Instead, he dodged around it, as if trying to avoid his own motivations.
“I have gained much knowledge these past hours,” he said softly. “Except in regard to determining the Underground’s location.” He paused. “These vampires are all but undetectable while hiding below the earth. Most are.”
Dawn recalled how he’d looked like a warrior mentally preparing for battle while kneeling before that crucifix. “Were you meditating for answers?”
“I suppose that is close enough to what I was doing, yes.”
“Or maybe a higher power laid out your strategies for you.” She was kidding . . . sort of. The crucifix wouldn’t leave her mind.
“I’m fairly certain the Underground is waiting for me to come to them—when I find where they are.” He made a sound that resembled a laugh in form, but it didn’t contain any humor whatsoever. In fact, it sounded more like a choke. “Or perhaps I’m only waiting for enough courage to carry out what I have decided must be done.”
The naked admission surprised Dawn. She’d always perceived Jonah to be more powerful than anyone. Kiko had even hinted as much. But hearing confirmation that it might not be true scared her, made her realize how wrong she had been—and could be—about so many things.
“I’d like to say you’re going to do just fine,” she said, “but I don’t know enough about you to be sure.”
A shifting in his corner alerted her skin. Her flesh felt like a roll of flame.
“You know more about me now than you did when the sun first rose today.”
Jonah’s voice had taken on its usual ragged undertone, etched with that scratch of an accent. But what kind of accent? she thought. Had he smoothed out the influence of his homeland—the place she’d seen in Kiko’s dagger vision?
“I suppose I do know more now,” she said, “but I’m not going to apologize for snooping.”
“Tell me, what did you and Kiko see in the weapons room?”
He didn’t sound angry, as she would’ve expected, just . . . curious. And a little sad.
So she described everything to him: the dagger; the bound and mutilated man; the wild-eyed leader who’d taken the human seer and turned him into a monster.
“A monster,” he repeated after she’d finished, his tone analytical.
“How else should I describe what the seer became?” Her stomach was roiling at the memory of blood, warm and thick on the seer’s face, in his mouth.
“No, ‘monster’ is more than sufficient.” Something dark—a hunter’s hatred?—crept into his voice.
Had this seer done something to cause such venom?
“You’re the only one who probably knows who the seer was,” she said, hoping to ease the way open for him to spill everything. “And you know who that leader guy was, too.”
“I do know.”
She waited and, when he didn’t continue, chuffed. At least he was consistent, even when he was disappointing her.
“Dawn, you seem to forget how much you hate when Kiko or I or anyone else tries to get into your head. You don’t like your memories to be riffled through. You consider it an invasion. Why shouldn’t I feel the same?”
His words made so much sense that shame made her bow her head, her hair blocking her face from his view. She hid behind the strands, grateful they were unfettered just this one time.
Hadn’t she always despised starlets and Hollywood brats because they thought they were the center of the universe? When had she started thinking of herself the same way? When had she become just as entitled?
Jonah saved her from herself. “I do regret that we never had the opportunity to train in more than mind blocking.”
He was referring to her obvious emerging talent for . . . What was it—telekinesis?
“I know,” he said, “that you have made a habit of blocking people your entire life. The talent was always there, but . . . did you ever notice a propensity for striking out, as well?”
She hadn’t wanted to remember, but now that Jonah was
“I have gained much knowledge these past hours,” he said softly. “Except in regard to determining the Underground’s location.” He paused. “These vampires are all but undetectable while hiding below the earth. Most are.”
Dawn recalled how he’d looked like a warrior mentally preparing for battle while kneeling before that crucifix. “Were you meditating for answers?”
“I suppose that is close enough to what I was doing, yes.”
“Or maybe a higher power laid out your strategies for you.” She was kidding . . . sort of. The crucifix wouldn’t leave her mind.
“I’m fairly certain the Underground is waiting for me to come to them—when I find where they are.” He made a sound that resembled a laugh in form, but it didn’t contain any humor whatsoever. In fact, it sounded more like a choke. “Or perhaps I’m only waiting for enough courage to carry out what I have decided must be done.”
The naked admission surprised Dawn. She’d always perceived Jonah to be more powerful than anyone. Kiko had even hinted as much. But hearing confirmation that it might not be true scared her, made her realize how wrong she had been—and could be—about so many things.
“I’d like to say you’re going to do just fine,” she said, “but I don’t know enough about you to be sure.”
A shifting in his corner alerted her skin. Her flesh felt like a roll of flame.
“You know more about me now than you did when the sun first rose today.”
Jonah’s voice had taken on its usual ragged undertone, etched with that scratch of an accent. But what kind of accent? she thought. Had he smoothed out the influence of his homeland—the place she’d seen in Kiko’s dagger vision?
“I suppose I do know more now,” she said, “but I’m not going to apologize for snooping.”
“Tell me, what did you and Kiko see in the weapons room?”
He didn’t sound angry, as she would’ve expected, just . . . curious. And a little sad.
So she described everything to him: the dagger; the bound and mutilated man; the wild-eyed leader who’d taken the human seer and turned him into a monster.
“A monster,” he repeated after she’d finished, his tone analytical.
“How else should I describe what the seer became?” Her stomach was roiling at the memory of blood, warm and thick on the seer’s face, in his mouth.
“No, ‘monster’ is more than sufficient.” Something dark—a hunter’s hatred?—crept into his voice.
Had this seer done something to cause such venom?
“You’re the only one who probably knows who the seer was,” she said, hoping to ease the way open for him to spill everything. “And you know who that leader guy was, too.”
“I do know.”
She waited and, when he didn’t continue, chuffed. At least he was consistent, even when he was disappointing her.
“Dawn, you seem to forget how much you hate when Kiko or I or anyone else tries to get into your head. You don’t like your memories to be riffled through. You consider it an invasion. Why shouldn’t I feel the same?”
His words made so much sense that shame made her bow her head, her hair blocking her face from his view. She hid behind the strands, grateful they were unfettered just this one time.
Hadn’t she always despised starlets and Hollywood brats because they thought they were the center of the universe? When had she started thinking of herself the same way? When had she become just as entitled?
Jonah saved her from herself. “I do regret that we never had the opportunity to train in more than mind blocking.”
He was referring to her obvious emerging talent for . . . What was it—telekinesis?
“I know,” he said, “that you have made a habit of blocking people your entire life. The talent was always there, but . . . did you ever notice a propensity for striking out, as well?”
She hadn’t wanted to remember, but now that Jonah was
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