Page 17 of Dhampira

“I’m glad it worked,” he said.

Something in his tone made me touch my neck again. “Were you worried it wouldn’t?”

He gave his sword a considering look. “It’s been a while since the blade fed. I thought it might be…overzealous.”

I pressed my palm over my throat, indignation heating my cheeks. “You could have mentioned that.”

“It’s harder to stay still when you’re nervous, and you were already anxious enough.” He flicked the blade. “Now, hold out your wrists. This will be a lot easier.”

He was right, and I barely felt it as the sword devoured the manacles, leaving the tufts of rabbit fur and leather to drop to the moss. Afterward, Vander produced fruit and strips of dried meat from his saddlebag, and he seated me on a rock and instructed me to eat while he made camp.

But his version of making camp didn’t involve setting up tents or building a fire. Instead, he walked a circle around the clearing, a chunk of cloudy white rock in one hand and a shiny dagger in the other. He scraped the dagger against the rock as he went, shedding a trail of stones that plopped onto the moss. He moved quietly for such a big man, his boots almost soundless as he walked another circle. When he passed Maddox, the horse whinnied softly. More chalky stones dropped to the ground.

“What is that?” I asked, my feet drawn up and tucked under my nightgown. A full moon peeked between the trees, and chilly air drifted through the clearing.

“Crystal.”

I waited for him to elaborate.

His blade scraped in a steady rhythm.

“What are you doing with it?”

Silver eyes met mine briefly. It was too dark to tell, but I thought I saw a hint of a smile. “Setting a ward.”

I straightened. “A ward?” I looked around the clearing, nerves erasing the calm that had settled over me with a full stomach and no silver draining my strength. Ghedda didn’t have magic, but enough tales flowed over the Feyline for me to know that people only set wards when they wanted to keep other people—or creatures—out. I lowered my feet to the moss as goose bumps formed on my arms. “What are you warding against?”

“Ideally? Nothing.” Vander stopped and gave me an assessing look. “You’re cold.” He turned and went to his saddlebag. Red flashed, and black fabric slithered over the ground as he withdrew my mother’s dress and turned back to me.

“I can’t wear that,” I said, standing.

“Why not?” He carried the dress across the clearing. “It’s better than a nightgown.”

The dragonstones’ centers flickered red in the moonlight. In my mind’s eye, a vision formed of them swelling and refilling the holes in the fabric.

I lifted my gaze to Vander’s and found him watching me. “It’s worth a lot of money. I don’t want to ruin it.”

A beat passed. “I don’t think you need to worry about that,” he said quietly.

Of course. Of course he knew the stones were indestructible. Possibly he knew how my mother had come to own the dress. But he wasn’t going to answer my questions. Compliance was the price of information. My father had sent him to fetch me. If I wanted to know about the dress, I had to meet the vampire who sired me.

With a sigh, I took the gown and moved away. In my peripheral vision, Vander turned his back, giving me privacy.

My heart raced as I tugged the gown over my head. It settled into place immediately, molding to my skin like it had been made for me. The dragonstones winked and flashed, and a strange energy hummed in my ears. The bodice hugged my breasts, pushing them up so they formed cleavage I didn’t ordinarily possess. My skin peeked from the slashes in the sheer sleeves. When the stones’ flickering beats sped up, I realized they’d synced to my heartbeat.

“It’s beautiful,” Vander said behind me.

The gown’s skirts flared as I faced him. My hair streamed over my shoulders, the black strands blending with the fabric. As the dragonstones continued to mimic my heartbeat, I smoothed a hand down the lower half of the bodice. “I wish it was a bit more practical for travel.”

Energy flared like a warm breeze caressing my skin. Before I could react, the dress…melted.

No, it reformed. Stunned, I held out my arms from my sides as the silky black fabric shifted into a sturdy brown cotton. The plunging neckline lifted. White lace swirled around my cuffs, which ended in the middle of my forearms. My breath caught as the dragonstones climbed up my skirts and slid around my back. I craned my neck just in time to see them form a line of gleaming brown buttons down my spine.

As quickly as the transformation started, it stopped, leaving me in a beautifully made but simple gown perfectly suited to riding on horseback.

Heart thumping, I turned back to Vander.

A knowing smile curved his lips. “Looks like you got your wish.”