So it hadn’t been about preserving true love at all. Figures. Vampires seldom did anything with purely altruistic motives.
“What happens if Gregor touches me in my dreams?” I asked, moving on. “What then?”
Bones answered me, and the burning intensity in his gaze could have seared my face.
“If Gregor takes ahold of you in your dreams, when you wake, you’ll be wherever he is. That’s why he’s called the Dreamsnatcher. He can steal people away in their dreams.”
TWO
I’D ARGUED, OF COURSE. BOTH MEN GAVE ME looks that said how stupid it was to debate something they knew for a fact. Gregor’s ability normally just worked with humans, since vampires and ghouls had a supernatural mind control that prevented such subconscious kidnappings. But since I was a half-breed, it was possible that Gregor’s trick would work on me, too.
Wait until I told my uncle that there was a vampire who could do this. He’d shit himself.
“Gregor will attempt to coerce you in your dreams,” Mencheres said in parting. “You would do well to ignore anything he says and to wake yourself up as quickly as possible.”
“You can bet your ass on that,” I muttered. “By the way, what’s the significance of Paris? You said we’d chosen to come to Paris like that was significant.”
“Gregor is French,” was Mencheres’s reply. “You chose to visit his home of nearly nine centuries. I doubt that’s a coincidence.”
I bristled. “What are you implying?”
“The obvious,” Bones said, almost yanking on my arm as we walked up to a picturesque chalet partially concealed by clinging vines. “Gregor told you to come here.”
We were greeted by a lovely French couple, both vampires, who met us at the entrance with welcoming words I didn’t understand. Bones spoke to them in the same language, his accent sounding as authentic as theirs.