Cara stared at Anton, unable to believe what she'd heard, and then she laughed. "Vampires!" she exclaimed. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"They were drinking Bloody Mariahs."
"So what?"
"It's not a mixed drink. It's blood."
"That's ridiculous!"
"Is it? You never see them during the day, do you?"
"No," she admitted, wondering how he knew about that, "but it's because they have an adverse physical reaction to sunlight."
"I'll just bet they do! Don't you find it the least bit strange that they both have it?"
"I don't know. I never gave it much thought." She had grown up knowing her mother and father were different and even though she'd had questions from time to time, she had accepted whatever they told her as the truth. After all, they were parents; she trusted them.
"So, they sleep all day and only go out at night. Have you ever seen them eat anything? Drink a cup of coffee or a glass of water?"
"They were drinking tonight," she reminded him.
"They were drinking blood. You don't find that odd?"
"You don't know that it was blood."
"Yes, I do. I ordered a Bloody Mariah once, just to see what it was."
"But... there's no such thing as vampires. They're just myths, like werewolves and fairies." Even as she protested, Cara found herself wondering if he could be right. It would explain so many things that seemed unnatural now that he had remarked on them, things she had blindly accepted. She shook her head. It couldn't be true. And yet, why would Anton make up such an outlandish story? What could he possibly hope to gain?
Anton placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry, Cara, but I thought you ought to know. It isn't right for them to keep the truth from you." He gave her a sympathetic smile. "If you need anything, a shoulder to cry on, a place to stay, call me."
"Yes, I will, thank you," she said politely, her thoughts chasing themselves like a dog chasing its tail.
"There's no need for you to walk me to the door. Di Giorgio's here."
Feeling numb, she got out of the car, walked up the steps, unlocked the door, went inside, and closed the door behind her.
She stood there in the dark a moment, and then laughed humorlessly. If what Anton had said was true, she had been in the dark her whole life.
What if it was true? What if her mother and father were vampires?
But they weren't her real parents. And if they were vampires, why would they want a human child? What did they intend to do with her?
She lifted a hand to her throat, then shook her head. If they meant to use her for food or some other nefarious scheme, wouldn't they have done so by now?
Even as she told herself it was impossible, some inner voice whispered that everything Anton had said was true. It explained so many things. It explained everything.
She ran up to her room, turning on lights as she went. She felt betrayed. Her parents had lied to her.
Every answer they had ever given her to explain their strange lifestyle had been a lie. She blinked back her tears, saddened because she knew that she would never trust her mother or her father again.
Vampires! They drank blood from the living. They were dead but not dead. In movies, they were generally depicted as soulless monsters who killed indiscriminately to sustain their own existence, or else they were portrayed as humorous creatures, like George Hamilton in Lave at First Bite or Leslie Nielsen in Dracula, Dead and Loving It. She suspected the truth was somewhere between the two extremes, but it didn't matter.
She couldn't stay here any longer; she couldn't face them, not now. For the first time in her life, she was afraid of her parents, afraid to be alone with them.
She pulled a suitcase from her closet and tossed in the contents from her dresser drawers. She filled her overnight case with the items from her bathroom, then grabbed her suitcases, her handbag, and her keys and ran out of the house.
She had to get away before they got home from The Nocturne. If it turned out that Anton had lied to her,
that there really was a logical explanation for her parents' behavior and that they weren't vampires, well, then they could all have a good laugh about it later. But for now, she had to get away. She needed time alone, time to think, time to find out who she really was.
Roshan stood in the center of the living room. "She's not here."
"Maybe they went out for coffee," Brenna suggested hopefully.
"I don't think so." Roshan took the stairs to his daughter's bedroom two at a time. A single sweeping glance was all it took to tell him that she had packed her bags and left.
"But why?" Brenna asked when he told her the news. "Why would she leave? Where would she go?"
Her eyes widened. "You don't think she ran off with Bouchard?"
Roshan snorted softly. "If she was going to run away with anyone, it would be Cordova."
"We've got to find her."
Roshan paced the floor in front of the hearth. Cara had seen them at the club. She had come home, packed her bags, and left. Why? There had to be a connection. What was he missing? And where would she go?
He opened his senses, hoping he could detect her whereabouts, but he had never taken his daughter's blood. The only way to find her would be to go outside and follow her scent.
He kissed Brenna on the cheek. "I'll be back."
"Wait! I'm going with you."
"No, you stay here in case she changes her mind and comes home."
"You don't think anything's happened to her, do you?" Brenna asked anxiously.
"No. I'm going out to see if Di Giorgio's home, then I'm going to go look for her."
"All right. Hurry!"
It took only moments for Roshan to reach the house Di Giorgio occupied at the rear of the property.
The bodyguard answered the door on the first knock. "Mr. DeLongpre," he said, his brows rising in alarm. "Is something wrong?"
Roshan came right to the point. "Cara's gone."
"What?"
"You heard me. She packed her bags and left."
Di Giorgio swore. "I... I don't know what to say. I watched her go into the house. Saw the lights come on downstairs and then in her room. I didn't hear her car leave, so I assumed she was in for the night, and I went to take a shower. It's my fault, and I have no excuse, sir."
"It's all right, Frank. I'm going out to look for her."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"No. I'll call you if I need help."
"Very well, sir. Again, I'm sorry."
With a nod, Roshan vanished into the night.
It didn't take him long to find her scent. Though he was on foot and she was in her car, he had no trouble following her across the city to a hotel. He noted it was in a decent part of town.
Going inside, he stopped at the desk and asked what room his daughter was in.
"I'm sorry, sir, we don't have a listing for a Cara DeLongpre."
Roshan didn't argue. He left the hotel, dissolved into mist, and drifted up the stairs, his senses guiding him to Cara's room.
Taking on his own shape once again, he knocked on the door.
"Who's there?" Cara's voice, hesitant, suspicious.
"Your father."
He heard the click of the lock. A moment later, Cara stood in the doorway. A large silver crucifix dangled from a thick chain around her throat.
Roshan lifted one brow. Obviously, someone had already told her the truth. "May I come in?"
She stepped back, her fingers curling around the crucifix.
Roshan entered the room and closed the door behind him. The fear in his daughter's eyes cut him to his very soul. "Why have you done this?"
"You're a vampire, aren't you?"
He considered lying and dismissed the thought immediately. Right or wrong, he had been lying to her for years. It was time she knew the truth. "Yes." He gestured at the cross. "Do you really think you need that?"
"Better safe than sorry." She took a deep breath. "Is my... is Brenna one, too?"
"Yes."
Cara stared at him, tears welling in her eyes. He knew she had hoped he would deny it, that he could make everything right again.
"How did you find out?" he asked quietly.
"Anton told me. He said you were drinking blood at The Nocturne."
"And you believed him?"
"Where are my real parents? What happened to them? Did you...?"
"I want you to stop this nonsense and come home with me, now. Your mother is worried."
"She isn't my mother. She isn't even human."
"Cara..."
"Where's my real mother?"
"I don't know. We never knew anything about her, except that she was a teenager in trouble. She needed a home for her baby, and your mother wanted a child. We helped bring you into the world late one night, and then we brought you home. You've been our daughter since that night."
"All this time, you never told me."
"Should we have told you the truth?" he asked quietly. "Would you have believed it?"
"I don't know. How long have you been a vampire?" Cara stared at the man who had raised her. He looked the same as always-tall and dark and very handsome. His eyes weren't blood red. She couldn't see any fangs. His fingernails weren't long. He didn't smell like death.
"Over three hundred years."
"Three hundred years." She shook her head in disbelief. "And my... and Brenna?"
"Twenty-two years, give or take a few months."
Cara's eyes widened as she realized that her mother must have become a vampire the same year she herself was born.
"Did you make my... Brenna, a vampire?"
"Yes."
"Did she ask you to?"
"No, but she was dying, and I couldn't let her go. I was willing to live with her hatred rather than risk losing her." He took a deep breath. "Please come home with me."
"No. I need some time alone to sort this out."
Roshan nodded. He could take her home by force, bend her will to his, but there was nothing to be gained by such high-handed tactics except her hatred.
"Be careful, Cara. Call us if you need us." He hesitated, debating the wisdom of what he was about to say, but she needed to be warned. "Cordova is one of us."
Her eyes widened. "I don't believe you!"
"It's true nonetheless."
"I suppose you're going to tell me that Anton is a vampire, too?"
"No, I'm not sure what he is, but I don't trust him."
"You're just saying all that to scare me so I'll come home."
"I just want you to be careful. If Cordova comes to call, he can't enter unless you invite him inside. He has the power to hypnotize you with a look. You need to be aware of the danger you're in. Stay away from The Nocturne."
Still clasping the crucifix in one hand, she looked up at him, her expression one of hurt confusion. It broke his heart.
"Are you sure you won't change your mind and come home where you belong?"
"I'm sure," she said, but she wasn't sure at all. She no longer knew who to trust or what to believe.
He took a step toward her. She recoiled from his touch. It hurt worse than anything he had ever known.
"Good night, Princess."
The familiar endearment brought quick tears to her eyes. "Good night."
Cara watched her father leave the room, then she locked the door behind him.
He was a vampire. Her mother was a vampire. Vince was a vampire.
Had the world gone mad? How could she have lived with her parents for twenty-two years and never suspected? Now, looking back, it was so obvious. Why hadn't she seen it before? But, then, why would she? No one believed in vampires in this day and age. There were enough real monsters running around planting car bombs and molesting innocent children without looking for monsters of myth and legend.
She went to the window and looked out into the night, wondering what other monsters might be lurking in the shadows.
"Where is she?" Brenna asked anxiously. "What did she say? Is she coming home?"
"She's staying at a hotel over on Fourth Street. She said she needs time alone, to think."
"She knows, doesn't she? And now she hates us for lying to her?" Brenna paced the floor. "I knew we should have told her the truth years ago."
"We decided to wait, remember?"
"Yes, but now we've waited too long. What if she never comes back?"
Roshan drew his wife into his arms. "All we can do now is..." He started to say pray, but it had been years since he had done so. After all this time, he wasn't sure anyone would be listening. He blew out a breath. "She'll come around, in time."
Brenna looked up, her gaze searching his. "Are you sure of that?"
"Yes. She loves us. She knows deep inside that we love her. Once she gets over the shock, she'll realize nothing's really changed. In the meantime, Di Giorgio will be there. I got him a room at the hotel."
"I feel so helpless."
"I warned her to be careful, to stay away from The Nocturne. And I told her about Cordova."
"What did she say?!"
"She didn't believe me. I was afraid she wouldn't, but she had to be told. She needs to be aware of the danger she's in." Roshan rested his forehead against Brenna's. "There's something about Cordova..."
"What do you mean?"
"He's different."
Brenna tilted her head back so she could see her husband's face. "Different? What do you mean?
Different how?"
"He told me Mara brought him across."
"Mara?" Brenna frowned. "Isn't she the ancient vampire you told me about?"
Roshan nodded.
"I always thought she was just a myth."
"No, she's real enough, though few of us have ever seen her. It's said that in all her long life, she has made only a handful of vampires. Her blood is strong, potent. I could sense it in Cordova. He could be a powerful enemy."
"Or a powerful friend."
Roshan grunted softly. "Mara has powers that no other vampires possess. I wonder how many of them she passed on to Cordova."
It was a question that troubled Roshan far into the night.