Blind Salvage: A Rylee Adamson Novel(7)

Doran’s eyes slid to half-mast as he spoke. “When they got her back to Venice for the Emperor and Empress, it was apparent that the Empress was taken with her youthful beauty and sweet disposition.”
Six years old, Berget had been only six when she was taken. My guts rolled with disgust. “What do you mean by ‘taken’?”
The Daywalker shook his head. “Not like that.” He took a breath and shook his head again before he went on. “Vampires can’t procreate; they can’t have children unless they steal them. It was immediate, the bond the Empress had with Berget. I knew the Empress; she was my master before Berget. It was more than a bond of mother and child. It was almost like the Empress saw a future for Berget. Which wouldn’t surprise me since the Empress was a Reader long before she was a vampire. In the end, she chose to keep and raise Berget rather than … .” His eyes opened and he stared into mine, the air between us chilling. “It would have been better if they’d killed her, if there had been nothing more than a meal in your sister’s future.”
I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into the palms of my hands, the minor pain welcome and easier to focus on. It didn’t matter that I knew Doran was right. I just hated to hear him say it, hated that the truth sucked so badly.
“Keep going.”
“They kept her secluded, let her feed off them. That is the start of Becoming.”
The first memory Faris had shown me, I’d seen tiny bite marks all over the Empress’ body. Now I knew them for what they were. Berget’s bite marks. Nausea rolled up, hot and acrid as it coated the back of my tongue. I clamped my mouth shut, clenching my teeth until they ached. Doran waited for me, letting me absorb his words at my own pace.
My heart rate slowed back down and I waved him to go on, afraid that if I opened my mouth, I’d spew chunks all over the roof.
“I cannot tell you the ritual of how a vampire is created, but” —he unclasped his hands to set them on his hips— “you will have to trust me that what I’m telling you is the truth, as far as I am able to share it with you. Becoming a vampire, it takes time. There is no instant creation—a one night blood exchange—as some would have you believe. Berget, the Berget you knew, became buried under the blood she was taking, of what she was becoming. Glimpses of her showed from time to time. A child full of love and compassion. I had hope that things would be better with her as a leader. But then … .” He shook his head. “I was there, when Faris killed her parents—”
I snorted and he lifted a hand to stall me.
“They were the only parents she recalled at that point. They’d made sure of it. And she saw Faris and his three brothers take on her parents. His brothers were killed, but he survived, barely, and finished the job, taking the Empress’ head and heart. Berget saw it all. She was fourteen at the time.”
I managed to speak around gut churning nausea. “That doesn’t explain everything. She knows me still. It’s not like her memories are all gone.”
Doran stepped closer to me, almost as if he would give me a hug. I didn’t step back, and he didn’t encircle me with his arms.
“When the Empress and Emperor died, they spilled their auras to her, giving her their abilities, their powers, the bonds they held over those that called them master, as well as their memories. She did not lose her own memories, but they are faint with the past staining them, and those older memories coating them. She is a child carrying the power of two ancient vampires and all that they know. She does not have the strength of mind to handle this, very few would. She is going mad. Slowly, but very surely.”
“And I suppose you want me to do something about it? Kill her and end her reign of madness?” Fuck, everyone thought I could be this supposed demon slayer or whatever the hell the prophecies were spouting. Why not be a slayer of psychotic vampires too? The thing was, a large part of me did want to save her, to bring back the little sister I so wanted to believe was buried inside. What if she could be separated from those memories and all that power? Could she possibly be brought back to some semblance of the Berget who was my sister?
He dipped his head so that we were cheek to cheek. Intimate, yet I wasn’t getting that ‘take me baby’ vibe from him. “No, this is information. Information you need so that if the chance comes, you don’t hold back. She is not your sister. What is left of her soul is … not gone, but missing. All that is left is what they were. If there is a way to free her, I do not know it.” His breath was cool against my skin as he breathed each word into me.