“If he’s got a dick, well…you’ve heard of high divorce rates, right? Men can be heartless pigs to their wives. Maybe my grandfather thought it would be easier to kill her than go through a messy divorce. I see stories about it in the news all the time. And I have no clue what happened between my grandfather and my mother. As for my sister, he doesn’t know us.”
“Humans divorce. Lycans mate forever. It’s a bonding that is so strong, some die without the other. Filmore has to be defective in mind and heart to have been able to kill Marvilella. She was bound to him, tried to change him for the better by giving him her love, but she suffered greatly for it. She always looked sad when she visited her family in our clan.”#p#分页标题#e#
Dusti rolled her eyes. “Now you’re telling me you’re old enough to have known my grandmother? She died before I was even born. You aren’t much older than I am. You would have been a baby.”
A chilly smile curved his lips. “You’d be surprised at how old I truly am.”
“Right. Because you’re half Vampire and they don’t age. Sure. Okay, Grandpa. You look damn fine for a geezer.”
“Your smart mouth is going to be your undoing. Fine, don’t believe what you’re told, but eventually you’ll see the truth.”
It was too much for her. It was too foreign a concept. “Whatever. If I bought into this crap, what makes my sister such a hot commodity to this Aveoth anyway? Can’t he find a woman on his own? If I’m buying this chunk of swampland you’re trying to sell, a lot would depend on whether or not he even wanted her. You’ve met my sister. Most guys spend two minutes with her and run for cover if they have a brain.”
“It’s the bloodline. Aveoth has a craving for it.”
“Come again?” Dusti frowned.
“He was set to take Margola as his lover but she died before reaching maturity. After she was promised to him, Margola’s parents gave Aveoth a bit of her blood to drink, every month for a few years. GarLycans have stronger Gargoyle genes. They don’t form emotional attachments to lovers, only their mates. Margola’s parents feared he’d be so callous toward her that her life would be utter misery. They’d hoped he’d become addicted to her blood enough that he’d take good care of her, and not kill her soul during the years she’d spend with him until he finally found his mate and set her free.”
“Where are her parents?”
He hesitated. “That’s unknown. They fled shortly after Margola’s death. I think they were afraid Aveoth’s father would kill them for allowing her to die.”
“It sounds like they were responsible for her death or something? Were they?”
“No. Aveoth’s father was a full-blooded Gargoyle and cold as ice. He did blame them; felt they should have watched her better since she was promised to his son. She loved to take walks in the woods, and they allowed it. She ran into a group of hunters who must have thought she was an animal, since she was in her shifted form. They opened fire on her. She escaped them but died before the clan found her. They’d gone searching when she didn’t make it home. Lord Abotorus was enraged, since he’d allowed Aveoth to feed off her. He hadn’t wanted to but Margola’s parents had insisted. Afterward, Aveoth supposedly showed signs of withdrawal from her blood.”
“Let’s get back to the ‘kill her soul’ part, since you’re just confusing me more. Why would that have happened and how?”
“Gargoyles aren’t the friendliest beings you’ll ever meet. VampLycan women usually crave tenderness, and a man who will see to their emotional needs. Without it, she could lose the will to live.” He frowned. “Margola’s parents believed drinking her blood would teach Aveoth to want more from her than just sex. It was important to our clan to cement an emotional bond between them so he’d keep her happy. His father hit the roof when his son suffered withdrawals after her death, as if he’d become addicted.
“That same blood runs in your sister’s veins, and probably even in yours. Your bloodline is the taste we believe Aveoth craves the most. If it’s true, he’ll do anything to have that again, even go against his own beliefs. He hates Filmore, everything he stands for, but his weakness is the blood.”#p#分页标题#e#
“Doesn’t all blood taste the same?”
He shook his head. “No. Not only are we able to distinguish between types, but we can differentiate family bloodlines. Think of his addiction as a human’s preference for a favorite fine wine. The others pale in comparison.”