I swallowed hard. Seeing other people in pain affected me. “She sounds like she was an amazing woman. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“So am I.”
“You said a dhampyr killed her.”
“Yes.” His jaw tightened.
I shivered. “I—I haven’t seen too many monster dhampyrs, but the ones I have seen have been scary as hell. It must have been horrible for you, but I’m sure there was nothing you could have done to save her.”
He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re wrong.”
I was confused. I looked at Lawrence, whose gray eyes flicked to me.
“It wasn’t a monster dhampyr,” he said.
I was surprised. “It wasn’t?”
“Lawrence . . .” Dr. Reynolds began.
Lawrence hissed out a breath. “It’s time you faced this once and for all, as we discussed. Maybe then you can finally move on.”
“I could say the same to you.”
“You lost Clara two years ago. It’s only been six months for me.”
“It’s different.”
I watched them warily. Declan stood like a statue beside me, his hands clasped behind his back like a soldier at ease.
“No, it’s so similar I’m surprised you can’t see it.” Lawrence wrung his hands and looked at me. “My wife is human—a human married to a vampire. Victor’s wife—she was a vampire.”
My mouth fell open. “A vampire?”
Reynolds put his glasses back on. His face was still. It looked as if he’d managed to put a lid on his grief for the moment. “She was already a vampire when I met her. It was difficult for her sometimes to control her hungers, but she maintained herself with class and dignity. Right up until she was murdered.”
“Murdered by a dhampyr,” I said.
“Yes.” Dr. Reynolds’s expression had rapidly turned from raw emotion to absolute ice. “The very dhampyr who stands with us in this room.”
Shock slammed into me by the cold, blunt statement. My gaze shot to Declan. He watched Dr. Reynolds carefully, no outward reaction showing at this accusation.
“You’re saying that I killed your wife,” he said.
“Yes.” The word was a hiss.
I felt the tension in the room rise to a sickening level. I waited for Declan to deny it, to say it was impossible that he’d killed Dr. Reynolds’s wife.
But he didn’t.
Declan didn’t move from where he stood, his expression didn’t change, but his gaze grew more intense. Dr. Reynolds had gotten his full attention. “I don’t kill innocents. I don’t creep up behind them and slit their throats. I face them. They know who I am and why I’m there. That’s when they usually attack.”
The low-level hate I’d sensed previously from Dr. Reynolds now spilled over. I’d assumed he hated dhampyrs in general. I had no idea it was specifically focused on Declan. “I watched from the shadows when you staked her. Yes, she was defending herself. Of course she was. What other choice did she have?”
“To explain who she was. To deal with me on an intelligent level. If she’d done that, I might have given her the benefit of the doubt. I’m sent out after rogue vampires who cause damage and death, not loving wives of scientists. If I slayed her, it means that she was dangerous.”
“You can justify it any way you want to. It doesn’t change what happened.”
Declan hissed a breath out between his clenched teeth. “Jill, we’re out of here. This isn’t a man who wants to help you. Not today anyway.”