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“You care about him.”
“Of course I do.”
“Even though he’s a dhampyr.” He made the word sound more like an accusation than an observation.
I looked at the dhampyr in question. He had his eyebrow slightly raised, his gaze on me, as if waiting for my reply. “I’d be dead if it wasn’t for Declan.”
Not the most romantic of declarations, sure. But it was still true.
Dr. Reynolds pursed his lips. “I met my wife four years ago after I’d decided to accept my confirmed bachelor status. My days were spent with test tubes and chemical formulas. Parachemistry, para-science, it’s an obsession for me. Always has been. But Clara . . . she made me see that there was more to life.” His voice caught. Lawrence moved toward him and squeezed his shoulder.
I swallowed hard. Seeing other people in pain affected me. “She sounds like she was an amazing woman. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“So am I.”
“You said a dhampyr killed her.”
“Yes.” His jaw tightened.
I shivered. “I—I haven’t seen too many monster dhampyrs, but the ones I have seen have been scary as hell. It must have been horrible for you, but I’m sure there was nothing you could have done to save her.”
He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re wrong.”
I was confused. I looked at Lawrence, whose gray eyes flicked to me.
“It wasn’t a monster dhampyr,” he said.
I was surprised. “It wasn’t?”
“Lawrence . . .” Dr. Reynolds began.
Lawrence hissed out a breath. “It’s time you faced this once and for all, as we discussed. Maybe then you can finally move on.”
“I could say the same to you.”
“You lost Clara two years ago. It’s only been six months for me.”
“It’s different.”
I watched them warily. Declan stood like a statue beside me, his hands clasped behind his back like a soldier at ease.
“No, it’s so similar I’m surprised you can’t see it.” Lawrence wrung his hands and looked at me. “My wife is human—a human married to a vampire. Victor’s wife—she was a vampire.”
My mouth fell open. “A vampire?”
Reynolds put his glasses back on. His face was still. It looked as if he’d managed to put a lid on his grief for the moment. “She was already a vampire when I met her. It was difficult for her sometimes to control her hungers, but she maintained herself with class and dignity. Right up until she was murdered.”
“Murdered by a dhampyr,” I said.
“Yes.” Dr. Reynolds’s expression had rapidly turned from raw emotion to absolute ice. “The very dhampyr who stands with us in this room.”
Shock slammed into me by the cold, blunt statement. My gaze shot to Declan. He watched Dr. Reynolds carefully, no outward reaction showing at this accusation.
“You’re saying that I killed your wife,” he said.
“Yes.” The word was a hiss.
I felt the tension in the room rise to a sickening level. I waited for Declan to deny it, to say it was impossible that he’d killed Dr. Reynolds’s wife.
