Ruvan strokes his chin and murmurs, “That explains some things the vampire lords have been wondering about the hunters. They have always been trained far better than we expect for encountering vampir only once every five hundred years. When I found out that they were using blood lore, I thought that explained it solely. But this is far more plausible.”
“Whatisthe blood lore?” I’m finally curious enough to outright ask. “I understand it involves blood and magic. But how does it work?”
“I’m not sure if a human could understand.”
“Try me.” I shift to face him.
He appraises me and I must, somehow, measure up. “All right. As I told you before, all blood—all life—holds magic within it. Blood tells the story of a person, their strengths and weaknesses, their lineage, the sum of their experiences. Even their future is all marked on the blood.”
“You can…see someone’s experience?” I ask cautiously. “Their future?”
“Yes. But like all blood lore, it requires talent and the right tools to do.” A smirk slides across his lips, mouth tugged slightly open at one corner, his fang wicked and gleaming. “A vampir can steal a form. What makes you think we can’t also steal a thought, if we wanted?”
“The blood lore sounds horrific.” Invasive. Intrusive. And yet…I’m deeply curious.
“You might feel that way, but thousands in Midscape didn’t.” Ruvan looks out over the mountaintops, his voice becoming wistful. “They would come from far and wide for our monthly moon festivals. When our power was at its strongest, we could read the futures of kings.”
“Only kings?”
“Anyone who offered their blood.”
I consider this a moment. “If vampires can see the future, then how didn’t they know they would be cursed?”
“Maybe someone did and they misunderstood their vision. Vampir do not get a complete picture. We can only see specifically what the asker demands of us. So it’s possible that no one saw it coming—no one thought to ask.”
“Did you look into the future before we ventured down here? Is that how Callos knew the way?” I ask.
“No…the curse has obscured and stinted many of our abilities,” he says curtly, avoiding my gaze as if in shame.
It makes me wonder just how powerful blood lore is. So I ask, “What else can the blood lore do?”
“Some can identify truth from lie. Others can glean insight into a person’s true nature. We were revered and respected for all our insights into things that had not yet come to pass and the true nature of individuals.”
“The hunters can do nothing like this.”
“How canyoube so sure?” His gaze begins to harden. “Just how didyouget the blood lore on the night of the full moon?”
“What?” Insecurity makes the word rattle in my mouth.
He grips my arm, just above my elbow. “If I had not granted you my power earlier, you would’ve died fighting the Succumbed.”
I try and pull away, unable to deny it thanks to the blood lore, but he holds fast.
“It was clever, I grant you. Allowing me to think you’re a hunter so you could secure your place here—protect yourself from the withering by becoming my bloodsworn. But I’ve shown you my true face. I think it’s time you showed me yours.” He leans forward and my world narrows to him alone.
“How much can you really know?” I boldly ask, dancing with my words. “You didn’t even know those monsters were hunting us every full moon.”
“Monsters?” he echoes with indignation. “Show some respect. Despite what they are now, they were once my kin, my forefathers, the men and women I should have served were it not for your hunter’s curse turning them into what they are. Some of them were alive when I went into my slumber and I woke to find them mindless enemies.
“You think Iwantto see my people cut down? Left out to burn in the sun without the decency of a proper burial? You think I would’ve let them wander into your world like cattle for slaughter if I’d known?”
Heart pounding, I am captive in his hold. Helpless to do anything but stare in fear and awe at the pain overflowing from him. He feels so deeply. Deeper than I’ve ever even allowed myself to feel.
“Enough, Ruvan,” Ventos calls over. “You’re wasting your breath. You’ll never get a human, and especially not a hunter, to sympathize with our plight.”
Yet that’s what he’s been trying to do. Keeps trying to do. Ruvan’s eyes don’t leave mine. I can feel him searching. Begging for something that I can’t give. His magic brushes against me with feather-light invisible touches. It envelops me.
“He’s right, a hunter would never sympathize with you,” I say softly, trying to keep my focus straight with him staying so close. The words lack their usual bite. I can’t put force behind them, even if I wanted to. And maybe, terrifyingly, I don’t want to anymore. I can’t say all the harsh and scathing things I want to because the bond won’t let me…which means they’re no longer true.
