knowledge through awareness and education."
It took a second for the words to make sense, but even then Izzie's mind refused to cooperate. "I'm sorry," she said slowly. "But what?"
" I understand your confusion," Prentiss said. "Vampires aren't exactly known for their social skills."
" No, they're much more known for their 'bite first, ask questions later' skills."
" That's not true," Juliette said coldly.
" It's the stigma." Prentiss nodded. "And it's unfortunate that the actions of the few spell out such a damning reputation for the many who lead normal, albeit underground, lives."
Izzie blinked, her head aching. She felt woozy, and her surroundings seemed fuzzy against the backdrop —as though viewed through a screen door. The vampires at the end of the table could just as easily be figments of an overactive imagination, since whoever had knocked her out had sure as hell done a good job. While she typically didn't dream much, she could be dreaming now. Anything was possible.
The Wall. Ryker. Connor, and his plate of heart-attack. Those were all real. She knew it. She felt it.
These vampires, though . . . their faces could be nothing but the brainchild of a bad trip.
" I sense your skepticism," Prentiss said. "It's no small wonder why."
" It's reassuring to know I have observant hallucinations."
He chuckled and raised a hand. "I'm not a hallucination."
" That's just what a hallucination would say."
" C.R.O.S.S. has been working in league with the United States government in an effort to best decide how to educate the public on the world they do not know."
" Reality TV is all the rage these days, or so I've heard."
Prentiss grinned. "I like you, Izzie."
" I'm beside myself with joy."
" You're not like your friend, Mr. Wright."
Her insides flushed cold, and though she did her damndest to wipe her face clean. Ryker had known about Wright, too, though she didn't think he'd said his name. Her inner alarm screamed, and the hairs on her arms stood at attention. "What do you know about him?"
Prentiss 's brows perked. "More than you, I'd imagine."
" Fuck you."
" Mmm." He reached for a file she hadn't noticed. "Mr. Zachary Wright. Thirty-eight. Father of Kimberly Nicole Wright. Widower of Amber Lynne Wright. Former construction worker for J.P. Gage in San Diego, California. His wife was murdered—"
Izzie winced, looking away. "Stop."
" —when she was nine months pregnant with their son. He identified the killer as a vampire." Prentiss glanced up, his expression quizzical. "How did he manage to do that? Most reasonable people don't leap to such a conclusion without a background in these issues."
Izzie 's lips tightened. "Why don't you tell me?"
" It's no fun that way." He shook his head and looked to the file once more. "This is a matter of public record, pieced together by survivor tales. Those Mr. Wright attempted to kill but failed, particularly in the early years of his vengeance quest. As he matured, he minimized his mistakes and left fewer witnesses. All the reports are the same, though. All mention Mr. Wright in detail. A man of considerable height, build, long hair, and hard eyes. His M.O. hasn't changed, either. Not until he picked up a plucky new sidekick a few years ago."
Prentiss raised his gaze again. "So, Elizabeth Jane Bennett, where do you fit in?"
Izzie held her tongue.
"Her information was harder to find," Moira said. "But not impossible."
" Not impossible." Prentiss nodded. "You grew up in Billerica, Maine, isn't that right?"
Izzie 's jaw felt welded shut, cold, hard rage sweeping through her body, washing away any symptom of fear. Billerica. They knew about Billerica. If they knew about Billerica, they knew everything. Finding the rest wouldn't have taken much effort at all.
However, even though the knowledge shook her, it didn 't bother her at the moment as much as it should. Knowledge couldn't hurt. Whatever they said, whatever memories they dredged up, would pale in contrast to
It took a second for the words to make sense, but even then Izzie's mind refused to cooperate. "I'm sorry," she said slowly. "But what?"
" I understand your confusion," Prentiss said. "Vampires aren't exactly known for their social skills."
" No, they're much more known for their 'bite first, ask questions later' skills."
" That's not true," Juliette said coldly.
" It's the stigma." Prentiss nodded. "And it's unfortunate that the actions of the few spell out such a damning reputation for the many who lead normal, albeit underground, lives."
Izzie blinked, her head aching. She felt woozy, and her surroundings seemed fuzzy against the backdrop —as though viewed through a screen door. The vampires at the end of the table could just as easily be figments of an overactive imagination, since whoever had knocked her out had sure as hell done a good job. While she typically didn't dream much, she could be dreaming now. Anything was possible.
The Wall. Ryker. Connor, and his plate of heart-attack. Those were all real. She knew it. She felt it.
These vampires, though . . . their faces could be nothing but the brainchild of a bad trip.
" I sense your skepticism," Prentiss said. "It's no small wonder why."
" It's reassuring to know I have observant hallucinations."
He chuckled and raised a hand. "I'm not a hallucination."
" That's just what a hallucination would say."
" C.R.O.S.S. has been working in league with the United States government in an effort to best decide how to educate the public on the world they do not know."
" Reality TV is all the rage these days, or so I've heard."
Prentiss grinned. "I like you, Izzie."
" I'm beside myself with joy."
" You're not like your friend, Mr. Wright."
Her insides flushed cold, and though she did her damndest to wipe her face clean. Ryker had known about Wright, too, though she didn't think he'd said his name. Her inner alarm screamed, and the hairs on her arms stood at attention. "What do you know about him?"
Prentiss 's brows perked. "More than you, I'd imagine."
" Fuck you."
" Mmm." He reached for a file she hadn't noticed. "Mr. Zachary Wright. Thirty-eight. Father of Kimberly Nicole Wright. Widower of Amber Lynne Wright. Former construction worker for J.P. Gage in San Diego, California. His wife was murdered—"
Izzie winced, looking away. "Stop."
" —when she was nine months pregnant with their son. He identified the killer as a vampire." Prentiss glanced up, his expression quizzical. "How did he manage to do that? Most reasonable people don't leap to such a conclusion without a background in these issues."
Izzie 's lips tightened. "Why don't you tell me?"
" It's no fun that way." He shook his head and looked to the file once more. "This is a matter of public record, pieced together by survivor tales. Those Mr. Wright attempted to kill but failed, particularly in the early years of his vengeance quest. As he matured, he minimized his mistakes and left fewer witnesses. All the reports are the same, though. All mention Mr. Wright in detail. A man of considerable height, build, long hair, and hard eyes. His M.O. hasn't changed, either. Not until he picked up a plucky new sidekick a few years ago."
Prentiss raised his gaze again. "So, Elizabeth Jane Bennett, where do you fit in?"
Izzie held her tongue.
"Her information was harder to find," Moira said. "But not impossible."
" Not impossible." Prentiss nodded. "You grew up in Billerica, Maine, isn't that right?"
Izzie 's jaw felt welded shut, cold, hard rage sweeping through her body, washing away any symptom of fear. Billerica. They knew about Billerica. If they knew about Billerica, they knew everything. Finding the rest wouldn't have taken much effort at all.
However, even though the knowledge shook her, it didn 't bother her at the moment as much as it should. Knowledge couldn't hurt. Whatever they said, whatever memories they dredged up, would pale in contrast to
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