decade ago. But for centuries now, Lihter had been gathering like-minded werens around him, setting them to various tasks aimed at only one goal: the creation of a new hybrid.
It wasn’t easy work. Lihter had spent years researching ancient texts, trying to learn how a hybrid was made. He’d found only one clue, a transcript of a story handed down within a family. A vampire warrior in the third century who’d come upon a woman who begged the warrior to kill her.
As the warrior recounted the story, he’d refused at first. But then the woman had threatened to bring out the wolf right there in the middle of the Roman forum. And so he said he would do it. But first she had to answer one simple question:
How?
How had she come to be?
But the woman didn’t know. She’d been a vampire, and one night she met a werewolf prowling deep within a forest. They’d fought, and she’d somehow lost her senses. She remembered torture and pain. And when she came back fully to herself, she knew that she’d fallen under the curse, and that what she’d once believed was only rumor was alive within her. She had no explanation as to how, and assumed it must have come about by dark magic.
She could tell the warrior nothing more, and he had honored his promise. Right then, right there, he drove a stake through her heart, then lopped off her head.
At the time he’d discovered the document, Lihter wished the warrior had asked for a few more details.And hoping that maybe the warrior had in fact learned the secret but had recounted the truth elsewhere, he began a systematic search for every document authored by the vampire warrior.
The process was long and tedious, but he knew he would succeed. Lihter had both confidence and patience, and he’d begun building this facility even before he had the first clue about how to create a hybrid.
His confidence and preparation had paid off. About eleven months ago, his research had taken a most extraordinary turn. He’d been perusing the collection of a small library in Peru when he had run across one particularly interesting tidbit: He was not the only one following the trail of hybrids.
There was another.
Another researcher was reviewing the same books. Another scholar was following the same leads.
Lihter had shifted his plan. He stopped searching for the warrior and instead began to look for the researcher.
That hadn’t taken long. The researcher had taken some pains to hide his identity, but not many. After only a few inquiries and bribes, Lihter was able to obtain a name: Cyrus Reinholt.
And as luck would have it, Reinholt happened to be a werewolf. A werewolf who lived in Paris and was a frequent guest at the château.
Truly the stars were aligning in Lihter’s favor.
His plan had been simple. Fabricate a security breach and bring all of the werens with château access in front of a Truth Teller. But apparently Reinholt got wind of the plan and ran.
It had been most inconvenient. At least until Lihterhad learned that Reinholt had a daughter. And children meant leverage.
He’d arranged to kidnap the bitch. A straightforward, simple arrangement that had turned out to be not so simple after all. Because during the course of the abduction, she’d been injured, and her blood had destroyed one of his men.
Acid blood
.
The hallmark of a hybrid.
Everything had fallen into place—Reinholt had found the answer in the research, and he’d made a hybrid of his own daughter. A horrible thing for a father to do, really, and Lihter felt no guilt about taking her away from such a worthless excuse of a parent.
But the girl was his now. His years of researching had been fascinating, to be sure. And he would still very much love to have Reinholt’s secrets at his disposal.
None of that, however, was critical anymore.
The girl was his weapon.
And he intended to use her well.
And soon.
The thunder of footsteps stopped outside the heavy steel door, and he heard the steady
beep beep
of the
It wasn’t easy work. Lihter had spent years researching ancient texts, trying to learn how a hybrid was made. He’d found only one clue, a transcript of a story handed down within a family. A vampire warrior in the third century who’d come upon a woman who begged the warrior to kill her.
As the warrior recounted the story, he’d refused at first. But then the woman had threatened to bring out the wolf right there in the middle of the Roman forum. And so he said he would do it. But first she had to answer one simple question:
How?
How had she come to be?
But the woman didn’t know. She’d been a vampire, and one night she met a werewolf prowling deep within a forest. They’d fought, and she’d somehow lost her senses. She remembered torture and pain. And when she came back fully to herself, she knew that she’d fallen under the curse, and that what she’d once believed was only rumor was alive within her. She had no explanation as to how, and assumed it must have come about by dark magic.
She could tell the warrior nothing more, and he had honored his promise. Right then, right there, he drove a stake through her heart, then lopped off her head.
At the time he’d discovered the document, Lihter wished the warrior had asked for a few more details.And hoping that maybe the warrior had in fact learned the secret but had recounted the truth elsewhere, he began a systematic search for every document authored by the vampire warrior.
The process was long and tedious, but he knew he would succeed. Lihter had both confidence and patience, and he’d begun building this facility even before he had the first clue about how to create a hybrid.
His confidence and preparation had paid off. About eleven months ago, his research had taken a most extraordinary turn. He’d been perusing the collection of a small library in Peru when he had run across one particularly interesting tidbit: He was not the only one following the trail of hybrids.
There was another.
Another researcher was reviewing the same books. Another scholar was following the same leads.
Lihter had shifted his plan. He stopped searching for the warrior and instead began to look for the researcher.
That hadn’t taken long. The researcher had taken some pains to hide his identity, but not many. After only a few inquiries and bribes, Lihter was able to obtain a name: Cyrus Reinholt.
And as luck would have it, Reinholt happened to be a werewolf. A werewolf who lived in Paris and was a frequent guest at the château.
Truly the stars were aligning in Lihter’s favor.
His plan had been simple. Fabricate a security breach and bring all of the werens with château access in front of a Truth Teller. But apparently Reinholt got wind of the plan and ran.
It had been most inconvenient. At least until Lihterhad learned that Reinholt had a daughter. And children meant leverage.
He’d arranged to kidnap the bitch. A straightforward, simple arrangement that had turned out to be not so simple after all. Because during the course of the abduction, she’d been injured, and her blood had destroyed one of his men.
Acid blood
.
The hallmark of a hybrid.
Everything had fallen into place—Reinholt had found the answer in the research, and he’d made a hybrid of his own daughter. A horrible thing for a father to do, really, and Lihter felt no guilt about taking her away from such a worthless excuse of a parent.
But the girl was his now. His years of researching had been fascinating, to be sure. And he would still very much love to have Reinholt’s secrets at his disposal.
None of that, however, was critical anymore.
The girl was his weapon.
And he intended to use her well.
And soon.
The thunder of footsteps stopped outside the heavy steel door, and he heard the steady
beep beep
of the