I helped Marsha back to his room because he couldn’t be trusted to walk a straight line let alone find his way on his own. He still wasn’t acting like himself and I hoped it was because of alcohol and not whatever Tris had done to him.

After Marsha passed out in his room, I started the long trek back to mine. I hadn’t told him what I found out. Not only because he wasn’t coherent enough to listen but because I didn’t know if he would believe me. Hell, I didn’t believe it even though I’d read it myself.

I had the book from the library tucked under my arm. I wasn’t about to let it out of my sight anytime soon. Plus, there had to be more information in there I could use to get out of this marking thing—if what Patrick had done had been marking me.

I half expected Patrick to be waiting for me in my bedroom but to my surprise, it was Asher who stood at my door. I slowly approached him, hoping he wouldn’t see where I had accidentally torn the hem of his beautiful dress. I moved the book into my hand, hiding it inside the full skirt but he wasn’t paying any mind to it.

“Clara.” He sighed, relief on his face. “I heard you ran out of the party. Again.” He gave me a chastising look before adding, “I thought maybe something had happened.”

“What?” I cocked my hip to the side and glared at him. “Like finding out you’re Patrick’s cousin? Or that he’s a vampire?”

Asher’s eyes widened and then darted around the hallway. When no one came running—or whatever is it that he’d expected to happen—he ushered me into my room. I tried to talk again but he pressed his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. Leaving me standing in the middle of the room he darted around, checking light shades and even the mirror before turning back to me.

“So, but I had to be sure they hadn’t put monitors in your room.”

“Monitors?” I asked, glancing around for whatever he was talking about.

“Recording devices. Sometimes if they think someone isn’t trustworthy—even a guest—they’ll put them around their bedroom to find out what they are thinking. Luckily, I think you are good,” Asher said but the look on his face wasn’t relief. It was worry.

“Okay, so what now?” I sighed, sitting down on the edge of my bed. I made sure to tuck the book under me so he couldn’t see it. I’d trusted Asher up until this point but after everything I’d learned tonight I wasn’t sure that was still a good idea.

“You tell me everything,” Asher said, sitting by my side.

So, I did. I told him about Patrick showing up at the bottom of the stairs. How he had told me they were cousins and then how Zara had shown up to ruin it all. I skipped the bit with Marsha and me. That was private and not relevant at all to what I wanted to know. Patrick’s and my conversation was a bit trickier because it all jumbled together under the pressure of hormones. I did get across a clear picture of what Patrick looked like after I’d nicked myself on his teeth, which I explained fully.

“And that’s all?” Asher asked, prodding for more information as if he knew I was keeping something back.

“That’s it,” I promised as I sat harder on the book beneath me.

Asher kept quiet for a few moments before he asked, “What makes you think he’s a vampire then, and not just an aggressive kisser? There are plenty of people who love a good nibble every once in a while.”

I flushed and stared down at the ground. Talking about people’s preferences wasn’t something I was used to, and doing so with Asher made it even worse. Finally, when I could look him in the eye again, I said, “I’m not stupid, Asher.”

“I never said you were,” he said, patting my hand as if I were a child. That pissed me off. “But you can’t jump to conclusions like that—not here. You walk a fine line as it is and if we want you to be chosen then-”

“But I have been!” I jumped to my feet forgetting for a moment that the book was under me. It slid to the ground with a loud thump, but before I could reach for it Asher scooped it up.

“What’s this?” His eyes widened as they landed on the title and then he thumbed through it with an increasing amount of shock.

“See,” I said coming up close to him, “I know all about the converts. It says it right there in the book. He marked me and I think Tris marked Marsha.” I left out the bit that she had also slipped him something. I’d figure out what to do about that later.

“That liar,” Asher growled, clutching the book in his hand.

“Okay, not the reaction I expected but better than nothing.” I reached for the book but Asher jerked it out of the way. “Hey, give it back. You know what I said was true. That’s mine. I’m going to need it if I’m going to get out of this mess.”

Asher threw his hands up in the air with a dramatic cry. “Fine, you’re right. Patrick’s a vampire. The whole stinking Crimson Fold are vampires. For crying out loud, I’m one!”

I gaped at Asher admission and took a few steps back from him. My movement caused him to drop his arms and frown.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he almost whimpered. “I’m not going to hurt you. Besides, you’re not my type.” He smirked and for a second I almost believed him.

And then the anger came. “You knew this whole time and didn’t say anything?” I pointed a finger at him, my voice rising with each word.

“Don’t look at me. It wasn’t my idea to lie about what we are. It’s theirs.” He gestured wildly with the book. “They’re all about secrecy to the point where they will convert someone and tell them there is no guide to help you with the transition. Blasted liars.” He scowled down at the book.

The reality of what was happening started to set in and I sank down to the floor. “So,” I said, my voice small. “How long have you been a vampire?”

Asher sat down next to me, letting his long legs stretch out before him. “Only about a century or two. That’s why Patrick and I are only distant cousins. He’s almost eight hundred years old.”

“Eight hundred?” I gaped at him. “What the crap! And I’m supposed to marry this guy?”

Asher gave me a pointed look. “Marry is a bit childish. Being a convert is forever. Literally. If you’d been a companion, then you might have been married.”

“Ah ha!” I wagged a finger at him. “I knew your companions weren’t just your helpers.”

The sponsor had the decency to blush. Could vampires even blush? Either way, his face did look like it had blood running through it. I put the thought away for another time. The mechanics of their physiology was too much for me to handle right then.

“My girls are my companions, yes, but I haven’t lain with any of them. We aren’t married, nor will we ever be.” The way he explained it held a hint of sadness to it and I wished he’d tell me more. But I didn’t dare to ask.

“So, is there any way out of this?” I asked, bumping my hand against the book.

“Not that I know of.” He sighed and leaned back against the bed. “Take heart in knowing they won’t convert you right away. There is a whole process. Your family must get used to being without you, so they don’t start to ask questions. Then there’s the whole re-education process where they are supposed to start making you think you want to be converted.”

“But I already know about it.”

“Ah, but they don’t know that. They will flower you with gifts and praises making you think you are welcome in their world so that you will do anything they ask of you. Then,” he held his finger up with a sense of finality, “then you will be turned before you even realize it is happening.”

I snorted. “That seems hard to believe. I think I would notice all my blood being drained from me.”

“You’d be surprised,” Asher muttered. “Though some make their converts so in love with them, they want nothing else than to be with them forever. Which I feel is what Patrick would have done with you had you not figured it out.”

“I don’t believe in love,” I stated, wrapping my arms around my legs. “There’s love for a family member—a child—but not for each other. No one cares that much and those who do always want something.”

“What a sad existence that must be.” Asher made a small sound in his throat, as though he might cry before his hand stroked my tousled hair. I forced myself not to flinch at his touch, reminding myself he had done so more intimately during the last few days.

My existence might be sad to Asher but it had kept me alive. I had loved my mother very much but she’d died leaving a huge hole in me. I loved my father as well but I knew eventually he too would die. If I became immortal—a vampire—then everyone I know, anyone I’d ever care about, would eventually die. No. Loving someone would never be in my cards. Not in this lifetime.