Chapter 33: Blue Convolvulus, Part 3

"You might try saying 'poor Gilles' more often," his father said quietly. "There is more to your cousin than you have ever bothered to learn." He grunted softly. "Though, that certainly goes both ways."

"If you say so," Aubrey said, but couldn't muster the will to really argue, not when he remembered Stregoni's face. For his best friend to feel that way...either Gilles was more of a monster than he'd always believed, or far less of one.

"How did Gilles survive?" Sangre asked. "I saw him before I went downstairs to find François and William. He should not be alive. Ruthven has fallen into his strange, deep sleep again - I cannot think the two are unrelated."

Aubrey hesitated.

"Tell me," Sangre said firmly. "I seriously doubt you can say anything that would shock me, not after what has already transpired...and what I used to do."

"Ruthven...did something..." Aubrey said slowly. "He drank my blood...and then gave it to Gilles. I don't know, it was very strange."