Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(48)
“You’re a bad speller.”
His cool fa?ade evaporated. “In what way?”
I laughed and turned sideways so I wouldn’t accidentally look him in the eye again. “I’ll try to be discreet about it,” I said with derision. “Your bad spelling not only helped me link several black market auctions, but it also revealed where you were getting your women. I found that site by accident and might have kept looking had your post not been one of the top messages on the front page. With the same word misspelled. Not so discreet, huh?”
I heard a shaky sigh come from his side of the glass. Clearly he was displeased with his glaring mistake. It made me want to find his button and push it.
“That’s okay, Harry. Not everyone’s the brightest crayon in the box.”
“It’s Houdini.”
I kept my hands beneath the table while I struggled to pull off the bracelet. It was too damn small, and despite how narrow it was, I couldn’t bend it for anything.
“So this is where you brought all those innocent women?”
“Innocence is an illusion. Each woman I select chooses to be here. If their interest in our world didn’t matter to me, don’t you think it would be easier for me to just steal a woman off the street? You can’t fault me for something that was their decision. No one ever knows what the result of their choices will be, but I’ve never brought anyone here against their will.”
I kicked the glass wall from beneath the table. “You clearly kept them against their will.”
“I’ve bettered their lives.”
“By turning them into bloodslaves? Bravo. You’re such a hero.”
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “I’ve given them immortality. So few of us enter this world truly knowing what lies in store for us. No one has a red carpet rolled out for them—not even those chosen by the Mageri or Vampire elders are better off. In fact, they’re put under more scrutiny than the rest, and if they don’t make the cut, they get put down like a lame horse. How you’re brought into a circumstance isn’t as important as what you do with your life afterward. And yes, Raven, we always have a choice. You can either choose to be a victim or choose to take control. Not one of those women had family or friends who would miss them. They had nothing to live for. I’ve given them all a chance at something more.”
“As their maker, don’t you have any sense of loyalty? All those women you turned have your blood in them. They’re your younglings. You don’t feel any obligation to care for them and protect them?”
Houdini rose to his feet and disappeared into the shadows of his living room. “You seem to have a personal stake in this. I create… and I release. The world will teach them all they need to know and decide if they are worthy enough to live in it. Immortality is the greatest experiment known to mankind, and I’m more than happy to give the gift of life.”
“Well, bless your heart.”
“Buyers don’t want to turn them. They say it’s because they don’t want anything that could connect them to the youngling should they be caught. But I think they’re afraid they’ll grow a conscience.”
“Yes. We mustn’t actually care for the people we feed on.”
“You assume all requests are nefarious. Not true. Vampires are lonely creatures, and not all of them have the strength or experience to turn another. Some merely want companions.”
I rubbed my forehead. “Forgive me if I don’t clap.”
Houdini reappeared at the glass wall and leaned his shoulder against it. “Do you hate the cattle farmer for auctioning his cows? He doesn’t know if the buyer will slaughter them, trade them, milk them, or set them to pasture. He cares about making a living.”
I continued staring at the floor. “I forget that I’m arguing with a slave trader. You probably think having great black leaders, inventors, artists, and entrepreneurs justifies the sin of slavery.”
“Humans are idiots. They enslave people because of their skin color or religion.”
“And Shifters? They were once slaves.”
“That was a necessity.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
“You should do your homework. Long before recorded history, Shifters were savages. They lived in the wild, hunted, and had no desire to connect with the world outside their own. They killed for land and acquired a lot of it. Some of them lived in animal form most of the time, losing all sense of their humanity. It didn’t take much back then to stir up fear, and people didn’t like how fast they were breeding. Some were slaughtered. Entire generations… gone. The lucky ones were taken alive, and a mass effort rose to contain the risk of them overpopulating. It was a numbers game. Didn’t anyone teach you that?”
“I skipped history class so I could learn survival skills.”
He turned toward me. “Anyhow, Shifter trading was the norm in a time when man was still a savage himself. Some used them as warriors, others in profitable fighting rings. But don’t think they all had it bad. Many wealthy immortals took them into their homes as guard dogs, servants, spies, or a trusted team of horses.”
I laughed. “Are you kidding me? Do you think that’s why people make slaves—to help them? No. They do it to help themselves. Otherwise you wouldn’t be asking for money. You’d be making immortals and giving them to loving homes out of the goodness of your heart.”