Predatory (Immortal Guardians #3.5)(84)

“Now they’re even brighter,” she said, her eyes locking on his with fascination.

“You do that to me,” he admitted. “I’ve had a hell of a time hiding it from you.”

Swiveling to face him, she sat with her legs crossed and toyed with his fingers. “So . . . how old are you?”

He grimaced. “Two hundred and thirty.”

She shook her head. “I feel so stupid for making such a big deal out of being older than you.”

“Please don’t. I was the one who feared you would reject me if you knew my true age.”

She offered him a small smile. “I won’t lie. If you actually looked your age, I wouldn’t have given you a second glance.”

He laughed. “I don’t blame you.”

“How can you be so . . . ?”

“Old and young at the same time?”

She nodded. “And not be a vampire? I mean, the fangs . . .”

“I’m infected with a virus. A very rare symbiotic virus that behaves like no other on the planet. We don’t know where it originated. We know only that it first conquers, then replaces the immune system, lending those infected with it far greater strength, speed, and regenerative capabilities. It heightens our senses, causes extreme photosensitivity, and . . . we don’t age. Essentially, we are immortal, and call ourselves such.”

Jenna stared at him, her thoughts reeling. “A virus.”

“Yes, one that can only be transmitted through a bite.”

“Do you drink blood?”

“I do require frequent infusions of blood. The virus depletes my body’s supply as it repairs damage. But I don’t drink it. During my transformation, I grew a pair of retractable fangs that function like IV needles. When I bite into a blood bag, my fangs siphon the blood directly into my veins.”

“Do you ever bite people?”

“We all did before we were able to collect and store blood donations in our own blood banks. But we never frightened or killed the donors.” He grimaced. “Well, not unless they were fiends who preyed upon the innocent.”

“So you’re an immortal, not a vampire.”

“Yes.”

“But Sheldon mentioned a vampire king, so vampires do exist.”

“Yes. I was different from other humans even before I was infected, as were my brother and sister and all of our immortal brethren. We called ourselves gifted ones. We didn’t know it then and still don’t know why, but our DNA is more advanced—a great deal more advanced—than that of ordinary humans.” He shrugged. “It’s why I can teleport.”

“That isn’t a result of the virus?”

“No. I could teleport as a child. My brother and sister are both telepathic. Some can heal with their hands. Others can move things with their minds. The eldest of us can do far more.” He toyed with her hand. “As you said, vampires do exist. They are ordinary humans who have been infected with the same virus. They lack our special abilities and, without the protection our advanced DNA affords us, suffer progressive brain damage that causes a rapid descent into madness. They prey upon humans, inflicting upon their victims every monstrous impulse.”

“How have I never heard of this?” she asked in disbelief. “How have none of us ever heard of this?”

“Immortals hunt vampires and destroy them. It’s what we do, every night, to eradicate the threat and to prevent the public from learning of our existence and theirs.”

“But, why don’t the vampires’ victims report it?”

“They have no memory of the attacks.”

“You erase their memories?”

“No. Small glands above our fangs—and the fangs of vampires—release a chemical that behaves much like GHB under the pressure of a bite. If the victim lives, he or she will have no memory of what happened.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time believing that.”

He looked away. “Do you remember the first night we met, Jenna?”

“Yes. You came into the store and asked me where to find Krazy Glue.”

When next he met her gaze, his eyes had returned to their usual brown. “That wasn’t the first night we met.”

“What do you mean?”

“A few weeks before that, I was hunting in the area—”

“Hunting vampires.”

“Yes. And found . . . you. You must have just come off your shift. Four vampires had swept you behind the building and cornered you.”

Her blood went cold. “What?”

“You fought and pepper-sprayed one, but were bitten by another before I could wrest you from him.”

Horror filled her. Somehow this revelation was worse than anything that had come before it. She had been attacked? By vampires? And had no memory of it? “That isn’t possible.”

“There was a night, was there not, a few weeks before we met in which you couldn’t remember leaving work the night before, driving home, or putting yourself to bed?”

Oh, crap. There had been. She had awoken in her bed, still wearing her work clothes, and hadn’t been able to remember how she had gotten there. It had all been a blank. She had ultimately chalked it up to exhaustion.

“I was attacked by vampires?”