefully began to raise the temperature around the man. “There generally is a grain of truth to many of the legends, but most of the time, I have found there is a scientific reason behind unusual occurrences.”
Gerald grinned at him as if catching him in a compromising statement. “You half believe the stories about vampires.”
Traian looked uncomfortable as he shrugged his shoulders. “No, of course not.”
Gerald nodded toward the Sanders family. “Look at that beautiful woman. The one with the long hair. She’s the type, you know. She came in early in the morning, slept all day and is up now.”
“You mean Gabrielle?” Traian laughed. “She’s a researcher for hot viruses on vacation with her sister and brother. They like to climb mountains—mostly during the day.” He wiped his forehead. “I think I’ve had a bit too much to drink. It’s getting hot in here.”
Gerald took the suggestion. “The innkeeper keeps adding wood to the fire. They never seem to realize the more people are in the building the less they have to heat it.” He clapped Traian on the shoulder. “Let’s take a little walk outside and get some fresh air.”
Obligingly, Traian set his glass on the bar and followed Gerald around the tables, taking one more sweep of the room, tuning in to the various conversations to make certain there was no whisper of conspiracy before he left his lifemate and her family. He stepped out of the inn and allowed the door to swing closed behind him.
Fog slid through the surrounding trees, entering the village with long fingers, pulling a gray veil over the houses and businesses, draping them in the thick, cool mist. Wind blew gently in from the south, a steady stream that brought with it information of night creatures moving in the deeper woods. Aromas of food cooking drifted to Traian, and he heard the whispers of conversation in buildings he passed as he walked with Gerald along the narrow sidewalk toward the deeper shadows.
“I grew up hearing stories of monsters,” Gerald offered. “Of course all of us kids thought our parents were a little