I dig into the salty food, fighting back a groan because I love when a restaurant doesn’t hold back on the feta.
I haven’t eaten with someone beside me in years. If I actually knew or liked Sevan, it might be a nice feeling to be this close. The outside of my arm brushing hers every so often isn’t so bad.
Sevan’s cocky smile is a thing of the past as she shuts the diary and slides it across the table to Avet. “I’m out. I mean, obviously. This is insane, Avet. I don’t know why you thought I would be helpful with this mess. I wish we’d known that when we went tearing into that lair last week. I never would have gone.”
Avet leans forward, unwilling to be dismissed before he says his piece. “I reached out to you because every trapper had written off Keran as dead except for you and me. We were right because we can still do this job and think creatively. Most other trappers go by the book and throw out any possibilities that don’t fit into the norm.”
Sevan picks up the diary. “For the record, this isn’t the book to go by. This is a misguided girl who should have known better than to even entertain a conversation with a vampire.” She shakes her head. “How does that work, exactly? They only blend in if you don’t know the obvious signs, which I’m guessing your sister did.”
Avet bobs his head. “Cher is well-educated in trapping. She knows to spot the fangs, the disheveled look, the hungry gleam about them.”
Of course, it’s easy to spot a vampire. They don’t exactly blend in.
Sevan wags the diary in her grip. “Then what was Cher doing, inviting one into her bedroom?” Sevan sets down the journal so she can massage her temples. “And how on earth did the vampire manage to keep her alive for months without killing her? Not a week. Months, Avet. And now we have to worry about how dangerous their bite is when it isn’t fatal? They can inject their prey with a sedative to keep them docile while they feed. We know that. The normal venom makes you a little clumsy, but this incident of repeated bites over long periods of time sounds far worse.” She shakes her head. “I’m out. This is chaos.”
Sevan turns in her seat, but before she can dart out, Avet lunges across the table and holds onto her wrist. “Please, Sev. You know that time I saved your life in Dilijan?”
“You’re seriously bringing that up in mixed company?”
Avet nods, not holding back his vulnerability. “Well, you said you owe me, so this is me cashing in. I need a favor. I need this favor.” His wild green eyes beg her for kindness. “It’s my sister.”
Sevan stills and then starts talking with her hands, gesturing wildly while she throws around laughter that holds no joy. “How about I do something simpler, like track down Bel’s clay pot where the first vishap was born? Or perhaps you’d like me to find Bel herself and cut off her head.” Her volume climbs, which attracts the wrong kind of attention. “Anything would be simpler than this!”
Avet is getting nowhere with his emotional plea, so I swallow my bite of fruit and stick my nose into the mess, keeping my voice low and calm. I don’t exactly want Sevan around, but if Avet thinks she’s necessary, then here we go. “Avet told me you’re a researcher. You study before you move on a job. He told me you see different angles because you know more about the history and all that. You might be scared right now because all your research is about to look different with this new filter on it, but don’t you want to be there first? Don’t you want to know things the other trappers never will because they can’t wrap their minds around it?”
Sevan stills, though she wears hesitation in her distrusting gaze. “It’s not possible.”
“The world is changing. Either Avet and I go down this path without you, or you come with us and investigate for yourself. Those are your only options. This not being true isn’t in the cards anymore, I’m afraid. Andranik is a vampire who seduced a human, drinking from her over several months. Cher was smart enough to catalog her addiction to his venom.”
Sevan doesn’t appear angry at my frankness but rather frightened as she shakes her head. “But that changes everything. That changes the whole game.”
My shoulders lower. “Exactly.” I motion with my thumb and littlest finger between Avet and myself. “We want to play the game so well; the vamp won’t know what hit him. We’re getting Cher back, and we’re putting a stop to whatever sick game Andranik is up to, seducing humans and addicting them like that.”
Sevan shakes her head. “It’s… This is… I don’t…”
But I sit back in my seat while I munch on my rye toast. I know very little about this woman—about most women, really—but I see in her the same thing I did, once the denial took its proper place in the backseat, allowing my critical brain to do the decision-making. While Sevan may not be completely on board yet, there is no way she will walk away from an unsolved puzzle this intense.
I finish my breakfast in peace, knowing that we are about to add a third to our trapping party.
12
THE TRAPPER’S PARADISE
I’m not sure how to feel about having a person I don’t know in my space like this. Though I am in the driver’s seat and Avet is beside me, the very real fact that Sevan is behind us on her sleek, red Hayasa brand motorcycle hasn’t escaped my notice.
It’s good that she is with us on this. At least, that’s what Avet has assured me.
I’m still on the fence about the whole thing.
“Why are we visiting Sargis, again?” Avet asks me.
I take in a long breath before answering, so I don’t sound testy at fielding Avet’s question for the fifth time since we left the diner to head out of town. “Other than the fact that he’s my dad and I haven’t seen him in three years?”
“Other than that, sure.”
I snort in Avet’s direction. “Because he has all the good weapons. And he’s up to date on the latest conspiracies. If anyone has heard of Andranik or a vampire’s ability to poison and keep a person alive for this long while slowly addicting his victim to his bite, it will be my dad. People tell Sargis everything.” My lips purse as the other reason I want to see my dad surfaces. “Sargis took me in when I had no one. When I don’t know where to turn for answers, he’s the only name that pops into my head. Plus, if I’m back in the trapping game and I don’t check in?”
Avet turns his chin in my direction. “You really haven’t seen your own father in three years?” When I respond by gripping the steering wheel tighter, Avet whistles long and low. “Man, when you run from the world, you go all out. Keeping distance from your foster father? That’s cold.”