prettiest drives in Mexico, but I want you to tear your eyes
away from the majesty and write down some of the things we’ve talked about
already or shelved for later. I’m losing track,” Oliver said.
So far, the road was just a flat incline cutting through a
landscape of scrubby bushes and rocks dotted with trees. The driving was easy
and Oliver figured this was a good time to talk through the things they’d
skimped on last night. The guidebook had also said the road would start to
twist and turn as it sliced through the mountain and down the other side.
Neither one of them would want to talk much then.
“One of the things we skipped last night was how vampires
and hunters locate their prey,” Miranda said. “I never hunted and never went
with a vampire when they did, so I can only tell you what I read in the Vladula
history books and what I gathered from the few conversations I heard about
stuff like that.”
She sat with her bare feet on the dash again, having shed
her socks and shoes despite Oliver’s protests. The notebook he’d bought lay in
her lap, a pen stuck to the front cover.
“Whatever you know, or think you
know, is fine,” Oliver said, winking at her.
She chuckled. “I think I don’t know a lot. But most of the
Vladula vamps seemed to prefer feeding on people no one would miss, the
homeless mostly. In Chicago, this wasn’t a problem. I remember one of them
talking about a new “hunting ground”, a bad part of town where gangs were going
crazy, shooting people in the streets. The people who had to live there were
scared to death. You might have seen stories about it on the news. Anyway,
people wanted it to stop, but they were too scared to tell the cops who was
doing all the killing. So, Spike Vladula bragged that he’d read a few minds,
figured out who the assholes were and took them out. At the time, I thought
that was pretty cool.”
“But, as far as you know, vampires don’t sense something
special in a person that draws them to a victim?”
She shook her head and propped her chin on her bent knees.
“Nope, other than the ones who can read minds. They always scan to make sure
the food doesn’t have attachments to anyone.”
“The food?” Oliver asked, with a sideways glance.
“That’s what a lot of vamps call people. It depersonalizes
them, and some vamps still care about stuff like that.”
“But not all?”
“No. Remember how I told you that some of them had started
killing anyone they wanted? Like Cire Vladula. She liked to hunt in clubs and
said the meat was fresher there.” Miranda wrinkled her nose.
“And no one stepped in to stop her? Wasn’t that sort of
behavior dangerous for everyone in the family?”
“Totally. Sage talked to her, told her to stop, but I don’t
think she had. She seemed high on the power it gave her. That’s why I was sort
of surprised when Sage and the rest of them made such a big stink about you
killing Cire. In a way, you did us all a favor.”
Oliver frowned. Again, they’d hit on something that didn’t
make sense. “Maybe Cire was disposable. A means to an end.”
“Like a trap for you, you mean?”
“And you. Did you question it much when the family sent you
out to hunt me down?”
Miranda shook her head. “No. I just went where they told me
to go.”
“And would have killed me if you could have gotten me away
from people.” Oliver wasn’t angry with her for it. He’d have done the same
thing had the situation not unfolded exactly the way it had.
She nodded, laying her hand on his arm. “I’m glad I didn’t.”
“I don’t think you had much choice. Jonathan took me to
Jaded on purpose. He said it was because you wouldn’t come after us there. They
gave us time to connect there, in the coffee shop, at the hotel, and on the
plane.”
“Maybe.” She frowned.
The road had started twisting and turning. In spots it had
been washed out. Pebbles and sand flowed down steep hills in streams that had
already