Jade Fern Grove no vampires remain in romania

She seethed at the question. "I am not Tartok," she repeated. Haunt realized how waspish she sounded and sank her teeth into her tongue before she could continue hissing at a perfect stranger. Making an effort to smooth her proverbial petticoats, she explained haltingly, "My—sire—he was Tartok. But he left us. I am no Tartok." She might as well have spat as she firmly denounced the name.

Eyes suddenly blazing, she couldn't resist asking, "Do you know him? Kaertok?" It was like incessantly poking her tongue into a cavity. Talking about him hurt, though she couldn't help herself. Haunt was pretty sure she'd never felt so strongly about anything in her life as she did about these reminders of her deadbeat dad. And that's just what he was: dead to her.