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“Ancients?” I ask.

Zuben’s back straightens. “You know nothing of vampire culture, do you?”

I shrug. “How would I have learned? That bitch turned me, then when I tried to kill her, she locked me down here.”

“How do I best explain the Ancients…” Zuben folds his hands in his lap. “Vampires date back as far as humans on this earth. Perhaps before.”

“And?”

“And some vampires remain who were made by, or are descended from those original vampires. Those are the Ancients.”

“Descended from? You mean likechildren?” Unexpected hope fills my chest. Not that I’ll get another chance to sire offspring, and that witch killed my cubs.

Zuben nods. “It is difficult and rare for vampires to produce offspring, but yes, there are two ways that a vampire can be created, either through transition from human form—or apparently from a shifter.“ He nods toward me. “And the second way is through procreation.”

My loins burn and my heart expands at the thought of creating children with Ember. But even if it’s biologically possible, I can’t.

“Enough with the history lessons.” Ryker strokes Ember’s sleeping face, and then bends to kiss her cheek. “You guys are ignoring the most important question. I know it sounds crazy, but did Ember…did she do something to Octavia to stop her?”

The air squeezes out of my chest. Octavia flew back from us. Not wanting to think about it, I’ve tried to push those details out of my mind.

“Is that part of Ember’s illumination thing?” Ryker asks Zuben.

“Illuminant,” Zuben answers, then his brow furrows and he rubs his chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“What”? Ryker asks. “What aren’t you telling us?”

“Why do you believe I possess information I am failing to disclose?” Zuben asks.

“Dude,” Ryker says. “You have a serious tell when you’re thinking.”

Looking down, Zuben drops his hand to his lap.

“What?” I ask, swallowing my instinct to growl. “Tell us.”

Zuben nods slowly. “I do not understand the source of Ember’s power. As I have said, there is very little confirmed information about the Illuminant, but I believe I was witness to Ember using this power, or whatever it is, once before.”

“When?” Ryker asks.

“Not long after we awoke in the dungeon,” Zuben says. “She was being threatened by Psycho. All she did was raise her hands toward him, and he stepped back from her.”

Trembling rises inside me and I struggle to breathe. “Is Ember awitch?” The word burns my lips.

Zuben strokes his chin again, and now that Ryker has pointed out this gesture, it’s hard to ignore.

“Witch is an ambiguous label,” he answers. “Based on my research and experience, there are beings on earth who can wield powers thatappearto be magic, who are not themselves witches.”

“What kind of answer is that?” I glare, trying to keep my dominance in check. Pent up energy, fueled by adrenaline and frustration are urging me to lunge for his throat, to do something, anything. But while pounding on this guy’s way-too-pretty face might release some tension, I know it’s a bad idea.

Following the advice I earlier gave Ryker, I force myself to take long breaths.

Straightening his back, Zuben turns to me, clearly readying for a speech. I’m running out of patience, but need answers.

“As vampires,” he says, “do we not possess superior strength, and can we not move more quickly than humans and heal from almost any wound? Doesthatmakeuswitches?” He tips his head slightly. “You have the capability to transform from bear to human—and to vampire. Doesthatmake you a witch?”

My hands are in fists, but I hold back from using them, and my fingers ache as I force them to unfurl. “I get the fucking point.”

“Based on what Ember has told me,” Zuben continues, “I believe that her mother was a keeper of magic, and that she used her magic to hide Ember from vampires, but that alone does not make Ember a witch.”