Four

 

Desiree jumped from the bed and raced to the hall. Or she tried. Fear kept her vampire speed in check.

Hunter caught up, grabbed her arm, and yanked her back into the room, his mouth on her ear. “What in the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

His caveman attitude dispelled any reservations she’d had, and she fought to get free. “I’m going to strangle Brooke, if I’m lucky. If that doesn’t work, I’ll drive a stake through her damn heart or whatever the hell else it takes to get her off my ass.” She twisted her wrist, but his grip was too strong for her to break, her measly strength no better than when she’d been mortal. “Let. Go.”

“No.” He swept her into his arms, dropped her on the bed, and pointed. “You’re staying in here. I’m the fucking bodyguard. Got it?”

He had to be kidding if he thought she’d allow him to face danger alone. Should Brooke catch him off-guard and turn him…

The room lurched, and her stomach cramped. She couldn’t allow his future to become as bleak as hers and did what she never thought she would in his presence. She bared her fangs and hissed, the noise uglier than what a feral cat or snake produced in a horror flick.

He lifted his face to the ceiling and sighed loudly.

Cracking glass sounded in the front room.

Hunter spun around and leaped forward, his jump as powerful and elegant as a dancer, though far more astounding. Before he dropped down, he’d shifted and landed on his large paws, his panther sleek, fur midnight black, a deadly growl pouring from his throat.

He bounded down the hall.

Her shift happened as quickly. In bat form, she flew after him.

Near the window, glass dotted the living room floor, shards sparkling in the available light seeping in from the outside. Framed in the pane was a perfect outline of a bat in flight, cracks spidering the glass surrounding it, pieces still dropping to the sill.

Desiree flew to every corner in the room where Brooke might have hidden.

She wasn’t there, nor behind or beneath the furniture.

Panting, Hunter propped his front paws on the window ledge and peered outside.

Past him, something zipped by in the distance. Desiree hovered near the window.

Brooke faced her in bat form, black eyes gleaming, fangs exposed. A shriek pumped from her vile throat, intense hatred in the shrill sound.

Hunter’s powerful growl shook the room.

Brooke hissed.

He reared up, hulking limbs bunched, prepared to attack.

She spun in a tight circle and sped away.

In an instant, he was back to human form, hurrying to the front door.

Desiree got there first, also transformed, and pressed her back against the wood, arms out. “Don’t even think about going after her.”

Veins corded his neck, his complexion almost maroon. “Move. Now.”

“No. You can’t go out there.”

He reached for her.

She was faster this time and dodged his grip swiftly, her arm blurred.

“Fuck.” He tried but failed to catch her wrist. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Keeping you here. If you haven’t noticed, you’re nude.”

He looked down, surprise on his face.

She caught a breath. “You can’t go out there like that. You’ll get arrested. Then where will you be, besides a jail cell? You can’t catch her if she flies away. You’re magnificent, but panthers can’t take wing. And unless you have another talent I don’t know about, as a mortal you’re also earthbound without a plane.”

His face darkened further. “You think?” He gave her a sour look. “So what do you want me to do? Forget this happened? I can’t. I won’t. No. Damn. Way. She’s escalating. If I hadn’t been here, she might have—”

“She didn’t, okay? Because you were around. My guess is she heard or saw you tearing down the hall, freaked, and took off.” Thank God. To imagine him harmed… Desiree couldn’t do it. She rubbed her goosepimply arms but couldn’t heat them, her skin bloodsucker icy. “Like every stalker, she’s a coward. She needs surprise and an ambush for her lunatic plan to work.”

“Exactly. That’s why you’re moving to my place. Grab some things. We’ll get the rest later.”

“Hold on.”

He stopped in the hall and looked over. “No. That’s final.”

Like hell. She crossed her arms, not budging from the spot. “Last I looked you’re not my daddy or my husband in a dystopian tale.”

“What in the fuck are you talking about? I’m trying to protect you. I’m your damn bodyguard, remember?”

“At my discretion.”

“Holy fucking shit.” He rubbed his forehead. “You’re threatening to fire me again? We need a damn contract with lots of rules for you.”

“You actually believe I’d sign it? Not going to happen. And not because I like being difficult. Believe me, I know this isn’t easy on you.”

His eyes rounded. “You think?”

She kept her calm. Someone had to. “Have you forgotten, I have a show to run? My studio’s here, not at your place.”

He crossed the room, towering over her.

She lifted her chin. “You’re not going to intimidate me no matter how hard you try. I’m not leaving.”

“You can’t stay.” He flung out his arms. “Do you want another repeat of tonight or worse? Until I corner her and stop this insanity, I need to keep you safe. You’re my fucking mate, or have you forgotten that little detail already? What do you think will happen to me, if you’re gone?”

His words pained her, his fury and misery tightening her throat. If she became his mate, which she couldn’t, he’d never know joy again. Who could with a vampire? Except a sadist or masochist, which described Zander and Brooke perfectly, not him. She touched his cheek. “People are hurting out there. They need me.”

He slumped. “And I don’t?”

Oh baby. She wanted to hug him but didn’t dare, hoping he’d find someone else. A better person than she’d been or would ever be.

Unable to say the words, she slipped her arms around his shoulders and sagged against him. “Please understand. I don’t want her to know where you live or anything about you. If you can’t do this in secret, then I can’t do it at all.”

He stiffened against her. “Now you’re not only firing me but you want me to leave, too?”

To protect him, she’d go into hiding at a place where he’d never find her. “I don’t want to, unless you force me.”

“Force you?” He made a derisive sound and held her tightly. “As if I could?”

She rested her head on his chest, loving his heat and his heart’s fierce drumming. Wishing hers could match it was a fool’s game she had to quit playing. “Thanks for understanding.”

“I don’t.” He swore than eased her from him. “But I’ll do this your way. Do you have a hammer and nails here and plywood by any chance?”

“No. Why?”

“To cover the window until I can order new glass for it. Give me a sec and I’ll make a call.” He strode toward the bedroom.

She gripped his wrist, stopping him. “There’s a hardware store opened at this hour?”

“Not that I know of. One of my men will bring the things. Watch your feet there’s glass everywhere.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bull. You’re the most obstinate woman I’ve ever met.” He swept her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Once she was on the mattress, he checked her soles. “Lucky you weren’t cut.”

“Let me see your feet.”

“No time.” He gathered his clothes in the hall, pulled his smartphone from his jeans pocket, and spoke to someone named Mike, detailing what he needed. After giving the man her address, he ended the call. “He’ll be here in thirty.” Hunter pulled on his jeans and biker boots. “Get some sleep. After I clean up, I’ll take care of everything else.”

Meaning his suicide mission to get Brooke. “Not without me you won’t.”

He planted his hands on his hips. “Are you usually this defiant, or are you putting on an act for my benefit?”

“I’m generally way worse.” She offered a sweet smile. “Sorry, but I’m not as perfect as you thought.”

A grin blossomed on his face. “Don’t be too sure. I like you sassy.”

Good God. He refused to let her dissuade him. Which meant she’d now have to keep him safe while he did the same for her. She pulled a black T-shirt from her bureau and black jeans from her closet.

He watched her dress. “Do you always wear that color, or did you…ah…?”

“Prefer others before I became a vampire? Go ahead, say it, I know what I am.”

His features hardened. He grasped her shoulders. “No more talking smack about yourself, understood? I know who you are, and nothing about you is going to change my mind. Not even if you sing off-key, hum incessantly, snore, hate sports, and adore chick flicks.”

“What if I crave blood, specifically yours?”

He held out his arm. “Have at it. I’ll be your blood slave. Turn me if you want. Then we’ll be a matching pair.”

“Don’t say that.” She punched his hand.

“Beat me up, too, if being mean makes you happy. It won’t matter.” He chucked her chin. “I’m in for the duration.”

She covered her eyes.

“Oh baby.” He gathered her close and rubbed her back. “I swear living with me won’t be so awful.”

A giggle escaped her before she could stop it. Unable to help herself, she clung to him. “You’re not the problem.”

“Neither are you.” He swatted her butt. “Put on your heels so you don’t cut your feet out there.”

She chose her sneakers instead.

He made a face but didn’t protest.

Quickly, they cleaned up the glass and checked the room.

“Anything missing?” He regarded her electronics.

“Not that I can see. You must have chased her away before she could damage anything else.”

“Then I did my job.” He slipped his arm around her waist, led her to the sofa, and handed her the bag. “Your chocolate awaits. Enjoy.”

“Not without you.”

“Even if sweets were my thing, which they’re not, I wouldn’t deprive you of what you love most.”

That would be him. He was too good and optimistic, a dangerous combination in their precarious situation. “You like rabbit and steak, right?” She pulled him to her kitchen table, checked the Styrofoam containers, and grabbed his. “While I nuke this, there’s beer in the fridge.”

“Utensils, plates, napkins?”

“Yep, I got those, too.” She told him where to find them.

Seated at the table, they dug in.

Sauce from the chocolate lava cake oozed over her bottom lip, the glorious flavors exploding in her mouth. She shivered and moaned.

He chewed his steak. “Good, huh?”

“Pure bliss. Try some.” She speared a tiny piece, not wanting to give up more, and offered it to him.

“No, thanks.” He leaned away.

She wasn’t certain if he found the treat genuinely distasteful or didn’t want to take as much as a morsel from her. “Shifters can’t eat dessert?”

“On occasion, if we want. It’s not like it’s poison to us or anything. But I’m a meat sort of guy.”

It showed. His solid pecs and imposing biceps flexed with his every move, his abs so sculpted she could count each one. Dark hair peeked from his pits. Stubble graced his face and throat, begging for a lick and a kiss she didn’t dare give yet still longed for. He was the most virile man she’d ever known, yet the gentlest, too.

He held her hand as they ate, him polishing off his rabbit and steak quickly.

She dawdled over her cheesecake, switching from it to her brownie and the chocolate torte Ariel had also provided to avoid finishing them as quickly as she had the lava cake.

After draining his beer, he swiped a napkin across his mouth. “Do you always eat this slowly, or are you trying to drag out the pleasure?”

She licked chocolate sauce off her lips. “The latter.”

“No need. New Moon’s still open. I’ll order delivery. You want a double or triple order this time? Or more?”

If she ate that much, she’d burst. “Triple. Thanks.”

“Anything for you.”

Except listening to reason when she wanted to protect him from a godawful future at her side. She hadn’t a clue what might happen when her BFFs’ spells and potions no longer worked and she craved blood. If she and Hunter were still together—which didn’t seem possible or prudent—he’d have to order plasma deliveries from blood banks to keep her from attacking him or offering himself as a sacrifice.

She shrank at the thought and another horrible consideration—the unending eternity she had. Hunter wasn’t immortal. As a shifter, she wasn’t certain if he calculated his lifespan in animal or human years or a combination, which could mean an even shorter time.

Sickened at the notion, she covered her mouth.

He finished his call to New Moon and leaned in. “What’s wrong?”

There weren’t enough years for her to explain.

“Too much of a good thing?” He looked at her chocolate-smeared plate and remaining dessert, the calorie-rich food sweetened to the extreme and drowned in sauce. “You need to hurl or—?”

“How long will you live?”

His eyes widened.

Oh crap. She couldn’t believe she’d said that. The words had simply fallen from her mouth. “I’m sorry.” She waved her hands. “Don’t answer. None of my business. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay.” He caught her wrist. “My kind live four thousand years with each generation getting more. Given how I take care of myself—no drugs, smoking, or excess drinking—I’ll make it to five thousand or possibly beyond that.”

Not eternity by a long shot, but not bad either. “For real?”

“I’ll never lie to you, especially about something so important.” He cupped her neck. “Who knows what the world will be like then? Immortality might be a commonplace occurrence for mortals and my species by then.”

She shouldn’t hope, but couldn’t deny the emotion.

He regarded her closely. “Is that a beginning smile I see?”

“No.” She killed it to confront the brutal truth. “What happens when the potions and spells stop working on my bloodlust?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“I’m not taking a drop from you. And I’d drive a stake through my own heart before turning you into what I am.”

“In that case, I’ve had another idea to help.”

He really was into her. She grasped his hand. “Please don’t say you plan to buy me a blood bank.”

His chuckle made his pecs jump. “Not even close. I—”

Hard knocks sounded on her front door.

“Must be Mike. I’ll get it. Go on, finish your chocolate.” He pecked her mouth and jogged into the living room.

Mike lumbered inside, a mountain of a man who could have easily snapped a sumo wrestler in two without breaking a sweat. Noticing her, he offered a shy smile. “Evening.”

“Hi, I’m Desiree DuBois.” She joined him and offered her hand.

“Mike Lundford.”

They shook. She squeezed his fingers harder than he did hers.

Hunter shoved his hands in his front pockets. “On your way in, did you see a bat or a red-headed woman anywhere?”

If the question surprised Mike, he didn’t show it. “Uh-uh.”

“Let me know if you do.” Hunter gestured to the window. “There’s the problem.”

“No biggie. Let me get my things.” He hauled a toolbox and plywood from the hall.

Desiree’s phone rang. She stared at her purse, afraid to open it and find out Brooke was calling.

Hunter touched her arm. “Want me to get it?”

That would be worse. Brooke would know what he sounded like in mortal form and might somehow learn who he was from such a small clue. If nothing else, Desiree had finally understood one thing from this mess: the insane were fucking determined. “No, I will. It’s probably the wrong number or a salesperson.”

“At this hour?”

“I’m a night owl, remember? I’ve gotten sales calls this late before. I’m sure the telemarketing companies have me tracked on their computers.” She grabbed her phone and hurried to the hall, her back to Hunter. The display showed Unknown Caller. She wanted to heave. Gritting her teeth, she answered, but didn’t speak.

The silence lengthened. It had to be Brooke.

Desiree wanted to curse her, but kept her tongue.

“Hello, hello? Are you there, dear?”

Gerri? Desiree sagged against the wall.

Hunter strode to her. She put out her hand and mouthed, “It’s Gerri.”

Mike hammered away.

Torn between him and her, Hunter stayed put.

“Hi.” Desiree padded toward her bedroom. “Why are you calling?”

“Did I wake you? I thought you stayed up most of the night because of your show and being wound up after it, trying to help those poor listeners who have so many problems.”

“I am. That is, I do, but—”

“Are you with Hunter now? Are you two in bed? Oh no. Is his cock deep inside—”

“Would I be talking to you or anyone if it was…if we were…if…”

“It’s called making love or screwing, dear. Either works for me. And I would hope you wouldn’t be the kind who absolutely must answer a phone or look at your computer to the exclusion of interacting with someone in the flesh, as it were. That is so rude.” She sniffed. “But back to your problem. Why isn’t Hunter’s rod deep inside your mouth or pussy, making you happy?”

Desiree breathed hard and kept her voice as quiet as she could. “Excuse. Me?”

Gerri clucked her tongue. “No need to be dramatic or surly, dear. I know you two like each other. I don’t make mistakes when I match. You love him, don’t you? And he loves you.”

Holy fucking hell. “Negative on both counts. Want to know why? I’m a freaking vampire.”

“You’re lying about your feelings, but we’ll address that later. What does your undead state have to do with anything?”

Hunter and Gerri had to be related. They both owned the same stubborn streak and a refusal to accept cold, hard facts. “I suck blood, or at least crave it. I can turn into a bat, which isn’t pretty. My kind has been reviled throughout history, despite those sappy Twilight movies. Chalk that up to adolescent girls believing anything no matter how goofy.”

“I agree, but those aren’t good reasons as to why you and Hunter can’t work out, now are they?”

A scream rose to Desiree’s throat. She fought to keep it down. “You’re right. They aren’t, but here’s one. I can’t give him a family, all right?”

“How can you be so sure?”

She pressed her forehead against the wall. “I’m dead. That’s how.”

More tongue clucking. “You’re looking at this the wrong way. Family is simply and purely people who love you, nothing more or less. I’m sure Hunter will guide you in the correct direction, if you’ll only listen. You do adore him. I hear it in your voice. I’m so pleased, though hardly surprised given my track record.” She chuckled. “I hope you’ll consider filming an infomercial for PDA about you two for your show.”

This is nuts.

“Dear, are you still there?”

Barely. As Mike worked on the window, Hunter stood close to him, speaking too softly to overhear, a determined look in his eyes.

 

Hunter kept his back to the hall and Desiree as he talked to Mike. “I don’t care what it takes, I want everything you and the guys can find on Brooke Ayers, right down to how much she weighed when she was born or hatched.”

“Got it.”

“Have it to me by noon, no later, along with a plan on how to trap her. Call Nolan and Kylar for insight into what her moves might be.”

Shock crossed Mike’s face. “We’re working with vampires now?”

Being in love with one had changed everything for Hunter. He frowned. “We use whatever resources we can to accomplish our goal. No burns or talking shit when it comes to the undead, especially around Desiree. Understand?”

Mike’s gaze darted to her. “Completely.”

“When you’re back at the office, tell the other guys, too. Also, I want a 24/7 detail outside this apartment building, watching this unit. Anyone or anything, especially a bat, nears this place, the men are to stop it whatever way they can and call me.”

“Done.”

Phone in hand, Hunter speed-dialed Francisco, the head warlock in his New Orleans group.

Even this late, or early, he answered immediately. “Hunter. What’s up?”

“Have a question. Actually, a problem.”

“I’m here to help whatever way I can.”

That’s what Hunter wanted to hear. He opened the door and stepped into the hall.

Hurried footsteps followed.

Before Desiree could join him, Hunter pushed his head into the living room, their mouths close, breaths colliding. “You need to stay inside.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Not Brooke, all right? Do you believe me? Better still, do you trust me to do what’s right by both of us and not make matters worse?”

She chewed her lip. “I know you’ll try…”

“Then you think Brooke is smarter than I am?”

“She’s out of control and has lunacy on her side. She has no fear.”

He thumbed chocolate from Desiree’s mouth. “If that were true, she wouldn’t have split tonight when she saw me. Ever hear the old saying, there’s a method to the madness? Even if she seems unpredictable, she isn’t. If she’s not outside watching this place, then she’s somewhere listening to your program when it’s on. As soon as my men get her phone records to know where her calls are pinging from, we’ll have a map detailing her movements. My guess is she doesn’t venture far from here and you during the day or night.”

“Is it really that easy?”

It was, unless Brooke didn’t have her smartphone on her while she was outside this place or wherever the hell else she lurked. Please, not that. “It is. So, stay where you are, all right?”

She nodded.

The moment she stepped back, he closed the door and strode down the hall. “I’m back.”

Francisco hmm’d. “Who was that?”

“Doesn’t matter. To your knowledge is it possible for a vampire to blush?”

“Huh?” Francisco laughed. “Not that I know of. Every one I’ve seen is pasty.”

“Can you or a witch cast a spell or concoct a potion to make a vamp’s face color?”

“Beats me. Hang on. I’ll call Stella and put her in conference with us.”

She joined them in seconds. Hunter repeated his questions.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing, and I’ve been around forever.” Her raspy voice proved it. “Are you sure the person you’re talking about is actually undead.”

Hunter kneaded his aching shoulder. “Yeah. I saw her fangs, and she morphed into a bat.”

Francisco whistled. “Maybe she’s a new breed. A genetic deviation.”

Or something else Hunter hoped for. “Is it possible to undo a vampire bite? That is, to become mortal again through inherent goodness and someone else’s love?”

Silence.

“Hey guys.” He gripped his phone hard enough to make the casing squeak. “Help me out here. I’m serious.”

Francisco spoke. “If that’s what happened, or is happening to her, it’s news to me. Stella?”

“Same here. Are you in love with a bloodsucker, Hunter?”

He closed his eyes. Telling Desiree his innermost thoughts and baring his soul to her was one thing. For anyone else, he’d cut out his damn tongue first. “Can either of you or those you know cast a spell or produce a potion to change a vampire back to a mortal state?”

“No.”

They’d answered at the same time and far too quickly.

He rested his arm against the wall, his forehead pressed to it. “Fine, okay, you win. I’m in love, all right? She’s my mate. It’s killing her that she can’t have children any longer. It’s destroying me to see her in such agony. If anything happens to her… Fuck, I’ll die. Help me out here.”

Stella cleared her throat. “I could research spells and potions. You can, too, right, Francisco?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do it fast.” Hunter pushed away from the wall and paced. “Also, I need incantations and brews to fight her bloodlust.”

Francisco made a troubled sound. “She’s not trying to sink her fangs into you, is—”

“Don’t even think it, understand?” Hunter stilled. “She’d off herself before harming me or anyone else for that matter. Ergo, the problem. I’d gladly be her blood slave or become undead for her, but she won’t have it.”

They didn’t comment.

He hardly cared. “Can you do this for me?”

“On it.” Stella’s aged voice soothed. “I’ll call a coven immediately.”

“Thanks. Francisco?”

“I’ll get my bros together and see what we can do.”

“Hurry, please.”

“You got it.”

Hunter ended the call.

A young man approached, three heaping sacks from New Moon hanging from his arms.

Hunter gestured him to Desiree’s door. Once he added a generous tip and signed the bill, he slipped inside.

Desiree and Mike sat facing each other, the window repair forgotten, his head down, shoulders slumped.

Damn. She should work for Hunter’s business, interrogating stalkers until they knuckled under and became upstanding citizens. He cleared his throat.

Mike flinched and reddened.

She squeezed his shoulder then gave Hunter a peeved look.

Now he was on trial when she was picking his staffer’s brain for whatever she wanted to know? He longed to ask but, instead, lifted the bags in surrender. “Chocolate time.”

“In a minute. Mike’s got a problem. It’s personal.” She jerked her head like she wanted Hunter gone. “Do you mind?”

He couldn’t believe this was happening and lowered the sacks. “You expect me to leave?”

“Just from this area. There’s a TV in the bedroom. I have all the cable channels, even sports. When I’m done, I’ll call for you.”

Given Mike’s crestfallen face that could be hours from now. Hunter glared at him.

Desiree jabbed her thumb at the bedroom.

After dropping the bags on her kitchen table, he stormed away. Rather than watching the tube, he paced the room, scouring his mind for anyone else he could call to help find Brooke, return Desiree’s mortality, and if not that, make certain she gained an aversion to blood rather than an affinity for it.

A name popped up. He speed-dialed the number.

“Hunter!” Gerri gushed her greeting. “How are you?”

“Horrible. I need help fast.”

“Uh-uh.” She sniffed. “If you think I’m going to help you get over Desiree, you are dead wrong. You needed to be mated, and she’s perfect for you. It’s my guess you crave her as you never have another woman, and not only for her personality or smarts, but her figure, too. Given her publicity shots, you’re one lucky dude. Her ass. Those boobs. Wow. So don’t you dare tell me your dick is limp around her. I won’t believe it.”

He pinched his nose. “And I wouldn’t blame you, because you were right all along. I adore her. She’s my mate. I’ll never want anyone else.”

“Of course not.” She cleared her throat delicately. “So, why do you need my help? Is it because she can’t have children?”

“She told you that?”

“Of course. It hurts her terribly, but I said you’d convince her this isn’t the end of the world. It isn’t, you know. Use your head, man. The answer to her and your problem is staring you in the face, if you’d only look.”

He had and didn’t see it. “You mean you helping me?”

“No.” She sighed loudly. “How could I help with that?”

“By changing Desiree back to a mortal state.”

“What? Impossible. It can’t be done.”

Just what he needed, more pessimism. “Not you doing the actual transformation.” He sagged against the bathroom door. “But maybe someone you know pitching in. You’ve mated hundreds of paras and—”

“Thousands. The current count is on the PDA website, if you ever bothered to look at it.”

He gritted his teeth. “I swear I’ll read every line when we’re through here, but right now, I need you to ask whatever witch, warlock, and vampire you know if there is any way on earth to give Desiree her life back.”

“Are you certain you want that?”

“Why in the fuck wouldn’t I?” He squeezed his fist. “I want her happy. I’d give my own life to see her free and return to the woman she once was.”

“That hasn’t changed, only her undead state and attitude has, which I must say is awful. She needs more positivity in her life, but won’t get it if she turns mortal again.”

He threw up his hand. “Why not?”

“If she’s mortal and you’re a shifter, she’ll die when she’s eighty or so while you’ll have thousands of years to get through without her.”

Another complication he hadn’t considered. His legs gave out. He sank to the bed. “Fuck.”

“Exactly.”

“No, wait. I still want to try. Millennia with me might not be what she thinks or truly wants. I’m willing to sacrifice my happiness for hers. Will you please ask your former and current clients if they know any way to help in this? If not them, then those guys on Nova Aurora or any other planet you’ve visited. Their technology rocks. Surely they or someone in this damn universe has the key to changing this.”

“Have you told Desiree you’re asking around about it?”

“I’d rather not until I have a positive answer. Then I can give her a great surprise.”

“Or another dilemma. Right now, she believes she has no choice except to be a vampire. If you give her an option between that and being mortal, then having children only to see them and you hurt when she dies younger than the rest of you and you’re forced to continue without her, what do you think her answer will be?”