“I don’t understand,” Reg said, sounding genuinely confused. “If your goal is to remain inconspicuous, is this not counterintuitive? Hundreds of people waking up with mass amnesia is sure to draw attention.”

“We have procedures in place for such things,” Adante said. “The population will be taken care of. Bank accounts full. They’ll be a little foggy, but they will all share a memory of the tragedy that forced them out of their village . . . a fire, perhaps. Or a flood. Yes, a flood, I think. Less drama. And, of course, they will have no desire to return or to even discuss it.”

“Won’t they wonder why this ‘flood’ didn’t make the news or show up in their social media feeds?” I challenged.

Adante smiled. “Would that we could erase the whole internet. But not to worry. We have a cadre in place for the rare occasion when a memory fade must be handled en masse. They’ve never done a migration—mostly cleanup for incidents at nightclubs or small sporting events—but I’m certain they are up to the task. They plant newspaper articles, forge photos, perform memory work on reporters, and, yes, even handle the dreaded social media.”

I blinked. “Sorry, are you saying you have a supersized memory-wipe street team?”

“More like a PR firm,” the doe-eyed Elder said. “For damage control.”

“So you admit you’re doing damage,” Lina said.

Bile rose into my throat as I imagined my friends knocked out by vampire venom, bites on their necks, and a pack of Elders, kneeling one by one alongside them, whispering in their ears, telling them what to remember and what to forget, inserting tragic memories of nightmares that never even happened.

My friends. They would lose their homes, their histories.

But they would keep their lives.

I couldn’t say the same for me and Reg. If we refused to help, we were falling on our own stakes, doomed to mortality and certain death.

Adante spread his arms. “You needn’t worry about these trivial details. You need only to help us gather them up, and this human detour will be but a memory.”

“Gather them up?” I didn’t understand.

The Elder girl folded her hands in front of her, her pose all schoolteacher, even though her face was all student.

“The process is more manageable when prey”—she cleared her throat—“people are all together. When they scatter, the hunt takes longer. More go astray. A gathering is more efficient.”

“What kind of gathering?” Reg asked.

“How about a blood drive?” I deadpanned.

The room tittered at that, but Adante missed the joke. “The temptation would be too great,” he said. “The feeding might get out of control.”

“Then what did you have in mind?” Lina asked.