Chapter 37

“Do you have to eat that in front of me?” Dracula huffed, putting as much distance between himself and Adam as possible. “It is absolutely revolting.”

“This?” Adam asked with a full mouth as he waved a roasted pheasant in the air. “This is food. The blood you vampires drink is revolting. My wife and child drink it all the time, and I still can’t get over how queasy it makes me.”

“They are a higher form of a civilized people. At least we don’t need to eat every few hours. You are like a newborn babe. You are slowing us down.”

He took another deliberate bite of the pheasant, enjoying the way Dracula rolled his eyes and gagged. His relationship with his father-in-law had improved over the past several years, but it was nowhere like it was between Dracula and Zachariah. Zach was like the son Dracula never had. And Adam was still the human who had mated with his daughter. However, he knew better. Dracula was fond of him in a denial-like way. As for himself, he didn’t think Dracula was so bad either.

Anymore.

He frowned as he stared down at his roasted pheasant. They had been searching for blood bane for days with nothing to show for it. They’d first searched the Silent Hollow caves, where he had found blood bane the first time. And after, they had searched at least two dozen other places with hardly any sleep to follow. The quest seemed hopeless. But at least Willow hadn’t come to find them, for if she did, it meant Oriel was already dead.

His frown deepened at the thought of Oriel Covaci. He might not have agreed to this pointless quest for blood bane if Oriel wasn’t related to Laurel, who was Zachariah’s mate. He refused to be the source of Zachariah’s unhappiness.

And…he owed Oriel. Not just for warning them about the danger posed to his son, Jesper. If not for his interference, Willow might have become the vampire’s mate instead. It was why he’d gifted the portrait of Oriel and Cosette in the first place.

Dracula broke him out of his thoughts. “When are you going to give me another grandchild?”

He lifted his head to raise an eyebrow. “Not anytime soon, I assure you. Just ask Zachariah to give you a grandchild.” He took another bite of the pheasant. Of course, Zachariah wasn’t technically Dracula’s son-in-law, but it was close enough.

He frowned at the thought of Jesper. After denouncing his blood-hunter past, he’d sworn to himself he’d never kill another vampire. Now his hands were stained again after he and Dracula had killed an entire coven of vampire slavers to protect his son.

“But being a human, you’re more fertile than him. It could take years for Zachariah and Laurel. I want another grandbaby now.”

With a heavy sigh, he rubbed the fatigue from his eyes. He wanted to drop the subject. There were more pressing matters than how many grandchildren Dracula wanted.

“I have another idea where we might find bloodbane.” He kicked dirt over the fire, smoke from the extinguished flames curling upward into the sky. A few hours of daylight remained before it would be impossible to continue their search. “The Red Grove. Flowers are so plentiful, it attracts bees, and those bees drop pollen. I have found a good mix of herbs there before.”

The frown on Dracula’s face indicated he was not done talking about grandchildren. He clasped his shoulder, and they materialized to the south side of the kingdom. He found materializing unsettling. He lost sense of all time and place, and for a few moments, he no longer had a body. Honestly, he would much rather be on a horse in a good saddle.

When they landed in the grove only moments later, he took a moment to catch his breath. His stomach churned, and he suddenly regretted eating the pheasant.

“I have already decided it,” Dracula said, oblivious to his rolling stomach. “I want a Dragomir like Lucian has. We will arrange an engagement between Jesper and a Dragomir, and when he is of age, they will mate.”

“No,” he growled. “Not until he is a hundred.”

“Fine, it can be a temporary engagement. They can grow up together and court, and if they decide they want to become mates—”

“Again, no. Talk to me about it in twenty years. I still won’t change my mind.”

The queasiness in his stomach ebbed. He took a deep breath and ventured through the grove. Immediately, the smell of dozens of different flowers hit him hard, and it hit Dracula harder. The vampire hissed and shrank away from the overwhelming scents that undoubtedly burned his nose. Adam found it difficult enough to endure as a human.

Using the crook of his elbow to cover his nose, he scanned the area around him, his gaze missing nothing. He could name at least fifteen plants and herbs begging to be picked. But they had to hurry—if it wasn’t already too late.

Blackwood. Blisterwort. Lavender. A sparrow egg in the tree. And dozens more. This place was a gold mine, and he regretted not having the opportunity to gather while he had the chance.

He frowned as he continued through the grove, only hoping to find a splash of red on the already colorful canvas.

“Find anything yet?” Dracula called.

“No. I don’t see—”

He froze as he spotted a patch of red at the base of a tree. Upon closer inspection, his eyes widened as he took in the long red flower with dozens of petals that stretched upward, rising from a green stem with thick green leaves bunched at the ground near the bottom of the stem.

Bloodbane.

“I found it!” he called, locating even more on the other side of the tree.

Dracula rushed over, gagging against the overwhelming smell, and triumph glinted in his eyes as he reached down as if to pick the plant. Adam smacked his hand with the flat edge of his knife.

“You can’t pick it,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “You have to harvest it immediately, otherwise the milk will drain from the flower long before you reach your destination. Watch.”

He pulled out a vial and uncapped it before he carefully took the stem of the blood bane in his hand and sliced through the middle of it. Red milk started to escape, and he hurriedly placed the severed stem inside the vial and watched as the red milk dripped into it. Unfortunately, one flower was hardly enough to fill it. He cut three more.

At last, red, milky liquid filled the vial, and he placed it carefully inside his herb sack. It would do no good to break the vial before they reached Oriel.

“Let’s get going,” Adam said, feeling a sense of urgency jump inside his bones.

Dracula must have felt it too because he grabbed his shoulder, and they whisked back to Ichor Knell. He just hoped they weren’t too late.