“If someone turned you into a Strigoi, what would you want?” he asked. I didn’t know how to answer that, so I said nothing. Never taking his eyes off me, he kept pushing. “What would you want if you knew you were going to be converted into a Strigoi against your will? If you knew you would lose all sense of your old morals and understanding of what’s right and wrong? If you knew you’d live the rest of your life—your immortal life—killing innocent people? What would you want?”
