“Yeah, good point.”
There are a bunch more bones scattered around where we’re standing, so I bend down to check them out. Hudson does the same, and it isn’t long before we develop a system for searching.
We pick a small ten-foot-by-ten-foot area, and I walk all the way around it as quickly as possible; then we start combing it from different sides until we meet in the middle. If we don’t find anything, we move on to the next area. As Hudson explains, he’s more looking through my memories than looking at the actual bone piles, but, well, it works.
“You mentioned something in the tunnels, when I was thinking about the original dragons. I said that was a lot of death just for someone to gain more power, and you said it’s rarely all about power.” I frown. “But I’ve met your dad, your real dad, in your memories. And it was clear that man is driven by power.”
Hudson sighs. “I can’t believe I’m going to defend that asshole—but his almighty quest for power has a purpose more than just feeding his ego. People don’t follow him solely because he’s got boatloads of charisma, Grace. His agenda has a thread of truth to it.”
I have no idea what he’s trying to tell me. I know what it sounds like his point is, but no way am I willing to accept that the Hudson I’ve gotten to know would ever agree with Cyrus there, no matter what Jaxon thought sixteen months ago. “That born vampires are a superior race and deserve to rule? You agree with that?”
“Hell no,” Hudson barks out, shuffling around to get another view of a pile of bones. “But it is true that it’s not fair paranormal creatures have to live in the shadows, always fearful of humans discovering us and trying to destroy us.”
I blink back at him, my eyebrows shooting up into my hairline. “But your kind feeds on humans, Hudson. Shouldn’t we have the right to protect ourselves?”
“Did you enjoy your dinner last night, Grace?” he asks out of the blue. “The pepperoni on your pizza?”
Understanding dawns. “No way. I know where you’re going with this, and just no. Even though I can’t entirely agree with our right to kill animals for food, there’s no way that’s the same as vampires hunting down humans as food.”
He raises an obnoxious eyebrow. “And yet your kind has no issue with the hunting of deer to thin a population, for the good of the whole herd, yes?”
“That’s different!”
A smug smile tugs up one corner of his mouth at my outburst. “Of course. ’Cause humans definitely don’t have issues with overcrowding or limited resources.”
“But— But—” I sputter because okay, maybe he has a tiny point there.
“It’s about balance, Grace.” He shoves his hands deep into his pockets. “Did you ever consider maybe the Creator had a plan for us, too? That we were created for a reason? That we weren’t just some horrible cosmic joke?”
His endless blue gaze holds mine, so many emotions swirling just beneath their depths that I feel like they might pull me under. Because while we’ve been talking about Cyrus, I know that last bit was really about him. Is that what he truly thinks? That he’s a horrible mistake? It’s a devastating emotion to witness. But then he blinks and it’s gone so fast, I have to wonder if I imagined it.
“Agree or disagree, Grace, that’s how Cyrus is able to get so many people to follow him. Leaning in to thousands of years of perceived persecution and fear and anger, telling them humans are to blame for their lot in life, that gargoyles are standing in their way, that even their neighbors could be the enemy.
“Yes, I hate my father. But can you really blame someone for following the devil himself if he promises a better world for their children? Even if it requires walking through a river of someone else’s blood?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in the deep timbre. “Just because Dad doesn’t care about a better world for his kids doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe in the cause. And it definitely doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy being the savior. Because the only thing he likes more than power is adoration.”
“Is that why you did what you did?” I ask him. “Because your father twisted you up with his words until you couldn’t tell right from wrong? Until you believed what he had to say?”“Is that what you really think of me?” he shoots back. “That I’m so weak?”
“You can’t just rewrite history, Hudson,” I tell him. “It’s not like Jaxon woke up one morning and just decided to kill you. You were planning on exterminating made vampires simply because you don’t like them. That’s genocide, in case you don’t recognize the definition.”