Blood Eternal by Marie Treanor

flight—was the fact that the rumors were there. And not just John Ramsay’s experience. They seemed to grow out of earlier murmurings, from the time the vampire revolt first broke out, of some mysterious “third force” in the Afghan war that attacked both sides without partiality. And then came hints of the bizarre nature of those attacks. Elizabeth found translations of civilian Afghan accounts, and rumors purporting to come from American forces, of “weird,” “unholy,” and “ritual” attacks, and was left with the impression that in Afghanistan, at least, the vampire secret was jumping out of the bag. And it could only spread. Vampire hunters across the world would have their work cut out quelling it. However, they would undoubtedly make the effort: They considered concealment as important as vampire killing in their overall goal of saving humans from the undead.
    As the last call for her flight penetrated her distracted mind, Elizabeth hastily shut down her laptop and shoved it into its case. She didn’t doubt that the hunters could deal with these rumors; they had a worldwide network of vast influence and almost limitless funding; and besides, sane, educated people simply didn’t believe in vampires.
    However, as she grabbed her bags and dashed for the gate, it did strike her that perhaps the hunters should have a plan for dealing with this expanding knowledge. Surely the majority of people would never believe, but the numbers who did would grow. And that was what Saloman wanted.
     
    “Elizabeth!”
    Emerging from arrivals at Dalaman Airport, Elizabeth swerved in the direction of the familiar voice. István waved to her. One of the three Hungarian vampire hunters who’d become her good friends in the last year, István looked much as he always did, casually dressed in light trousers and a T-shirt, his light brown hair falling untidily across his high, intelligent forehead. Elizabeth had always thought it a quiet, sensitive face—like its owner, perhaps a little too serious, but she was used to seeing it light up with open pleasure whenever they met.
    Her heart sank. Coming to take her bag, István certainly smiled, but there was something guarded about it. And though he kissed her on both cheeks as always, there seemed to be no warmth in the embrace.
    They don’t trust me anymore. They need my help, but they don’t trust me.
    Although she’d been prepared for it, had known in her heart it couldn’t be any other way now, she hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. In this weirdness that her life had become over the last year, she’d grown too reliant on their friendship.
    “So you drew the short straw,” she said lightly as they made their way through a crowd of chained-up luggage trolleys and a very young man haggling with some tourists for coins to detach one.
    “Hey, I’m a volunteer,” he protested.
    As he pushed open the door of the terminal building, a wall of heat seemed to hit her.
    “So where are the others?” she asked, appreciating the uninterrupted blue of the sky, loving the warmth of the sun on her upturned face, even as she wished she were wearing fewer clothes.
    István jerked his head to indicate direction. “Over there. In the hills.”
    “Have you found him?”
    “Luk? No, not yet. We pick up readings, but by the time we get there, he’s gone, and we have to start scanning all over again.”
    Elizabeth frowned. “I thought you couldn’t get readings from an Ancient?” So far as she knew, the pocket-sized vampire detectors that had become standard equipment for today’s hunters had proved useless against Saloman, who, as the last of the pure-blooded Ancient race, had different body temperatures and biochemistry from modern hybrid vampires.
    “We can now,” István said, with just a hint of satisfaction, so she knew he had probably had something to do with the discovery. She wondered what it meant for Saloman. Very little, probably, since they were telling her about