“No shit.” He frowned, remembering Elowynne telling him she had taken his blood and given him some of hers. But where had the dirt come from? He sure as hell didn’t eat it, he thought. Or had he? When he was mortal, she could have willed him to do anything she wanted.
“What does any of this have to do with Saintcrow’s lack of control and attacks of violence?” Kincaid asked.
“I believe the combination of foreign vampire blood, witch blood, ancient earth, and dark magic is the cause of Saintcrow’s ailment,” Alara said.
“Wait a minute,” Saintcrow said. “You’re telling me that I’ve been carrying that dirt and blood around for close to a thousand years and all of a sudden it’s playing havoc with my life and my future? How is that even possible?” Again, it occurred to him that when he was human, Elowynne could have put him under some witchy enchantment and forced him to eat or drink anything she wanted. Damn.
“I have no idea of the how,” Alara admitted, with a shrug. “Or the why. I could be wrong. But I doubt it.”
Saintcrow raked his fingers through his hair. “So, you think Elowynne gave me her blood, then magicked some kind of delayed reaction spell into the dirt on the off-chance she might have need of it someday?”
He stared into the distance, trying to piece the puzzle together. Elowynne had given him her blood and taken his when he was still human, creating a blood bond between them, a bond that had been broken when Eleni turned him. But whatever spell Elowynne had concocted had apparently survived. Unbelievable, he thought. But, hell, what if it was true? Even if it was, it didn’t explain why she had done it, or what she had hoped to gain. Or why she had waited so long to activate the curse or spell or whatever the hell was in that dirt. Always assuming she was behind it.
“So, how do we fix the problem?” Kincaid asked.
Alara smoothed her hand over her skirt. “I am still working on that.”
“Canyou fix it?” Saintcrow asked.
“I won’t know until I try,” Alara replied calmly. “I will contact you if and when I succeed.”
“You do that.” Rising, Saintcrow started for the door.
“Before you go, I need a little more of your blood,” the witch said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Saintcrow muttered irritably, and bit into his wrist.
~ * ~
“Well, at least now we’re reasonably sure we know who’s behind your problem,” Kincaid remarked as they left the treehouse and materialized in the hotel bar in Morgan Creek.
“Fat lot of good it does me,” Saintcrow growled as he filled two crystal goblets with wine and passed one to Jake. “None of this makes a damn bit of sense. I don’t understand why Elowynne did it. I can’t believe it’s because I never took her to bed. Or because I’m more powerful than she is....neither of those reasons strike me as a motive for revenge. We have to be missing something, but I don’t know what the devil it could be.” He lifted his glass and drained it in a single swallow. “Oh, hell, maybe she just wanted to drive me crazy trying to figure it out.”
“What if we drained your blood and replaced it with the blood of the ancients, like Oriana’s? Maybe clean, fresh blood would wash the poisoned stuff away?”
Saintcrow stared at him. “Are you crazy? I’d be a fledgling again.”
“Maybe not. Hell, even if you were, it might be worth it. With the blood of the ancients, you’d still be strong, just notasstrong.”
Saintcrow considered it for a full five minutes then shook his head as he refilled his glass. “I don’t know. I’d be vulnerable, helpless, during the blood exchange. And weak for a few days afterwards.”
“You don’t trust your old friends?”
“Only you, Jake.” Vampires envied power. Some craved it so badly they were willing to do anything to gather more, which was why so many turned into wanton killers. The lust for power had driven many of his kind to do unspeakable things. He had done a few things back in the beginning that shamed him now.
“Oh, well,” Kincaid said. “It was just a thought.”
“Maybe as a last resort,” Saintcrow said, as he swirled the dark red liquid in his glass. “Maybe if I get desperate enough.”
~ * ~
“Maybe it would work,” Kadie said when he told her what Kincaid had suggested. “I think you should try it.”
“No way. It would leave me vulnerable to my enemies and when it was over, I’d be weak for a day or two. No.” He had been a master vampire too long to relinquish his power now. It was an integral part of him, so much so that he wasn’t sure he could survive without it, or that he’d want to. It was true that an infusion of ancient blood might work. It would likely make him stronger than the average fledgling and it might eventually restore his full power. Then again, it might not. And he didn’t want to live without it. Closing his eyes, he gathered his power around him, feeling it infuse every cell of his body, filling him with a sense of invincibility as he flexed his preternatural muscles.
Kadie gasped as a wave of supernatural power slammed into her, knocking her off the sofa and onto the floor. “Rylan, stop!” When he didn’t react, she tugged on his arm, and then she reached up and slapped him as hard as she could.
His eyes snapped open. “What the hell did you do that for?”