I nodded.
“At least for now.” To my surprise, he picked up the unconscious human and placed him down at my feet.
“Half-turn this human.” “What?’ “You heard me.
Half-turn him.” “Half-turn? What are you talking about?” Michael nudged Jeramiah’s shoulder.
“You can’t expect everyone to have figured this out.” Jeramiah nodded.
“Of course.
We’ve known about it so long I just assume that it’s common knowledge among vampires now… Half-turning humans means they don’t turn fully.
Newly turned vampires have the capability to do this.
We’ve tried with older vampires before, but they always end up either turning them or killing them.” My mind was reeling.
I’d never heard of “half-turning” a human.
I’d always thought that either a turning would be successful and the human would turn into a vampire, or the human would die.
“How is that even done?” “You exercise self-control and only insert a small dose of your venom.” I scoffed.
I was sure that the moment my fangs touched his skin, I’d drain him dry, the way I had with Yasmine and the other human I didn’t even recall by face.
“What use are half-vampires to you anyway? What are they?” I asked.
“They make useful, and more permanent, servants.
While they’re not as strong as us, their blood isn’t at all appealing.
It’s bitter.
They live a long time.
They’re preserved just as vampires are.
And they’re of no threat to us because they haven’t gotten far enough into their turning to have developed fangs or claws.
Nor do they consume only blood.
They can eat regular food too—so they’re not a burden to feed.” “How is it that a newly turned vampire can do this and not an older one?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Younger vampires’ venom is less strong.
It isn’t as developed and it’s less fast-acting.
That’s why I believe you might be useful to us… You can try, at least.
Worst case—you fail and kill an enemy.” I stared at the hunter he’d placed but a few feet away from me.
I had enough reason to want to kill these hunters after what they’d just done to me.
But the truth was, I didn’t hate hunters.
My grandfather had been one—hell, my own father had been one before he’d turned into a vampire.
Besides, even if this hunter did deserve it, I was trying to fight off the darkness digging my fangs into this man would only plunge me further into.
Michael scowled.
“All this explanation, Jeramiah, you’re making out that we’re desperate for him.
He’s got much more to gain by his joining us than we have.” “True,” Jeramiah said.
He looked at me seriously, studying my face.
“So, make your decision.
Try to half-turn this man, and if you succeed you can come with us.
Fail and, well, you’re in the same situation as you are now.
I can guide you how to do it.
But I need to see if you have enough self-control.” I gulped as I laid eyes on the hunter again.
I would have to be crazy to think that I could pull this off.
The moment my fangs grazed his neck, I’d be sucking out his blood.
I wouldn’t have the restraint to turn someone, let alone half-turn them.
As much as I was sure my body was going to regret this, I took a step back.
Everything about Jeramiah’s request felt wrong.
Half-turning someone so they became a slave for the rest of their lives? And I didn’t even know these vampires.
What did they actually do with half-vampires? I didn’t care for this hunter, but it was more for myself than for him that I stepped away from him.
This all felt a step closer toward the darkness I was trying to escape.
I shook my head.
“I’m sorry.
I can’t.” Jeramiah raised a brow in surprise.
“Are you serious?” “Yes.” The vampires exchanged glances and remained silent.
“Very well,” Jeramiah said.
“Let’s go,” Michael said.
“We’ve wasted enough time already.
We don’t need anyone else, we’ll manage ourselves.
Worst case, we just turn one of the humans we have already and then train them to half-turn if we want more half-bloods.” Michael turned on his heel and began to walk away.
The other vampires followed.
It was Jeramiah who remained beside me, still staring at me.
“Wait, Michael,” he said.
Michael stopped short, no longer bothering to hide the impatience in his face.
“Hand me your phone.” “Why?” “Just hand it over.” Michael looked taken aback, but reluctantly pulled out a small black flip phone from his pocket and handed it to Jeramiah, who held it out in front of me.
“What’s this for?” I asked, taking the phone in my hand and flipping it open.
“In case you change your mind,” Jeramiah said.
“My number is the only contact on there.
You’ll be able to contact me wherever you are.
It’s not an ordinary phone.” I was about to hand the phone back to him—I wasn’t sure I wanted to accept any kind of gifts from these people—but I had second thoughts and kept it.
I nodded.