If Mr. Crepsley and Arra hadn't been concentrating so hard on the search, they'd have realized something was amiss — the sword-bearing vampires were edgy, all nervous glances and itchy fingers. I'd love to have jumped out and shocked Kurda — he was the edgiest of all — but common sense prevailed. If I was spotted alive, he and his men would kill me and the three true vampires. As long as they believed I was dead, they wouldn't do anything to give themselves away.
I spent a long time studying the faces of Kurda's companions, committing them to memory. I wondered how many more were in on the plot to destroy the clan. Not many, I bet. The vampires with him were very young. Kurda most likely recruited them himself and talked them into his way of thinking before they learned the ways of the vampires. More experienced vampires, who valued honor and loyalty, would never dream of being in cahoots with a traitor.
After a while, the group came to a halt in a small clearing, where they sat and rested, except Mr. Crepsley, who spent the period anxiously pacing. I tapped Streak's shoulder, then pointed toward the clearing — I wanted to get closer. The wolf hesitated, sniffed the air, then led the way forward. We carefully crawled to within seven or eight yards of the clearing, where we stopped, hidden by a dead tree trunk. With my developed sense of hearing, I could eavesdrop perfectly from there.
Nothing was said for several minutes. The vampires were blowing into their cupped hands and tugging their jackets closer to themselves, shivering from the cold. I smiled as I thought how uncomfortable they'd feel if they were in my compromising position.