He preferred action to reaction.
This, however, was enough to make any man hesitate.
“So you’re saying this . . . thing is the creator of vampires?” he demanded.
Baine gave a wave of his hand. “That’s my assumption.”
Santiago’s low growl rumbled in his throat. This dragon would be greatly improved by a good ass-kicking. A damned shame he’d promised Nefri to be on his best behavior.
“Assumption?” he snapped.
“Santiago.” Nefri sent him one of those glances that held a combination of exasperation and warning before turning back to the dragon. “As you can imagine, this has been a shock.”
Baine lifted a brow. “Don’t you know anything of your history?”
“There’s very little written on the origins of vampires. And the oral history . . .” Nefri gave a lift of her hands. “Well, I don’t have to tell you, we’re an arrogant species. It’s not surprising that most believe we were sent to this world by superior beings to become the ultimate rulers.”
“And it never occurred to you that you might be a mutation from a more primitive demon?” Baine demanded.
Nefri shook her head. “My studies have been slanted toward the mystical rather than the scientific. I’ve never researched evolution.”
The burning amber gaze shifted to Santiago. “And you?”
He shrugged. “I like the ‘ultimate rulers’ theory.”
Baine snorted, a hint of smoke curling from one nostril. “Predictable.”
Nefri ignored their little interchange, her expression hinting that she wasn’t nearly so calm as she was trying to pretend.
“Will you share what you know?”
“My knowledge is fragmented and far too much relies on stories I’ve heard secondhand,” the dragon admitted. “I never encountered the actual spirit in person. Thank my own very mysterious gods.”
Santiago instinctively tightened his hand on his sword. Knowing that the all-powerful dragon was afraid of the spirit wasn’t particularly heartening. “Why?”
“It’s claimed that the spirit is capable of feeding off any demon, no matter how strong they might be.”
“It feeds off demons?” Santiago rasped.
“Demons or humans.” Baine shrugged. “It doesn’t seem to be particular.”
Well, this just got better and better.
Grimacing, Santiago tried to shove aside the growing list of reasons why he should return to Styx and tell him to appoint another vampire to hunt down Gaius.
The spirit was an enemy. He needed to approach it as he would any other enemy. Which meant gaining as much intel as he could.
“You said that its spawn had their own means of feeding,” he said. “Which I assume means it doesn’t drink blood or suck souls.”
Baine smiled, the amber eyes smoldering with fire. “No.”
“Then what the . . .” Santiago stilled, cursing himself for being so dense. It all made perfect, horrible sense now. “Mierda.”
Nefri sent him a puzzled glance. “What is it?”
“Emotion,” he rasped. “It feeds off emotion.”
Her eyes widened, easily able to make the same connection that he had. “Of course.”
“So, not all brawn,” Baine drawled.
Santiago narrowed his gaze. “I have my moments.”
“If this creature feeds off emotion, it makes sense that it would inspire fear and lust and violence among humans,” Nefri murmured, speaking her thoughts out loud.
“And demons,” Baine reminded her.
“Yes, and demons.” Her brow furrowed. “But why use Gaius to spread the emotions? Does it need a conduit?”
Baine tapped a finger on the arm of his throne. “Are you certain it’s Gaius that’s creating the emotions?”
Nefri gave a hesitant nod. “As certain as we can be at this point.”
“This spirit,” Santiago abruptly interrupted, “is it able to take corporeal form?”
Baine shook his head. “Like vampires it’s symbiant.”
Santiago scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It must take possession of a body that belongs to another.”
Santiago glanced toward Nefri. They’d been chasing what they thought were two demons. Was it possible that it was just one and he was being possessed by the spirit?
“Gaius?”
She chewed her bottom lip. “You said that the witch claimed he was protecting someone.”
“She never did see the ‘someone,’” he pointed out.
“True,” she agreed, although her expression remained troubled.
Santiago didn’t blame her. Right now they could do no more than make wild suppositions that didn’t do them a damned bit of good.
He turned back to the dragon. “The most important question is how do we kill it?”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” The amber flames in Baine’s eyes became oddly hypnotizing. “It is, after all, your ultimate sire.”
Santiago shook off the dragon’s intrusion into his mind. The bastard was no doubt hoping to enjoy a full-blown spiritual crisis. Unfortunately for him, Santiago was a warrior, not a monk.
“What will happen if it’s left free?”
A mocking smile touched Baine’s mouth. “Strong emotions have inevitable conclusions. It begins with murder and rape and the always favorite pillaging. Eventually it will disintegrate into war, genocide, and famine.”
He felt Nefri grow rigid at the stark warning and he instinctively rubbed a comforting hand down her back.
Not that he had much comfort to offer.
Dammit, hadn’t they just prevented the end of the world? Now they had to face war and genocide and famine?
Where was the justice in that?
“You didn’t answer the question,” he reminded the dragon, in no mood to be diplomatic. He snorted. Who was he kidding? He was never in the mood to be diplomatic. But after the past few weeks he was even more impatient than usual. “How do we kill it?”
Baine’s tattoos swirled in warning, although his voice remained soft. “I don’t know.”
So the mighty dragon knew everything but the information they most needed.
Predictable.
“Great.”
Baine leaned forward. “But I do find it intriguing that the Commission chose to imprison the spirit rather than destroying it, don’t you?”
Santiago paused. He’d rather have his tongue cut out than admit it, but the oversized lizard had a point.