Kerrelyn Sparks: How to Seduce a Vampire (Without Really Trying)

A pained look crossed Russell’s face. “Fine. Two weeks ago, I was following Lord Liao and a troop of soldiers when they were attacked by a smaller force. I figured the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and they were taking some heavy casualties, so I helped them. We killed most of Lord Liao’s soldiers, but of course, he teleported away. I was wounded and fell unconscious. I would have died when the sun came up, but they saved me.”

“Who are they?”

Russell groaned. “The only thing they asked for in return was that I not tell anyone who they are and where they live. I’m sorry. I really do appreciate all you’ve done, but I can’t say anything more.”

“Very well. Keep your mouth shut and point in the right direction.”

Russell snorted. “Why is this so important to you?”

Zoltan lifted the arrow. Moonlight gleamed off the steel tip. “An arrow much like this one killed my father.”

“You want revenge then?”

Zoltan shook his head. “I’m sure the culprit is long dead. I want answers.”

Russell shifted his weight. “Sometimes there aren’t any. Just go back home. They want to be left alone.”

“Who are they?”

“Go home.” Russell teleported away.

Zoltan lunged toward him, but he was gone. “Dammit.” It was just as well. Russell wasn’t going to give him any more information.

Pivoting in a circle, Zoltan took in his bearings. The middle of nowhere. No weapons on him, other than the arrow. He took out his cell phone and checked his location on the GPS. Tibet.

He considered returning to the castle to grab more weapons and a coat. Even though it was the middle of May, spring was late here. A cold wind was blowing from the north, ruffling the grass that had yet to turn green.

On his phone, he spotted the nearest village, over a hundred miles to the southwest. Why waste time going home? He could be at this village in half an hour, asking questions.

He set off at a brisk pace, excitement building inside him. This was a lot more interesting than what he normally did every evening. Work in his office in Budapest. He was dressed for work—white dress shirt, red tie, an expensive Italian suit and loafers. Not at all suitable for an adventure in Tibet, but if he got into any sort of trouble, he could simply teleport back home.

Tibet. Did the people who had killed his father travel all the way from Tibet? When he’d searched for them centuries ago, he’d covered Eastern Europe, western Russia, and the Middle East. Finally, in the northwestern part of India, he’d given up, unable to believe that anyone would travel that far to kill someone in Transylvania.

Was his father’s murder somehow connected to his mother’s mysterious background? She’d been from the east, but no one knew where exactly. His father, a merchant who traveled the Silk Road, had fallen in love with her and brought her home.

Could she have been from Tibet? Zoltan’s pulse quickened. After almost eight hundred years, he might finally get some answers.

He teleported as far as he could see, then repeated the process until he was close to the village. The landscape gradually changed, growing more hilly and forested. He teleported to a high branch of a pine tree so he could survey the village. It was nestled in a valley along the sides of a stream. No electricity. A few lanterns were lit along the one main street. He checked his cell phone. Out of range. If he returned, he’d need to bring a satellite phone.

He dropped to the ground, adjusted his suit and tie, then sauntered casually into the village. An old woman was hunched over a homemade broom, sweeping her front porch.

When Zoltan greeted her, she straightened, eyeing him with suspicion.

He greeted her again, using English and giving her a smile. Then he showed her the arrow. “Do you know where—”

She launched into a tirade of angry words, shook her broom at him, then rushed into her ramshackle house, slamming the door behind her.

Zoltan sighed. He should have realized there would be a language barrier. Over the centuries, he’d learned nine languages, but the Tibetan spoken in this village was not one of them.

He spotted a man sitting on another porch, drinking from a leather pouch. “Good evening.” He lifted the arrow. “Do you know where—”

The man stumbled to his feet, muttering under his breath. Then he waved his arms as if trying to chase Zoltan away. When that didn’t work, he spit in the dirt, then rushed into his house and slammed the door.

Silly human is trying to get himself killed.

Zoltan turned toward the voice but saw only a dog resting on a porch a few houses down the road. Of course. Since early childhood, Zoltan had possessed the strange ability to communicate with animals. They were often his best source of information, since the conversations were purely mental and devoid of any language barriers.

He walked slowly toward the dog, sending him a message. Why would my questions get me killed?

The dog jerked to a sitting position. What was that?

It’s me. Zoltan stopped in the street, ready to teleport away if necessary. It was always hard to predict how an animal would react. Most dogs were friendly, but every now and then, one would feel threatened and attack.

What? The dog tilted his head to the side and quirked his ears. Are you talking to me?

Yes. I have the ability to communicate with animals.

Are you kidding me? The little spotted dog leaped off the porch and scampered toward him. Can you really talk to me? Can you hear my thoughts?

Yes. And you can hear mine.

Holy dog poop! The dog pranced around him in a circle. This is so awesome! I didn’t know humans had thoughts. Some of them don’t seem very bright, you know, so I wondered. Have you always been able to do this? Could you do it when you were a puppy? You must be a weird human. I think you smell a little weird. Do you like to eat? I like rabbit. Would you like to be my friend?

Sure, Zoltan replied as the dog circled him for the fifth time. This was obviously one of the friendly dogs. Can you relax a little bit?

Why? Are you having trouble keeping up? I’ve always suspected humans are slow. You don’t smell like the other humans I know. I could pee on you so you’d smell better.

No thank you .

The dog suddenly jumped and looked to the side. What was that?

I’m not sure.

I think it was a rabbit. I like rabbit the best. Are you hungry? I am. If you throw your stick, I’ll bring it back to you.

Zoltan showed the arrow to the dog. I’d like to know more about this stick and the people who made it.

The dog sat in front of him and tilted its head. Do you have any food with you?

No. But I could pat you on the head.

The dog’s tongue lolled out while it considered. Okay.

Zoltan patted its head. Good dog. So what do you know about the makers of this arrow?

The dog’s tail thumped on the ground. They’re hunters. Fierce warriors. The humans here are afraid of them. You should stay away from them.

Zoltan rubbed the dog’s ears, and its tail wagged so hard that its rear end wiggled. Why should I stay away?

Because they’ll kill you.

Zoltan paused. Where are they?

You stopped petting me. And I shouldn’t tell you, cause you’ll get yourself killed. I’ve always suspected humans aren’t very bright.

Zoltan patted its head. What a smart dog you are. Where are they?

In the mountains to the south. Do you want to play with me now?