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Vernelle
I’D FINISHED THE LAST bottle of blood Alessandra had left for me, and now I was craving more. I needed more.
I pounded on the door, frustrated that it was locked and there was no way of getting out of this awful room. I was so tired of staring at these same four walls for the past few hours.
Even through the anger and thirst I felt, I was more confused than anything else.
Alessandra told me the blood she’d left for me would be enough to get me through three or four days, but it had only been hours since she’d left.
Why was I still so thirsty?
What was wrong with me?
There was only one answer that seemed to come to mind. I was pretty sure that blood would have been enough to last me for three or four days only if I was a human who she had turned into a vampire.
There was the catch. The problem that was throwing everything off.
I wasn’t human.
Not entirely, at least.
My grandfather had been a Seeker. I was pretty sure that was the only reason I’d ended up in Deadwood in the first place. I wasn’t entirely sure of why I was here or who had brought me, but I was convinced that whoever had brought me had known my grandfather and wanted to seek revenge on my family.
In any case, it meant I wasn’t purely human the way Alessandra believed I was. Even though both human and vampire blood ran through my veins, Seeker blood did, too.
I wasn’t certain, but I was pretty sure there was a good chance I was the first with Seeker blood in history to have ever been turned into a vampire.
What happened when someone who was part Seeker became a vampire?
If the anger and rage—and the thirst, the everlasting thirst—I felt was any indication of what happened, I had one guess.
And my guess was that, whatever happened, it wasn’t good.