
**Last One: The Soul of a Vampire**  
The Complete Series

A.M. Yates

Copyright 2017 © A.M. Yates   
Second Edition

Cover Art: 16668751 © Jakub Gojda/123rf.com; 54483045 © Kritsada Seekham/123rf.com

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Light My Soul: Book One

1: My Sister's Death

**M** y sister is a vampire and it's my fault.

When I saw Ennis dead on the living room floor, I wasn't thinking anything except that I couldn't lose anybody else. In hindsight, it was selfish. I didn't think about what it would mean for her, how she would change.

I begged Rafe to turn her, to save her.

And he told me, flat out, "I can turn her, but I won't be saving her."

I should've appreciated his honesty at that moment, because like all vampires he's a master manipulator and a murderer.

But he hadn't killed Ennis. Some other vamp had done that. It was Rafe's fault, though. He'd been checking up on us for the last seven years—in other words, stalking Ennis. We'd moved out of his territory and onto another vamp's turf a long time ago. But he couldn't stay away. Vampire love is kind of (sorry, for the pun) forever. And he'd led the other vamp right to us.

I'd only learned vampires were real the night before when Rafe had shown up to warn Ennis that the local bloodsucker knew about us. Ennis had freaked out on him, threatening to kill him if he came anywhere near us again. We should've listened to him. We should've left town. But we didn't. And the next night, we were attacked.

I came into the living room to find the local beast of a vamp with his beefy hands wrapped around Ennis' neck, throttling her. When he saw me, he dropped her without a second glance. But before I could run or wet myself, he was being tossed through the patio doors, crashing into the backyard. Then Rafe was tearing the umbrella from the table and driving the pole through the vamp's chest. Slowly, he'd crumbled into a pile of dust. Just like the movies.

But changing a mortal into an immortal isn't like the movies—the ones that have the "sire" giving the victim a taste of his vampire blood and, presto-chango, new vamp.

A person drained by a vamp _does_ need blood to be turned, but not vampire blood.

Finally giving into my pleas, Rafe held out his hand. "Nico, give me your arm."

I hesitated.

"Do you want this or not?" Rafe said through his vampire teeth. The only things that changed about him were the fangs and his eyes. They were blue, but a bleached hue, the irises almost white.

I thrust out my arm. His hand curled around my wrist, all the way around. I gritted my teeth and tried to act tough. His hand wasn't cold, his grip wasn't a vice, but it was firm.

"This won't hurt," he said.

"I don't care," I lied. "Just bring her back."

It happened so fast. One second he was looking at me with his freaky washed-out eyes, and the next, his mouth was on my wrist.

He was right. It didn't hurt. In fact, it felt good. As a fourteen-year-old boy, I was accustomed to awkwardness. But I was unprepared for how embarrassing it was to enjoy having my blood drained. Just as I grew light-headed, he shoved me away, onto the couch. I slumped there, clutching my wrist to my chest and trying to catch my breath.

Blood gurgled in his throat, my blood. "It'll heal."

He gathered Ennis closer, turning his face away. Then he gave her what looked like a deep kiss. Blood trickled down her jaw and onto her favorite silk blouse. And I thought how pissed she would be about the stain. I wasn't thinking very clearly.

When he pulled back, he wiped the blood off her cheek with his thumb. A tint of red smeared her lips like she'd been eating strawberries.

Rafe closed his eyes. When he turned back to me, they were their usual preternatural blue.

"How's your wrist?"

Blood trickled down my forearm, but there weren't any bite marks.

He didn't wait for me to answer. "Eat something. Take a shower. Lie down."

"I can't eat," I said. "I'm not going to be able to sleep."

"Try," he said, weary. "And have a cookie or something. Haven't you ever donated blood?"

"I'm too young," I snapped.

He looked at me appraisingly. "I suppose you are."

He stood, lifting Ennis as he did. She draped over his arms, as lifeless as ever. He started down the hall, toward her bedroom.

"But..." I trailed after him. "Did it work?"

"If it did," he said, "you don't want to be there when she wakes up."

"Yes, I—"

"No," he said, "you don't."

He shut the bedroom door. A moment later, the lock clicked.

Vampires are liars, but sometimes they tell the truth. 
2: My Sister the Vampire

**T** he leftover slice of chocolate cheesecake in the fridge belonged to Ennis, but I guessed that she wouldn't want it either way.

I sat in the kitchen for a long time, hoping one of them would come out of her bedroom. But after an hour or two, when neither reappeared, I took a shower. As I scrubbed away the blood on my arm, the white bar of soap turned pink. No marks were left, not even a scar.

In my room, I flopped onto the bed and that's when it hit me. I wept. My chest, my throat, my eyes burned.

I prayed, maybe for the first time in my life. I prayed that my sister would become a vampire.

Messed up, huh?

A thump or a grunt, a sound outside the insulating darkness of sleep, woke me. I hadn't dreamt. That was fine by me. My dreams were too often nightmares anyway, but at least they left me with some sense of having slept. When I woke, I had a moment of disorientation. Had I fallen asleep? What time was it?

Then I heard it again. A thump. Like someone in heavy boots stomping against the wood floors.

I crept down the hall to Ennis's bedroom. It wasn't dawn yet, but a lamp had been left on in the living room, providing enough illumination that my eyes didn't require much time to adjust.

In my socks, I didn't make a sound. Or I didn't think I did. I stopped outside her bedroom. Tacky sweat collected between my shoulder blades. My stomach felt cold and hard. My hands rose to touch the door.

Before my fingertips met the wood, something slammed against the other side.

I jumped back, my heart in my throat.

The door banged again, rattling in its hinges.

"Go back to your room, Nico," Rafe called. He was calm, but stern.

The door shook again and again. The picture frames in the hall shimmied and tilted. The floor shuddered.

I backed up until I hit the wall. The door absorbed each blow. How many more it could stand before it cracked and splintered?

"Go!" Rafe shouted. But he sounded in control. Right then, it was a thought I needed to have. Someone was in control.

I slid along the wall and ducked back into my room. I fell onto the bed. I left the door open.

The light through the blinds grew stronger. Dawn arrived. Then it was after dawn.

I flinched when I looked up to find Rafe at the threshold.

I stood, not knowing what to say.

Maybe he didn't know what to say either, because he turned. I followed. He paused outside Ennis's door, his hand on the knob, his gaze combing over me. My hands clenched as he scrutinized me.

He opened the door and led me inside.

The room was very dark.

Ennis hated light when she slept. She had blackout shades and insulated curtains over those. The bright morning light from the living room windows spilled down the hall but barely touched the darkness in her room. Still, I could make her out, a dark figure lying on the bed. I took a couple of steps and then stopped.

It didn't look like she was breathing.

He pulled the chain on the lamp next to her bed. Yellow-tinged light fell over her face and my breath caught.

Rafe watched me as he knelt beside her.

Her hair, which had always been brown with a tendency to turn ruddy in the summer, was now red. Her pillowcase was cream-hued and against it, her hair looked like a slick of fresh blood (guess I had blood on my mind).

He ran his hand down her cheek and turned her head toward me. The change in her features was subtle. I couldn't pinpoint it right away. It was like she'd been subjected to one of those stupid TV makeovers. New haircut and makeup, and all her friends and family are dumbstruck. Except my sister had always been beautiful. I knew it, even if she didn't. A few of my friends were annoying enough to point it out.

But now my beautiful sister was (puns abound) drop-dead gorgeous. Her face was the same, mostly. But the softness of those few extra pounds had vanished from her cheeks. Her skin was smoother. Her lips, fuller. She appeared to be wearing makeup, but I knew she wasn't. She never did.

Rafe studied me. And it irked me because he looked like he was expecting a reaction, but I didn't know what it was and I didn't like the feeling gnawing at my insides—anxiety. What had I done?

"She looks dead," I said.

"She _is_ dead," he said smoothly.

"But—"

"You need to understand what your sister is now. She's a thief, a murderer—"

Indignant heat rushed to my cheeks. "She hasn't killed anybody."

"Not yet," he said, matter-of-fact, "but she will. She has to because this body can't produce blood, all it can do is steal it. To keep her soul in this non-living body, she'll have to kill living humans."

"Can't she just—"

"No," he said, "she can't. Whatever you're thinking, whatever you're hoping, it's been tried. It's failed. She _will_ have to kill people, Nico."

I bit back my words and choked on them.

What was I going to do, argue with him? I was a scrawny fourteen-year-old mortal and he was a vampire. A part of me didn't believe him though, Ennis didn't kill people. There would be a way, some other way Rafe hadn't thought of... there had to be.

He stood and came around the bed.

I stepped back.

"How come you're not asleep or whatever? The light doesn't bother you?" I asked.

"Sunlight doesn't kill us, but our skin is different," he explained. "It'll burn quickly. It takes time to build up a tolerance."

"Like a vamp tan?"

"Something like that," he said, amused. "I have to take her away from here, away from you."

"What? Why? For how long?"

"Not long," he said. "A week or two. She needs to... You won't want to see her until she's adjusted."

"Until she's killed somebody, right?"

"Nicolas—"

"Just don't treat me like a kid," I said. "Tell me the truth."

He smiled sadly. "Vampires have considerable difficulty with the truth."

"What the hell does that mean?" It was the first time I'd deliberately sworn in conversation with an adult, except he wasn't really an adult, he wasn't even human. And that's when it occurred to me that my sister wasn't really human either. But I didn't understand what that meant, not really—not yet.

"You've been lying to me? You're going to lie?" I asked.

He cocked his head like he was considering which question to answer first, or maybe which lie to tell.

"I'm telling you the truth," he said carefully, "because that's what your sister would want."

"But you'd rather lie?"

"It's in a vampire's nature to say and do whatever he perceives will work to his advantage. Most of the time lying soothes humans, and vampires prefer that humans are docile."

"So, it's easier to kill them?" I meant for the question to come out vicious, but it ended up sounding resigned. I was too tired and freaked-out.

He nodded.

I ran my hand through my hair, and for a second, I thought that I might let the sanity switch flip—just go crazy. It'd be easier. But that rational guy in me was too busy trying to reorder my new reality, and if I tried to turn the lights out, he'd light up some candles and get back to work. I wasn't going to lose it. Not at the moment anyhow. I had to figure this out.

I glanced over at Ennis.

"That's why she looks like that now," I said, "to attract humans, to make them easier to kill."

He didn't respond. Bending over, he tugged the leg of his jeans up, fishing a sizeable roll of cash from his boot. He tossed the wad, held together in a silver (no, platinum) clip, to me. It fell into my hands, though I'd barely gotten them up. He took a key fob from his pocket and tossed it at me too.

"Can you drive a manual?" he asked.

"I'm fourteen," I reminded him.

He raised his eyebrow.

I sighed. "The Toyota's a manual. Ennis let me drive it a couple times when no one was around."

"Go get my car," he said. "The blue one parked on the corner of Franklin and Johnson. Pull it into the garage.
3: Home Alone. Again, Movies Lie

**F** irst I moved Ennis's rusty Toyota out of the garage and onto the street.

Then I went to find Rafe's car.

The blue one. Sure. A brand-new Audi. It only sold for forty thousand more than our house. Luckily, I had a friend whose mom drove a less expensive model, so I knew how to start the thing. But I was sure I was leaving a sweaty-ass stain on the leather. Before six a.m., the neighborhood was quiet and nobody was out to accuse me of grand theft auto or driving without a license. I couldn't believe Rafe had left it parked on the street. The new-car smell was in full force when I opened the door. The stereo was silent when the engine started. I didn't see a single smudgy fingerprint on the dash or dusty footprint on the mats. It was like it had never been touched.

Three blocks and two turns should've taken a minute, but ended up taking twenty. I inched the car forward, never shifting out of first gear.

The garage connected to the kitchen, and as soon as I closed the garage door, Rafe emerged, carrying Ennis, who was wrapped head-to-toe in blankets—like a dead body.

"Open the back door," he ordered.

I did and he laid Ennis on the back seat.

"You're leaving already?" I asked, unable to hide the anxiousness from my voice.

"I have to get her away from here," he said. "The first thing she'll want to do is come home."

"So?"

"So, you have a white soul, Nico."

"What does that mean?"

He closed the door and leaned against the car, crossing his arms. He looked like the stereotypical cool guy—tall, good-looking, fit. In the movies, he would've been the douche that the protagonist was trying to steal the hot girl away from. The guy who was inexplicably successful and got laid all the time yet was a total prick. Which begged the question, how did he get so popular in the first place if he was such a jerk? But that's what happens in movies. Rafe wasn't a chode. He was an admitted killer and liar, but other than that...

"That's how a vampire chooses his victim." His tone was caustic as if speaking the truth made him irritable. "Most humans have gray souls. But yours is white, exceptionally so. The lighter the soul, the more appealing."

"So... my blood tastes better than somebody with a gray soul?"

"Vampires don't drink blood for the flavor. They drink it to keep their souls. Blood contains that which anchors a soul in a body: life, Nico. Blood is life. No life in a body, no soul."

"So, what does the color of my soul have to do with it?"

"Not color, shade. On a grayscale, dark to light and all the grays in-between," he said. "Human souls slide back and forth, growing lighter and darker. It's rare for a person to have a completely black or white soul. The vast majority fluctuate—"

"You mean, if you do a good thing, your soul gets lighter?" I tried to remember the last really good thing I'd done. I'd told Jake Peppers to shut up after he'd called some freshman girl a fat cow. That had earned me bonus points with the girl I liked, Jess, anyway.

"Not at all," he said. "There's no sense to why souls get lighter and darker. At least, none any vampire has yet to discern. And believe me, we've spent lifetimes searching for the key. There are truly malevolent people, sociopaths, serial-killers, who have dark souls, but some of the worst criminals ever caught are no darker than anyone else. And look at you, what have you done that would warrant your soul's spotlessness? But what's most unusual about you isn't that your soul is white, but that it hardly ever changes."

As he spoke his gaze grew unfocused, his expression even less readable. Maybe it was my imagination, it reminded me of how someone on a diet looks when they talk about chocolate.

"What does the shade of my soul have to do with vampires?" I asked.

"Vampires are trying to keep their souls."

I shrugged. "Okay..."

"And they do that by drinking blood."

"Yeah...?"

"A living soul," he said, "one in a living body, changes shades naturally. But a vampire's soul can't change shade. At least, not until they have blood in their body."

"Your soul changes," I said, "depending on what shade your victim's soul is?"

"It's more complicated than that because there's a delay."

"A delay?"

"I could kill you, right now," he said, far too nonchalantly, "and drink your blood, but maybe, if I hadn't, your soul would've grown darker in an hour, for no reason that anyone can tell. Then, instead, of my soul lightening, it would darken, because that's what your soul was going to do. That's why vampires watch people. They follow them for years sometimes, because their souls have patterns. They're just not always what you expect. Take your next-door neighbors, Mike and Sue."

My eyes narrowed. Had Rafe been stalking my neighbors too?

"Mike's soul lightens," he went on, "sometimes at 7:30 a.m. on Tuesdays. And Sue's soul darkens, almost always, twenty to thirty minutes after she gets home from her Monday/Wednesday spinning class. Almost. Not always. That's why it's difficult for a vampire to control the shade of his soul, and why it's important to pick and choose. It's too easy to get darker and darker if you're not assiduous."

"What does it matter?" I asked. "I thought the color of a soul has nothing do with a person's being good or bad."

"A _living_ person," he said. "But vampires are _not_ alive. You don't want to meet a vampire whose soul is too dark. Out instincts are too predatory. Our agendas are already too different from the living. The shade of a vampire's soul _does_ affect his behavior, his mind, his emotions. Our souls don't move. Your soul is like a river, fluid, filtering, absorbing, draining. Our souls are stagnant. We're ox-bows, bends in a river that have been cut off. Only when it rains or the river floods, do we have an opportunity to feel as if we're moving again—to feel human again. The effect of darkness on a vampire's soul can lead to bad things, very bad things."

"Worse than being murderers?" I snarked.

"Much worse," he said flatly. "Do you remember when I bit you? It didn't hurt, did it?"

I shrank, my ears growing hot.

He smiled a little as if he knew the source of my embarrassment.

"It could hurt, Nicolas. It could be made to hurt," he said. "And despite the fact that, yes, I am a killer, a murderer, I do care. I have a soul. I feel. I empathize. The lighter my soul, the more human I seem; the more human I feel. The darker, the less I see you as a human and the more I see you as prey. And the darker beyond that, the less I see you as prey and the more I see you as an ant. Have you ever spent an afternoon stepping on ants, destroying their hill, crushing them under your thumb? Fun, right?"

My guts twisted. I swore to be kinder to all life, even cockroaches, which made my skin crawl.

"When I first met you," he said, "your soul was so white, it was blinding. And it's consistently white. Except..."

"What?" I prompted.

He shrugged. "Your soul hasn't always been so white, just..."

His hand moved up to his chin so quickly I didn't see it happen. So, I flinched when I noticed his thumb stroking his jaw as he mused.

"But usually, it is," he murmured.

"Great," I said. "I'm a guaranteed vampire soul-bleacher, is that it?"

"Which is why you're always attracting trouble," he said, though he only seemed half-aware that he was speaking.

"Always?"

Either he didn't hear me or he was ignoring me.

"Hey. What do you mean, always?"

Supernatural blue eyes refocused on me.

"Ennis never told you..."

"Never told me what?"

He pushed off the car.

"As soon as she's able, I'll have her call work," he said. "If anyone contacts you, tell them she has the stomach flu and take a message. Don't tell anyone that you're home alone and try to act as normal as possible. I'll call someone and arrange to have that patio door fixed, but clean up the glass."

"Hold up," I said. "What didn't Ennis tell me?"

He took _my_ cell out of his pocket and held it out to me. I'd left it charging in my room.

"I put my number in," he said. "It shouldn't take long for Ennis to mark the boundaries and claim this territory. You shouldn't have to worry about any other—"

"Tell me." I was shaking, though I didn't know why. "Tell me the truth."

He opened the driver's side door and gave me a long look.

"You can ask your sister when she comes back."

"It's my parents," I blurted out before I'd thought the words through. "Were my parents killed by a vampire?"

He bowed his head. His voice fell to a whisper. "Call me, for anything, okay?"

He slid into the car and left.

But his non-answer was answer enough. My parents had been killed when I was five. They'd never caught the murder. Now I knew why. Because it had been a vampire.

The stomach flu story went over well enough with my friends and my friends' parents, who were the only ones interested in Ennis' absence. Three days in, my Spanish teacher, Señor Thompson, asked if anything was wrong. I played it off that I'd been up late, because of my sister's sickness. He seemed to buy the story. I found it disturbing how easily people accepted what I told them. It made me think of what Rafe had said, about lies soothing humans.

But the truth was, I _had_ been up late. I could hardly sleep. I was paranoid. And I started baking.

Rafe's money clip had over three grand in it, all hundreds.

I took the whole wad with me on my first trip to the grocery store, earning a look from the cashier that made me worry she was going to call the cops.

I bought peanut butter chocolate chip cookies in the package because the supply Ennis made every week was gone and I didn't know how to function without them. But the store-bought ones weren't the same. They tasted metallic. The next day after school, I picked up the brand in a tube. They were even worse, like eating raw sugar, and they didn't have the right kind of chocolate. That night, I sat alone at the kitchen table with a plate of crappy cookies before me, fighting tears. The day after, I went without. Then Saturday, the sixth day Ennis was gone, I dug out her recipe box and made the cookies myself. They turned out not quite as good as when she made them, but closer.

Jess sent a message suggesting that she might be at the skate park if I was going to be there, but I didn't respond.

Instead, I ate cookies and marathoned a show about an obsessive-compulsive detective. I fell asleep on the couch, a few feet from where my sister had been strangled to death. I guessed her soul hadn't been light enough to warrant being drained. Rafe must have been telling the truth about the soul thing, because if being a good person made a soul lighter, then Ennis would've had the whitest soul out there. She was a way better person than me, way better than most people. She worked as a public defender. She always came to my soccer matches. She always made sure there were plenty of peanut butter chocolate-chunk cookies—she never forgot.

Just before dawn, my phone rang.

I sat up as I answered. "Ennis?"

Silence.

I fumbled for the remote. I hit mute.

"Nicolas," she breathed.

I choked up. Her voice was careful, deliberate... different.

"Are you...?" I was about to say okay, but it seemed stupid.

She was a vampire and I was going to ask if she was okay?

"Nicolas, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." I wiped at the tears.

"Good," she said.

Her voice was smokier, more melodic. I hated it because I knew it was a part of the vampire. I just needed a sign that something of the old Ennis had survived. I wasn't ready to accept the possibility that I'd doomed my sister to being nothing but a murderous monster for all eternity.

"When are you coming home?" I asked.

"Soon," she said. "I miss you, Nico."

"I miss you too." My throat tightened. "I'm sorry. It's my fault, isn't it?"

"Fault?"

"Your death," I said, barely able to speak. "Your being... what you are now."

"You have nothing to apologize for," she said.

I didn't believe her, not for a second, and it made me angry. That and the other nagging thought that had been percolating in my mind. My reordering of the world couldn't continue until I had the answer.

"And what about Dad? Was that my fault?"

"Dad?"

"And Mom," I said. "They never found out who did it, but you knew, didn't you? Rafe knows."

Her tone sharpened. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing," I said. "Except my soul is vampire bait. One killed you... and one killed Mom and Dad, didn't it?"

"You listen to me," she said. "The death of your mom and our dad was completely out of your control. It was out of _my_ control. There was absolutely nothing either of us could've done to prevent what happened. Do you understand me?"

I nodded. I wanted to believe her, mainly because she sounded like her old self. More than anything, I wanted her back.

"Nicolas, do you understand?"

"Yeah," I choked out, forgetting that she couldn't see me nodding.

"Good," she said, sounding tired as if asserting her old self had been exhausting. Maybe it was. I was starting to get queasy. As much as I wanted Ennis to come home, I finally had to ask myself what I was going to get back. And I was forced to admit that whatever it was, it wouldn't be Ennis—at least, not the old Ennis.

"Are you going to school?" she asked.

"Of course," I said.

"And doing your homework?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"How was soccer practice?"

"Fine."

"What are you eating?"

"Food," I said, my teenage self reemerging to fend off the barrage of mundane questions.

"Do you have enough money?"

"Well, I have three grand in cash, but I was planning on blowing it all on drugs and prostitutes."

Another silence. I felt bad that my attitude had shown up when she was trying to make sure I was okay.

"I'll see you soon," she said. "I love you."

"I love you too," I said.

The line went dead.
4: You Can't Go Home Again

**I** bought a hunting knife off this creepy junior who always wore a black duster that stank like horse shit. I wasn't expecting another vampire attack, but... it made me feel like I had some control.

Three weeks passed before Ennis returned. I wondered what she had told her office, what had happened to all her cases. But then, with the high-stress levels of public defenders, it might not have been weird for people to abruptly check out.

When I got home from school on Friday, the house was quiet as usual.

I tossed my bag onto the table and turned to the fridge and there she was, standing where the kitchen tile met the living room hardwood.

I leapt back. My heart thrashed in my chest.

Ennis was still, but her eyes tracked me. They were green. They'd been hazel before, more brownish. Now they were vivid, emerald. Even in jeans and a white T-shirt, she was stunning. She looked taller, fitter, like a supermodel.

All I cared about was that her eyes looked alive, even if they were a different color. I was relieved there was light in them, movement. And then I got stuck on the fact that she was watching me so intensely, like Sylvester watches Tweety. The knife was in my bedroom, under my pillow.

"Where's Rafe?" I asked.

It wasn't what I'd expected to say. I'd thought there might be some hugging and maybe tears, but at the moment, I wasn't interested in getting any closer to this creature who sort of resembled my sister.

She moved to the table, tentatively, as if it took concentration for her to remember how to take two steps. Pulling out a chair, she lowered herself into it.

"Rafe," she said his name like it hurt, "couldn't come. He has his own territory."

I held onto the back of another chair, vaguely thinking I could whip it at her if it came to that.

"Why don't you sit down?" she said, again in that careful way, like English wasn't her first language. "We need to talk about things..."

I swallowed hard and tried to play it cool.

"Like... about you needing to kill people now?"

She gave me look that reminded me of the way Rafe looked at me as if they were both wondering how much of the truth I could handle.

"Yes, for one," she said tightly.

I sat down and drummed my fingers on the table.

"Do you want to kill me?" I asked when the silence had gone on too long and she hadn't moved, not even blinked, for what seemed an eternity.

She reached her hand across the table but didn't touch me. "I'd _never_ hurt you, Nico. I'll never let anyone hurt you."

Reassured by the fierce conviction in her voice, I relaxed.

"But you will kill people," I said glumly.

She pulled her hand back and looked as if she was debating on how to answer.

"Don't lie," I said. "Rafe—"

She winced like I'd hit her.

"—says that vampires lie," I pressed on. "They tell people whatever they have to so they can get what they want."

Ennis lifted her chin in a stubborn way. "Is that what _Rafe_ says?"

I waited.

"He's right," she said, "I think."

Her impassive façade crumbled then and she picked at her cuticles, just like she always had. I teared up but kept it together.

"I haven't been like this long," she said. "But I think you're right. I wanted to lie to you just now. I didn't want you to be afraid of me."

"Just tell the truth," I said, though I wasn't at all sure I wanted to hear it.

"You're right." Her tone darkened. "I won't be like _him_. Not with you, not with anyone, if I can help it... I'm not sure I _can_ help it, but I'll try. You'll help me, won't you?"

"How?"

"Remind me. Don't let me forget."

"Forget what?"

She pressed her hand to her chest. "That this is a human soul."

"Do you really have to..."—I had to face facts. After all, I was the reason she was like this—"kill people?"

She gazed at me sadly. "Yes."

I nodded, tapping my fingers harder against the table.

"Did you and Rafe have a fight or something?" I asked, just to give myself a moment away from the my-sister-the-blood-sucking-murderer thought.

Her face hardened and it was frightening.

"He's not welcome here," she said coldly. "He never was."

"Is it because he told me about Mom and Dad?"

" _What_ did he tell you?"

"He told me that I have a white soul," I said.

Her eyes narrowed as if she'd caught me in a lie.

"Can you see it?" I asked.

"Yes," she said softly.

"What does it look like?"

"It's... beautiful," she said.

"Does it make you hungry?"

She gave me that I'm-about-to-set-you-straight-young-man look that was so Ennis. Fresh tears threatened to fall. I held them at bay. But my misery got through and set up camp, a bleak army with heavy boots trampling upon my chest.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sorry I did this to you."

She was up and at my side before I could remember to be afraid. She hugged me and stroked my hair and smelled so good. I felt safe. She could've killed me right then and I would've died feeling comforted. Her touch wasn't cold either, and that, more than anything, made me bawl. I cried like a lost little kid who'd been found. And it was at that moment that I decided, no matter what she had to do, I wouldn't think of her as a monster.

At some point, she got me a tissue, a glass of water, and a plate of cookies.

"You made these?" She turned the cookie over, sniffed it, and took a small bite. "They're good."

"You can eat?" I said through my own mouthful of cookie.

She smiled fully.

Geez, no wonder Rafe had stalked her for seven years.

I had vague recollections of the time, seven years before, when Ennis had been eighteen and had dated Rafe. I don't think she'd known he was a vampire when she started seeing him. Around that same time, my parents were murdered and I was kidnapped. I remembered the woman who'd taken me. I remembered that Rafe had helped Ennis get me back from that woman and that he'd fought the woman off while Ennis had freed me. After that, Rafe had morphed into something of a hero in my mind.

But after he'd rescued me from, what I realized now was another vampire, he'd disappeared. Except he'd been around the whole time, watching us, watching Ennis.

I was a little disappointed that he hadn't returned with her and that Ennis seemed so angry at him. Sure, he was a smug pretty-boy. But he'd saved me, twice. I owed him some gratitude.

She ate the whole cookie and straightened out her face into a more serious expression.

"We have to leave," she said.

"Huh?"

She looked at me grimly. "We can't stay here."

"What are you talking about?"

"For one thing," she said, "I don't have a job anymore."

"Can't you get another one?"

"Not in this district. Too many people know me. Too many people would see how much I've changed."

I was doing my best not to brat it up, but I was pissed. I didn't want to leave my friends, my school, my soccer team.

"And,"—she took a deep breath—"he'll come back."

"Who?"

She arched one of her perfect eyebrows at me.

"You mean, Rafe?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. " _Him_."

"If you're not into him, tell him to piss off."

"It's not that simple." She folded her hands neatly on the table, the same way she had when she'd given me the sex talk. Which she'd done when I was ten. She'd had all these books and pamphlets. She'd tried to make it very clinical. But mostly it had been awkward.

Once more, my selfish anger got the better of me. "What's wrong with him? You're a vampire, he's a vampire. He saved you, sort of. He saved me, twice."

She studied me. "You like him," she said as if I'd told her _I_ was the blood-sucking murderer.

My ears started to burn again. "What? No."

"I mean," she said, "you like having him around."

I shrugged. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. I just don't get why you're upset at him..." And then a thought came to me. "Is it because he couldn't save you for real?"

Her face was expressionless. I hated that she could hide her emotions so completely now; it wasn't like her.

"And I don't understand why you're worried about him coming back," I said. "He tried to warn us. You sent him away. You freaked out on him. Why didn't you take us away when he warned us?"

"I was going to," she said. "But seeing him again... If I'd had another day or two, I might've been able to get my head together enough to get out of town."

"So, Rafe's a jerk, or what?" I said.

"He is what he is," she said. "And it's dangerous."

"More dangerous than what you are?"

She didn't answer.

"I know it's messed up," I said, "that he was stalking you or whatever. But he helped us, I mean, before, he helped us."

Her gaze fell to her hands.

"He helped get me back from the woman who kidnapped me, right? She was a vampire, wasn't she?"

"Yes," she said, so softly I barely heard her.

"He killed her, didn't he?"

Her jaw flexed. "Yes, he did."

"I get that you wouldn't want to see him after that," I said. "You know, being that he was... what he is. But you haven't dated anybody since then, Ennis. Not even once."

She continued to stare at her hands impassively.

I ground my teeth.

"He cares about you," I said, feeling weird saying it.

She looked back at me finally. "You're the only one that I've ever cared about. That hasn't changed."

"You think he'll hurt me?"

"He's a vampire, Nico. A murderer."

"If he wanted to hurt me, he could've done it when you were dead," I reasoned. "He's been stalking you for seven years, he knew where we were. He could've nabbed me at any time. Is that what you think? That he's just after my white soul?"

"It's what he was after seven years ago."

I felt like she'd smacked me.

She was somber, watching me in that new intense way that sent a prickling shiver down my back.

"That was why he started dating me," she said, "to get to you."

"Did he tell you that?"

" _She_ told me," Ennis said, meaningfully.

"You mean the vampire who kidnapped me?"

"He knew her," she said. "That was how she found you, because of him."

"She could've been lying."

"She wasn't lying."

"But—"

"Forget about Rafe. He's going to stay away from you, from both of us."

Rational Guy was working at break-neck speed to deal with this information. Rafe, my would-be hero, had wanted to kill me.

"But if he'd wanted to kill me," I said, "then why didn't he? You were dead. He drank my blood to give it to you, to make you a vampire. He could've killed me then, taken all my blood for himself. He didn't. He left me alive and saved you."

Her brow knitted. I had to admit, it was good to out-maneuver my sister once in a while. Being a lawyer, she tended to win arguments.

"Maybe he wanted my soul seven years ago," I pressed, "but that's not what he wants now."

Her brow smoothed and her voice turned harsh, the I'm-putting-my-foot-down tone.

"I'm sorry, Nico," she said, "but we're leaving."
5: Cops and Vampire Mojo

**I** t sucked. I didn't want to go, but I wasn't given an option.

In the month I had to prepare, I tried to bring a heavy check on my attitude. It wasn't like Ennis wanted to be a vampire, to give up her house, her job, the few people she called friends. Then again, I couldn't shake my irritation at her refusal to discuss Rafe. I don't think it's a healthy thing for a teenage boy to sit around brooding about his sister's love life. But I had the feeling that our leaving had more to do with him than it did with Ennis's new un-lifestyle. The more I thought about it, the more sympathy I felt for the guy. And I was keeping my fingers crossed that he would show before we made it out of town.

Ennis spent the time getting the house ready to sell. She dyed her hair brown and went out on the cloudiest days to say goodbye. She spent a lot of time on the computer, on the phone, and with her files, which wasn't anything unusual. But she'd go away, for days sometimes, in the middle of the week. I knew she had to, but I didn't like to think about it. And I was doing a good job of it until the cops knocked on the door.

Early evening, Saturday, I'd been at a soccer tournament all day and had just finished a shower. Only a week left of school and then we would leave. Ennis didn't know where we would go yet, or she did and wasn't telling me. Boxes piled up in the hallways. Flyers were posted all over town, advertising our furniture for sale.

She was making dinner, pizza, homemade crust, and sauce. Lately, she'd gone out of her way to cook, to make sure I did my homework, to grill me about how my day went and how I was feeling. I wanted to have a good attitude, but she was making it incredibly difficult.

I was on the couch, staring at the TV, not really watching when a hard, clipped knock on the door disrupted my zombie trance.

"Nico?" Ennis called from the kitchen.

I groaned in complaint and then hefted my limp body off the couch.

I opened the door and stared, in a way that I can imagine looked pretty freaked out.

Two state troopers stood on our stoop—shiny black shoes and tight crew cuts.

"Good evening." The taller one offered a restrained smile as if he wanted to reassure me. The other one glared like he was hoping I would shit my pants.

"I'm Officer Kaslowski and this is Officer Wojek," the tall one continued. "Does an Ennis Murphy live at this residence?"

I took a step back, on the brink of panic, when Ennis appeared behind me, drying her hands on a dish towel. She put her hand on my shoulder and, suddenly, I was okay.

"I'm Ennis Murphy," she said pleasantly. "Is there something wrong, officers?"

Kaslowski, the taller one, had gray in his blondish hair and deep lines on his face. Wojek was darker, shorter and stockier, closer in age to Ennis. Both were wearing wedding bands. And I watched them both get hard-ons as soon as she appeared. Not that I actually saw it, but I knew.

Kaslowski cleared his throat. Wojek blushed.

"Nico," she said. "Why don't you set the table for dinner?" She gave me a nudge toward the kitchen. "Would you gentlemen like to come in?"

Of course, they wanted to come in. I slunk to the kitchen, head filled with all the dirty implications of the words "come in."

"We have a few questions for you, Ms. Murphy," Kaslowski said, once the officers were seated in the living room. I could see them, as I moved plates from the cabinet to the table. The warm aromas of yeasty bread and melting cheese filled the air, but there was another, more powerful scent too, and it was coming from my sister.

"Concerning?" she asked.

"We're investigating a homicide," Wojek said, in a manner that showed how important he felt.

"Oh, no," Ennis said. "Someone I know?"

"Well," Kaslowski said, "that's what we're trying to determine."

"Do you know a man by the name of Rick Tiebold?"

I held my breath, hoping she'd say no and that would be the end of it.

"Of course, I do," she said readily. "I mean, I know of him. How could I not?"

"Have you had any contact with him?"

"Not that I can recall," she said. "Are you telling me Rick Tiebold's dead?"

I lingered next to the kitchen counter, just out of view.

"You work for the Public Defender's Office?" Kaslowski asked.

"Until recently," she said. "I quit about a month ago."

"Why is that?" Wojek asked.

"A number of reasons," she said. "As I'm sure you gentlemen know, working for the state isn't the most glamorous job."

The officers chuckled.

"And are you working now?" Kaslowski asked like he was chatting her up at a bar.

"I'm looking, but I have plenty of vacation time and there are still some cases I'm consulting on," she said. "I hadn't heard that Rick Tiebold was dead though. The DA is filing the paperwork for the retrial as we speak, isn't he?"

"That's what we hear," Kaslowski said.

"I can't believe it hasn't hit the news yet," she said.

"No one realized he was missing," Kaslowski said. "He'd been living on his mother's property. She was in the hospital and when he hadn't come to check on her, she contacted the police. I believe it was on this morning's news."

"I must have missed it," she said. "Guess I've gotten too used to living without an alarm clock."

They all laughed. I grimaced, my stomach clenching. They weren't buying her flirting, were they? It was all so transparent and contrived.

"And why is it that I get the pleasure of your company today?" she asked.

"Well..." Kaslowski sounded reluctant to change the tone of the conversation.

"A witness reported seeing a green Toyota parked off the road, not far from Tiebold's property. He noted the license plate because he thought it was odd," Wojek said. "The car being parked where it was and the fact he'd never seen it before."

"The license plate number he gave matched yours," Kaslowski said as if he was sorry to bring it up.

"Was this on Wednesday?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Wojek said.

"Well, yeah, I was hunting morels," she said. "I drove down to the state park and didn't have any luck, so I followed the river and found a place to pull off. Those gravel roads are so narrow, and let me tell you, jackpot. I'm making morel pizza right now. It should be ready in a few minutes. Can I interest you two in a slice?"

And that was it. Kaslowski and Wojek didn't ask any more questions. She fed them and sent them home with bags of morels, which she had picked during the week, and they left. I knew they wouldn't come looking for her again. The whole thing left a terrible taste in my mouth.

"Did you?" I asked.

She stood at the sink, rinsing the dishes.

"Did I what?" she asked, not looking at me.

"You know what."

"Do you remember who Rick Tiebold is?" she asked.

"Should I?"

"He was accused of paying his cousin to murder a mentally handicapped twelve-year-old girl because she was going to testify that he'd sexually abused her," Ennis said.

"Yeah?"

"He was convicted, but it was declared a mistrial when it was uncovered that the prosecution failed to provide the defense with crucial evidence. Tiebold was set free."

"So, you killed him," I said, not letting her distract me from the point.

She bowed her head.

"Is that what you're going to do?" I said. "Kill bad guys? Is that how you're going to make yourself feel better about what you have to do?"

"Does it make you feel better?" she asked.

"What if he was innocent?"

"He wasn't innocent," she said.

"But what if he was?" I pushed, not sure why I was trying to make this difficult for her. "And isn't it dangerous for you? I mean, for your soul? Isn't that what this is about? Saving your soul?"

"And what's going to save my soul, Nico?"

She had that same look Rafe had, that impossibly patient look that irked me and made me feel like I was a child.

"Rafe said," I said his name just to get a reaction out of her and it worked—she cringed, "that vampires have to be careful about who they kill. That they have to watch their victims. They have to be sure that they don't let their souls get too dark."

"Rafe was very honest with you," she said it as if she resented it, "wasn't he?"

"Does it bother you?" I asked. "Is that why you're pissed at him? Because he told me what happened to Mom and Dad? About how it was my fault?"

"It wasn't your fault." She gripped my upper arms, staring hard at me. "You have to believe that, Nico."

And for a moment, looking into her ultra-green eyes, I _did_ believe her. It was instant. One second, I was a guilt-ridden wreck, and the next, I was calm and accepting.

Weird. I was fine. I mean, I really felt fine.

And then I snapped out of it.

"Don't do that!" I tore away from her and she shrank back.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to, honestly."

"You hypnotized me or something," I spat. "You used vamp mojo on me."

"It was an accident," she said.

"I don't care! Don't do that shit!"

"I won't," she said. "I'll try not to, I'm sorry."

"Is that what you did to the cops?" I moved away from her, seeing her again, more as the vampire and less as my sister, and hating her for making me see her that way. "You can just do that, whenever you want? To get whatever you want?"

"Nico," she said, apologetic, but leaning toward stern.

I wasn't ready to let her turn back into my sister yet. I couldn't really hate my sister. But I could hate a vampire. And I had some serious anger that needed a target.

"No," I cut in. "I don't want to hear it! This whole thing is too screwed up! I don't even know why I'm staying with you. You're not even alive! You don't even have a pulse!"

"That's not true." The more upset I got, the more even her tone became.

"Don't lie!"

"I'm not."

She moved quickly. One moment by the sink, the next in front of me, pressing my hand to her chest. My own pulse was racing, so it took me a second to feel it, but it was there, a heartbeat. One thump, and then seconds later, another. And then nothing for almost a minute and then it happened again.

"You see." She released my hand.

"I don't get it," I said. "You're dead. Rafe said—"

"Does every sentence have to start with those words?" she asked.

"But—"

"I'm not alive," she said. "Not the way you are. But I have life in me. And it needs to move. The only way it can do that is by circulating. My body's changed, Nico. It's... mutated to do what it has to do to keep my soul here. My heart performs the basic function it performed when I was alive, it moves blood. It's just... adapted."

"To move other people's blood," I said.

"Yes. Is that what you want to hear?" she said, turning cold. "You want me to give you all the details? You want me to talk about it casually at the dinner table? Or do you want me to go to confession? Is that what you want? You think that I need to repent?"

I backed away from her again. "I don't care what you do."

"There are things we need to accept about this, Nico," she said. "There are things _you_ need to accept."

"I do," I said miserably. "I'm not trying... It's just... I'm the one who did this to you. It's my fault that you were killed in the first place."

"I told you—"

"Yeah, I know," I muttered, still moving. "Not my fault. Whatever."

"Nico, we need to talk about this," she called after me.

"You talk." I pushed out the door into the garage, "I'm going for a walk."

I grabbed my skateboard and took off down the driveway and into the street—away.
6: My Hero

**T** wilight was dusky and warm. Summer was close. I didn't think about anything, not for a while. I just wanted to get out.

She could say what she wanted, but I knew the truth. None of this would've happened if it hadn't been for me and my stupid white soul. Mom and Dad would still be alive. Ennis wouldn't be a vampire. And we would all be living our lives like every other oblivious family I glimpsed through the living room windows, sitting in front of the tube, ignorant to the fact that vampires were real or that one might be watching them, monitoring every color fluctuation of their souls.

I skated out of the neighborhood to the elementary school. I practiced grinding on the handicap rails, though I wasn't wearing my helmet. I could've crashed and done some serious cranial damage. I could've been busted and had another visit from the cops. The city was cracking down on skaters, ever since the skate park had been built. They wanted to mitigate their liability. Anyone who skated at the park and got hurt couldn't sue the city. Signs were posted all over the place. I didn't want to hurt myself, but I was already hurt and I wasn't sure how to stop it.

I didn't linger at the school long. I skated toward the high school. My friend, Aaron, lived near there. He smoked a lot of weed and it occurred to me that it might be time for me to join in, but when I skated down his block, I kept going.

I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to see anybody. What was the point? In a week, I'd be moving and I couldn't tell anybody where we were going. People were already skirting me, giving me weird looks. I'd heard that Jess was dating a junior, and she was telling her friends I was a douche for blowing her off. I hadn't meant to blow her off, I'd just gotten distracted. Not that it mattered anymore.

It was dark by the time I stopped at the bridge. Cars full of happy, unsuspecting kids, reveling in the freedom of Saturday night, drove by like they always did. Why did I feel like things should be different?

The bike path curved under the bridge, along the river. Bums were known to hang out there. The slope was always littered with graffiti and empty beer cans. But apparently, they had better places to be than under a bridge on a beautiful night. I scrambled up the broken concrete blocks into the shadows. The sound of traffic echoed around me, tires bumping overhead rhythmically. I chucked an empty forty-ounce bottle toward the sluggish black water. It shattered on the bank.

I wondered what it would be like to sleep there. I couldn't imagine it, not with all the noise. How did homeless people manage it in winter? When there was a foot of snow on the ground and the wind chill was below zero?

"Thinking of taking up employment as a troll?"

I tensed, squinting into the shadows. A tall figure on the path below took a few steps closer.

"Rafe?"

"You'd better hope so," he said. "I'd hate to think what a transient vampire would do with a fluffy white bunny like you."

I started to scoot down the slope of broken concrete.

"That's close enough," he said when I'd made it halfway. "If you get much closer, she'll be able to smell it."

I could just make out his face. He wore a leather jacket. His hands were tucked comfortably into his dark slacks.

"She knew you'd come back," I said down to him.

"Did you doubt it?" he asked

"No," I said. "But she doesn't want to see you."

"I know," he said as though it didn't bother him.

"We're moving," I said.

"I know."

"It's because she wants to get away from you," I told him, though I didn't know that for a fact.

He seemed to consider this. "I think she knows that's not possible."

"Then why are we leaving town? We're probably going to leave the state."

He was silent for another long moment.

"Do you know that for sure?" he asked.

"No," I said. "She won't tell me where we're going."

"She'd be foolish to forfeit this territory," he said as if thinking aloud.

"I don't think she cares." I folded my arms on top of my knees. "She's pissed at you."

"I know," he said.

"Way to go," I muttered.

"She has good reason to be," he said.

"Because you led that vamp chick to me and my parents?" I asked.

I wanted to gauge his reaction, but his shadowy expression never changed.

"They were my parents," I said. "I'm not pissed at you about it."

He edged back from me, deeper into the shadows.

"How much do you remember about what happened?" His voice echoed around me. It was like hers, evocative without trying. But I didn't feel like Rafe was working his vamp powers on me. Maybe I couldn't tell because I didn't know him as well.

"Not a lot," I said. "I remember the warehouse, and the woman, being in her car. I remember how she smelled, soapy perfume and sweet, like gummy bears. I remember you fighting with her."

"And your parents...?"

"That vamp chick killed them, right? To get to me?"

"Ennis told you that?"

"No, but... That chick was going to kill us, wasn't she? You killed her instead, didn't you?"

"Yes," he said. "I killed her to protect you and your sister."

"Is it dangerous?" I asked.

"Yes," he said promptly.

"Do you even know what I was asking about?"

"No," he said. "But I'm sure the answer is yes."

"I meant about Ennis leaving her territory," I said. "Why do vamps need territory?"

"The same reasons any animal needs it," he said. "Predators in particular."

"So, vamps never share territory?"

His tone was gentle but loud enough to hear over the din of the sporadic traffic overhead and the river trickling along lazily behind him.

"They can," he said. "in certain circumstances. There are places where it's easier, large cities. Dense population centers."

"Not here," I said.

"No," he said. "Not here. Too many Rick Tiebolds would draw attention."

"You know—?"

Though his face was shadowed, it sounded like he was smiling. "It's like her."

I licked my lips, my hands curled. "Seven years ago, when you dated my sister, she didn't know you were a vampire, did she?"

"Not at first."

"Was it me?" I asked, my breath thin. "Were you after me?"

His tone tightened. "Yes."

I felt queasy, but it was from a fear that I no longer really felt.

"Why didn't you just kill me?" I asked. "Why date my sister?"

"You were a child," he said. "It's not a good habit to kill children. Not good for the soul."

"But you were watching me. Biding your time?"

"Something like that," he murmured. "You were in my territory. I had no reason to rush. And I was curious. I'd never seen a soul as white as yours."

"So, you dated Ennis to get closer to me?"

"Yes," he said. "I told you. Vampires don't know what the key is to the soul's constitution, but that doesn't mean we don't look for it."

"So... are you still waiting until I'm old enough? So, you can kill me?" I asked, taut, trying to sound braver than I felt.

"Not anymore," he said.

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"You don't."

I reminded myself to breathe. "Why aren't you going to kill me?"

"Why do you think?" He sounded disappointed, but I couldn't tell if it was because of my questions or something else. He could've been lying, but I didn't feel like he was. Not that my gut instinct meant much.

"You said you only dated her because of me," I said.

"I watched you for two years," he said. "I watched how your parents were preoccupied. How they took your sister for granted, her intelligence, her reliability, her generosity of spirit."

My jaw tightened. I didn't like him talking about my parents, let alone insulting them. Even if what he said was true.

"She took care of you, Nico," he said. "She got you up in the morning, fed you, took you to school, picked you up afterward. She read to you at night. Your mother was on-call, working overtime every week. Your father traveled. He was gone three or four days a week, sometimes. Ennis was never a teenager, not like most teenagers today. She reminded me of how teenagers used to be—more like adults."

Not only was I responsible for my parents' deaths and Ennis's, but I'd also thwarted her having a normal adolescence.

Great.

"I wanted to understand your soul," he said. "To do that, I had to understand her. She was the most important person in your life. She was the person _most_ in your life."

"You used her," I said.

"Yes."

"But you love her now."

"Yes."

"What changed?"

"You were kidnapped," he said.

"The vampire chick," I said. "The one you led to us."

"She was following me," he sighed. "I'd left her and she wasn't happy. I knew she'd been breaching my territory, but I'd never caught her."

"So, I was kidnapped. Why'd that suddenly make you into a decent guy?"

"It didn't. Not. At. All." He said this as if he wanted to drill it into my brain. "It's what it made your sister. I've seen people face loss; I've seen them fight for their lives, for the lives of others. Your sister was scared. She was in terrible emotional pain because of your parents, but she never turned back. Maybe you don't realize how easy it is to be crushed by grief. Grief and fear are deadly powerful forces. Your sister faced them and she survived, and she got you back. That's no small feat, little brother."

"But you helped her."

He ducked his head.

"I didn't know what I was going to do with Salome..." He must have seen my blank expression because he clarified. "The vampire chick that kidnapped you. She took you to get my attention. She hadn't expected Ennis to be involved. And I would've preferred that she hadn't been, but the situation wasn't under my control. When Ennis found out the truth... I thought I would have to..." He cleared his throat. "I took her with me to find you. By the time we did, I loved her."

"And what would've happened if you hadn't had a change of heart?"

"I would've killed you both."

My chest constricted painfully. "My hero."

"I never claimed to be a good guy, Nico," he said.

"Why not?" I said. "You lie all the time anyway, right?"

"Not as much lately, it would seem," he said.

"What will happen," I asked, "if Ennis leaves her territory?"

"That depends on where she goes," he said. "If she moves to a big city, it will be difficult for her to protect you on her own."

"And if she goes somewhere else?"

"She'll have to find the local vampire and kill them to claim the territory," he said, "if she's not killed first. Some vampires are transient. They steal through territories, picking off people here and there. It's a dangerous lifestyle. And if they try to stay for more than a few days, they'll be asking for a fight. And some vampires just want a fight."

I thrust my fingers into my hair, which was getting long, hanging over my ears and eyebrows. It was thick and dusty blond, like my mom's. I remembered the way my mom's hair used to smell. That fruity shampoo scent. Ennis had hair like her mother's, our dad's first wife, ruddy brown and straight. But the fact that we had different moms had never made a difference. At least not to me. Ennis had only been a few years older than I was now when she'd started taking care of me. Rafe loved her because she'd stepped up and been brave when it had really counted. I couldn't help but think that she might've been better off if she'd wimped out and never saved me. If she'd left Rafe and Salome to fight over me and stayed at home, she wouldn't have a family, but she wouldn't be a vampire either.

"It seems dumb," I said, "for us to move."

Rafe was quiet.

"Can't you talk to her?" I said. "Can't you explain it to her?"

"She's aware of the risk," he said, distant.

"Can't you apologize or something?" I said, once again feeling uncomfortable meddling in my sister's personal business.

"I have," he said. "Many times. But some things..."

"Can't you try again?" I said.

"When it comes to me, your sister doesn't think very clearly. And after what happened... I can't blame her for hating me. I don't expect that she will ever forgive me."

"What do you mean?"

As far as I could tell, Ennis was thinking as clearly as ever. She seemed uber-rational as of late. She hardly showed any emotions at all.

"If she's planning on taking you out of this territory to get away from _me_ ," he said, "then she's allowing her anger to supersede your best interests, which means she's thinking more of hurting me than protecting you."

"But she said—"

"I'm not going to kill you, Nico," he said. "Do you believe me?"

I hesitated. "Yeah, but you could be lying."

"I'm not," he said. "But it doesn't matter if I am, because it would be much easier for her to protect you here, in her territory, than anywhere else, even from me. If she takes you into another territory, then every vampire in the area is going to take note of her scent. And if they notice her, they'll notice you. Few vampires live with humans. Even fewer tote one around like a pet."

"You're saying that she's so pissed at you that she's being—"

"Reckless," he said.

"I was going to stay stupid."

He lapsed into a brooding silence and I might've joined him, except I was having trouble breathing.

"Calm down," he said.

And I did.

"Don't do that!" I clenched my hands, pushing my knuckles against the rough concrete slope beneath me. "If I want to freak out, let me!"

"Normally, I would," he said, "but I need you to be the cooler head."

"Cooler than you?" I said, unable to imagine anyone being any cooler than Rafe unless they were really, truly dead.

"Cooler than Ennis," he said. "Whatever her outward appearance, you have to realize that inside she's experiencing incredible turmoil. I never should've allowed her to come back so soon. Not with everything she's been through, and not considering her... peculiar circumstance."

"You mean me," I said. "The fluffy white bunny. The pet."

"It's unusual for a vampire to maintain their previous relationships," he said. "It's traumatic enough, becoming a vampire. But to then watch as the lives of your loved ones continue, to watch them age, to watch them have families, to watch those families die."

"If it upsets vampires so much, why don't they make their families into vampires too?"

"Do you want to be a vampire, Nico?" he asked a sinister bite in his voice.

I hesitated.

"Your answer should be no," he said. "You don't want to be a killer, do you?"

My stomach turned. "No."

"Neither does your sister," he said. "But it's either kill or die. She may have a human soul, but her body is a vampire's. Her instincts are a vampire's. The conflict has led more than one to choose death. As long as she keeps her soul, it will cause her incomprehensible anguish. And yet, she's driven to hold on to it."

"I guess that's what you call irony," I said.

"It's what you call hell."

I hung my head. "I should've let her die."

"I'm the one who should've let her die," he whispered.

"But it's not all bad, is it?" I said. "You love her. That's a good thing, right?"

"Is it?" he said. "I could love her for centuries and she may never forgive me."

Centuries. That was a weird thought. It was weird to think that Ennis would live for centuries and I would be fortunate to live for one. And it gave me a glimpse of what Rafe meant by hell.

"Okay," Rational Guy in me said, taking control. "What are we going to do now?"
7: I Kick Death In The...

**E** nnis knew I'd seen him. And I knew that Rafe was right about her not showing what she really felt, because she sat down on the couch and didn't blink for a freakishly long time. Her expression remained perfectly blank, even though I knew she was furious. I sank down in the recliner and watched her.

"What did he say to you?" she asked finally.

"He said we shouldn't leave," I said, doing my best to hide my own emotional implosion.

Her tone turned dark. "He would."

"It's dangerous," I said, "for me. If you want to protect me, we should stay in your territory."

"Where he can find us," she said. "You can't trust him, Nico. You can't trust anything he says. He's a liar. And—"

"I know that, because he told me," I said.

"He told you because it suited him for you to know," she said. "You don't understand—" She cut off her own sentence and stood up abruptly. "You can't trust anyone, Nico."

"Not even you?" I said.

When she looked at me then, I thought she might tell me not to trust her. There was a fleeting turmoil evident in her eyes. And I had to look away because it was like having a boulder dropped on my chest.

She knelt next to me, placing her hand over mine.

"I'll find a place for us, Nico," she said. "A safe place, where he won't find us and where you can live your life. I will, okay?"

I nodded, to reassure her. But I knew Rafe would find us.

I knew because I was going to tell him.

I knew nothing about vampire territories, where they started or stopped or how to tell. From what Rafe told me, it had something to do with scent, but I didn't want to think about my sister roaming the state, peeing on trees like a dog.

The farther we drove from what had once been home, the more I worried we were encroaching on another vamp's turf. I'd promised Rafe that as soon as we got where it looked like we might stay, I would call the number he'd made me memorize and that I'd do it without Ennis's knowledge.

I didn't feel great about colluding with Rafe, especially since Ennis had a massive chip on her shoulder with his name carved in it. Then again, I wasn't entirely sure why she was running from him. As far as I could tell, everything he'd told me was true. He was worried about her and I was too. So, for the time being, we were both on the same page.

I'd tried to convince him to talk to her, but he'd said that we needed to let her follow through with her plan. Because it was possible she might not leave her territory but simply move to another town within its borders. It would be the smart thing to do, he'd said.

The house wasn't sold yet and we'd left a lot of stuff in the garage and out on the curb. She sold the Toyota and shredded tons of paperwork. We rented a U-Haul and drove through the night to a motel, where I was forced to watch hours of crap daytime TV while she slept. I wondered why vampires needed to sleep at all, and I wished Rafe was around so I could ask him. I didn't want to ask Ennis, and I wasn't sure she could tell me anyway.

Two days after we left, we crossed the state line. I chewed on my lip, trying to keep my questions from spilling out. Soon, an orange glow appeared in the darkness ahead of us. We pulled up to a chain link fence that surrounded rows of concrete buildings. A storage facility. A motion light came on as she leaned out the window to punch the code into the gate box. The brash white light made her skin look translucent.

"What are we doing?" I asked as the gate rolled open.

"Lightening up," she said.

"If you get any lighter you'll be invisible," I muttered.

She laughed, easing the tension that had kept us nearly silent the whole trip.

"Who builds a storage place out in the middle of nowhere?"

She inched the truck through the rows of buildings, their doors gradually increased in size, from that of a front door to a garage door. "The remoter the location, the more secure people feel about it."

"Like NORAD?"

"Exactly." she grinned again. "There it is, 45."

She pulled the truck up alongside the blue door with a white 45 stenciled on it. She got out the truck. I followed more slowly. The night was cloudy and breezy, damp like it might rain.

"We're going to leave all our stuff here?" I scoped the lot from one end to the other. Beyond the chain-link fence, it was all darkness. It looked like a great place to dump a few thousand bodies.

"Not all of it." She punched a code into a keypad. A low beeping noise filled the eerie silence. "Take what you absolutely need. We'll be back for the rest."

"When?" I asked.

"Soon."

"How soon?"

She gave me a tight smile. "As soon as we can."

She went to the back of the U-Haul. We'd loaded it in one afternoon. Neither of us had a whole lot of stuff. But it still seemed like we'd left most of it behind. Now we had to leave more of it in some serial killer's backyard.

For no reason I could articulate, I got dizzy and slid down to the ground.

She was there as soon as my butt hit the pavement, her cool palm on my sweaty neck. "What's wrong?"

"I can't." I put my head between my knees, trying to catch my breath. "I can't do this."

She smoothed my hair back from my temple. "Go lie down in the cab. I'll take care of this."

"It's my fault—" I gulped for air. "You're a vampire. Mom and Dad are dead." I squeezed my eyes shut, the more I resisted, the faster my pulse raced, the harder it was for me to breathe. "It's never going to stop."

Her mouth came close to my ear.

"Sleep."

I woke up well rested, pissed off, and in the passenger seat of a sedan. The interior was clean and smelled new. The wipers slid back and forth in a soft rhythmic beat, rain strumming against the car. Enough gray light soaked through the clouds that I could make out the landscape, fences, and fields. But that didn't mean much. We could've been anywhere.

Ennis kept her eyes on the road, driving with a mechanical focus.

"I got rid of your phone," she said.

"What?"

"I'll buy you another one," she said.

"You can't do that." I twisted in my seat so I could shout at her. "My numbers were in there. How am I supposed to call my friends?"

"You mean Rafe?" she asked coolly.

"I mean my friends!" I slammed my hand against the dash, except I did mean Rafe. Lately, he was the only one I thought of as a friend. I dropped back into my seat, crossing my arms and glaring out the window.

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't lie," I snapped. "You're not sorry at all. You think you can just do whatever you want. You don't care about me, about what I think—"

"That's not true," Ennis said, tone unperturbed. "Everything I'm doing is to keep you safe."

"Whatever." I clenched my teeth, trying to recall Rafe's number. But even though I'd had it memorized, it wasn't there anymore. The harder I tried to bring up the digits, the more it seemed I'd never known them. I tried to think of something else, hoping that if I wasn't concentrating so hard, the numbers would come, but they didn't.

After a few moments, Ennis said, "Are you hungry? Let's get something to eat."

The moment she mentioned food, my stomach howled as if I hadn't eaten for days.

We pulled over at a truck stop. It was getting dark again, and I wondered how I could have slept so long. Except I knew the answer—vampire mojo.

We drove to a low-slung diner attached to a truck stop beside a depressing clutch of woods. Half the lamps were burnt out, leaving big dark patches of shadow across the sprawling parking lot. The blacktop that was visible was cracked and pocked with holes. Inviting as it all was, as soon as the car stopped, I got out.

By the time I'd stormed inside, my T-shirt was drenched. The waitress gave me a dull look as I dripped on the mat. She had the mien of someone who wasn't easily put-off or impressed. Ennis slid in after me.

The waitress, who smelled like cigarettes and peppermint, seated us, barely speaking.

"You look like a freak," I said to Ennis

She'd left her jacket on and her hood up. Her face tucked deep inside.

"More than everyone else?"

I glanced around. Single guys in T-shirts and greasy-looking baseball hats: truckers. A couple of them were rough-looking, but they fit right in with the yellowed, out-of-date décor. I imagined that when one of them left, another would take his place and be indistinguishable. No one took notice of Ennis.

We ordered. Ennis ordered the same thing I did. As soon as my eggs and bacon were gone, she pushed her plate in front of me and I ate hers too.

No one looked in our direction. Even the waitress seemed to forget about us as soon as she put our plates down. I had to wave my arm above my head to get more orange juice from her.

"You're doing this," I said to her as I mopped up the bright yellow yolk with my toast. "Aren't you?"

"Doing what?"

"Making them not notice us."

"Do you want to be noticed?"

I shoved my toast into my mouth, talking with my mouth full because I knew she hated it. "Why can't you just answer my question?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm doing this."

"How?" I splattered more Tabasco on my hash browns.

She shifted in her creaky vinyl-padded seat, discomfort on her face.

I stabbed at my hash browns. "You did something to me, didn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You made me go to sleep," I said.

"You were—"

"If I need to have a panic attack, then let me," I growled. "You can't mojo all my emotions away."

"I'm sorry—"

"Did you make me forget?" I asked, deadly. I still couldn't remember Rafe's number. I wasn't a numbers genius, but I'd had that number memorized backward and forward.

Stone-face. "I don't know what you mean."

"You're lying," I hissed. "While I was sleeping, you made me forget Rafe's number... didn't you!"

She leaned across the table. "Keep your voice down."

I pushed my plate toward her and stalked out of the restaurant, drawing everyone's attention and nearly knocking over a couple that was coming in. I shouldered past them and into the rain. I couldn't believe that she'd worked her mojo on me again after she'd said she wouldn't.

I kicked the tires of the car, slamming my fist into its shiny new hood, giving it a good dent and hurting my hand.

"Nico, get in the car," Ennis said in a taut voice.

I spun around, ready to cuss her out, but came face-to-face with a beautiful blonde. She smiled at me and all my rage melted away. Though she was right in front of me, I couldn't focus on any distinguishing features; I only knew she was gorgeous.

"No, don't, Nico," the blonde said in a voice like a phone-sex operator. She ran her finger along my cheek. "So pretty."

"Nico!" It took all of my will to tear my gaze from the blonde.

The moment I did, I was struck by cold dread. Behind the blonde, an older man, his tight curls speckled with gray, his body like a giant dark wall.

"Get in the car," Ennis repeated from behind the giant.

When the male vampire smiled, I wanted to drop to the ground and beg for my life. The blonde, who smelled like peanut butter chocolate chunk cookies, was pressing close to me, pinning me between her and the front of the car.

"I can't," I squeaked.

"Yes, you can," Ennis replied, firmly. "Go ahead. It's okay."

I inched away from the blonde, though a part of me didn't want to and another part of me was sure she would try to stop me. But neither she nor the giant moved. Except for their eyes, which were tracking me.

Somehow, I opened the car door and got in. The click of the door closing broke my terror-trance and that's when the fight started.

Ennis lunged at the older man, knocking him back. The blonde rushed at Ennis and the two spun into the shadows.

The rain streaming down the windshield blurred everything outside. And though the orange floodlight overhead was dim, every time they stopped, I got a glimpse. Perched on the edge of my seat, gripping the dashboard, I couldn't help but wonder what I'd do if Ennis lost.

Through the gloom, a flash of metal. Someone had a knife, but the fight had moved to the dark edge of the parking lot, and I couldn't tell who was who.

And then I remembered the hunting knife. It was in my bag. I searched in the backseat, but my backpack wasn't there. Ennis must've put it in the trunk. Groping under the driver's seat, I pulled the trunk latch. I squinted through the foggy window. Everything was a rain-smeared blur.

Though it was only a few seconds, it felt like hours passed as I sat there, debating. Being locked in a car wasn't going to help me if Ennis lost. If these two managed to kill my sister, I wasn't going to be mojoed into lying quietly onto their dinner plates either.

Barely breathing, I shoved open the door and raced to the back of the car. Out of the corner of my eyes, I was aware of movement. Grunts and thuds of blows against bodies mingled with the constant sibilant rush and dull drumming of the rain. How was Ennis faring? In the back of my mind, I feared it wasn't well. She'd only been a vampire for a little while and the male vamp had looked old and strong.

The trunk was packed.

Soaked and sweating, my skin buzzing from the adrenaline, I tore through bags and boxes. I froze briefly when someone howled—followed by a long, low moan that made my throat crawl.

Then I resumed my search with redoubled vigor.

Yeah, I was scared, but I was also angry. I was enraged at everything, at everyone. I was sick of feeling like a pawn, like everything was happening around me, to me. That I had no control.

My backpack was stuffed into the farthest reaches of the trunk, lodged behind Ennis's heavy suitcase. I seized the strap and yanked so hard I ripped a hole in the nylon, but the bag tumbled free.

Just as I dug out the knife out, a hand clamped onto my shoulder and spun me around.

The giant grabbed my throat with one hand and lifted me off my feet. His inhuman colorless eyes inspected me coolly.

"Drop the knife," he said.

And I did.

"I'd like you to be afraid," he said.

And I was.

His fangs appeared and I whimpered. I wanted to curl up into a ball. I was shaking and crying. I felt utterly weak and alone and defenseless.

It sucked.

Looking back at him, I saw death. I was face-to-face with that specter of unknowing that had haunted me for as long as I could remember. That inevitable moment that lurked in my nightmares, waking me in the middle the night, filling me with terror and panic so that I tore at the walls as if I could dig a hole in them and hide. After all of those sleepless nights, all the grief and anger since my parents' deaths, all the counseling and therapy...

All it took to end my fear of death was to look it straight in its cold, pallid eyes.

It happened just like that.

One second, I was terrified, about to wet myself. And the next, it was as if I'd been flipped over and this whole other side of me appeared. I wasn't afraid anymore.

I relaxed.

And the vamp, the face of death, hesitated. When the new side of me saw death falter, I calmly decided that if death wasn't going to come at me full-force, then it was not yet time to die.

So, I kicked him in the groin.

He grunted and dropped me as he doubled over. I stumbled back into the open trunk, knocking my head on the lid.

He looked up at me, baring his fangs. There was a flurry of movement, too fast for me to see, and then he was on the ground, his neck skewed at an unnatural angle, my knife plunged deep into his chest, blood seeping over his plaid shirt. Ennis stood over him, deep scratches across her face, blood heavy on her shirt. Her eyes darkened as her vamp features receded.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"I told you to stay in the car." She hefted the vamp up without so much as a passing scowl of strain.

"What are you going to do with him?" I asked.

She gazed at me steadily. "I'm going to cut off his head. Once the blood's gone from his body, he'll turn to dust. So, will she." She nodded out to the scraggly trees edging the parking lot, presumably where she'd left blondie.

"But what if someone finds them before that?"

"After they're decapitated, it won't take long." She eyed the trunk, which looked as if it was in the process of purging all its contents. "Clean up your mess," she said. 
8: Horror Show Home Sweet Home

**"W** ho'd you kill?" I asked when Ennis reappeared after two days.

She gave me that warning look, but lately, I'd been impervious to it.

"I found a house." She tossed a set of keys onto the crappy motel table. I sucked my soda dry, making that empty cup noise that I knew she hated and then went back to playing the game on my laptop. I'd been killing zombies for hours.

"Where?" I asked.

She stripped off her shirt, moving in a weary way as she dug out a fresh set of clothes from her suitcase.

"Not far," she said. "We can move in tomorrow."

"Are we still in your territory?" I asked.

She tensed.

"You don't need to worry," she said.

"I'm not worried." Zombie brains exploded over my screen. "I just hope you're not planning on moving us to the city."

She sagged onto the edge of the bed. The mattress whined and groaned. "And why would you hope that?"

"Because cities aren't safe, are they?" I asked. "Not for me, right?"

"You're always safe with me," she said.

"But I can't be with you all of the time," I said. "You left me here for two days," I pointed out. "You had to."

"It's not that big of a city," she said.

"How many vamps are there?" I asked, training all my focus on the apocalyptic cityscape on the screen before me.

She stood, collecting her toiletry bag. "That's not something you need to know."

"If you say so," I replied.

She turned, examining me. "He's not going to come here."

I paused the game and dropped my head back so I could look at her. Despite her disheveled hair and weary eyes, in her bra and slightly damp, muddy jeans, she looked like a lingerie model. Not something I wanted to think, but I couldn't help noticing.

"If you think so," I said.

"There are things going on," she said. "Things you don't understand."

"Then why don't you tell me?"

A shadow passed over her face, doubt or anger maybe. These days, unless she made an effort, I couldn't tell what she was feeling.

"I will," she said, "someday."

"Why not now?"

"You have enough to deal with, don't you think?"

"Sure, whatever." I tapped the key, resuming the game. And then, before I'd gotten off another round, I paused it again. "You can't protect me forever, you know?"

"I can try."

"What a dump," I said, dropping my backpack onto the grimy wooden floor. "How many crackheads did you have to kill to win this place?"

She set a tower of boxes against the wall, hiding a large crack in the plaster. "It needs some work."

"Yeah, demolition work." I flipped on the overhead light. A musty yellow glow fell on the musty yellow walls, exposing numerous chips and unsettling stains. "What is this? Vampire chic? The coolest thing since the coffin?"

"Your humor's grown rather dark lately," she said.

"Imagine that," I muttered. "Maybe it's because I haven't seen daylight for a week. Your crazy nocturnal clock must be warping my brain."

"Come on," she said. "We need to buy curtains."

I checked my watch. "Who buys curtains in the middle of the night?"

"Are you going to be like this the rest of the summer?" she asked, cocking her fists on her hips.

"Like what?" I wandered through the living room, into the kitchen, which was no better. The refrigerator gave off a choking rattle and the oven had a devious look as if it were just waiting for me to come a little closer. A shabby dining room branched off the kitchen, and the bathroom tucked beneath the staircase was heavily colonized by black mold. The rusty faucet _plinked, plinked, plinked_ as if subjecting the sink to water torture.

The stairs proved sturdy enough, constructed of a heavy dark wood, but most of the floorboards were soft and groaned in protest under the slightest pressure. Upstairs, the rooms looked as if they had been through a war; one in which people had resorted to chewing on the drywall for sustenance and had pulled down all the light fixtures to wear as helmets. It was not the sort of place that inspired any kind of hope for the future or reassured me that my sister was thinking clearly.

I peered out the back-bedroom window into a scraggly yard, fenced in on all sides and full of unidentifiable rubbish.

So, this was home.

My horror-movie lifestyle was now complete.

"Where have you been?" I demanded, holding my phone away from my sweaty ear.

"It's complicated," Rafe said in a hushed voice, as if afraid of being overheard.

I rolled my skateboard back and forth underfoot. The late-summer air hung heavy and smothering, heat lingering long into the twilight hours. I possessed the sidewalk as if I'd lived in this run-down neighborhood my entire life. After two months, I was starting to feel as if I had. I'd called Rafe every week, sometimes twice a week, but my messages hadn't been returned until now.

"Yeah, well, that's life," I said, then smirked. "Doesn't get any less complicated when you're dead, huh?"

Rafe sounded weary. "Your sister is more resourceful than I realized."

"What does that mean?" I asked. "Are you coming? I think she's really losing it."

"How so?"

"She's been on a rampage," I said. "You should see what's she's done to the dump we moved into."

"She renovated," he said as if well aware of the endless days and nights of construction at the house.

"She practically tore the whole thing down," I said. "If it wasn't for the sunburn thing, she probably would have."

"Is she taking care of you?" he asked.

"If you mean, does she give me money for food and pester me about buying new clothes for school, then yes. If you mean, does she realize I'm trying to sleep at 3 a.m. when she's taking a sledgehammer to the drywall, then no." I leaned against the wall of the local corner market, where I had stopped when the phone had rung. The clerk on the other side of the plate glass knocked on the window and pointed at the no loitering sign posted above my head. I flipped the cat-faced woman off and she mouthed the words, "I'm going to call the police."

I rolled my eyes and turned away from her.

"And you haven't had any... encounters?" Rafe asked.

"Have I had any vamps try to add me to their trophy collection? No," I said. "But there are other vamps here, aren't there?"

He didn't speak for a long moment.

"Tell me the truth," I said strongly.

"Yes," he said. "A number of others live within the city limits." He paused again. "That's a part of the problem."

"Problem?"

"It would be very risky for me to come there," he said.

"Riskier than it is for Ennis or me?"

"Yes," he said. "Which is why Ennis chose that city. I didn't expect her to find out so much so soon."

"Find out what?"

The clerk stepped outside, brandishing her phone at me. I couldn't tell if she was going to call the police or throw it at me. I shoved off, tossing her one more rude gesture. She screamed profanities after me.

"What was that?" Rafe asked.

"The renowned culture of the city." On my board, I bumped over the cracks in the sidewalks. "Why can't you come here?"

"It's not that I can't," he said. "It's that if I were to, I'd be putting all of us in greater danger."

"Kind of like you did before?" I said.

"This would be much worse."

I stopped, flipping my board up and into my hand. "How could it get any worse? My sister was killed."

His tone remained cool. "It could've been worse."

"No more fluffy white bunny, is that it?" I gripped the phone hard. "Big deal."

"Nihilism isn't the answer, Nico," he said. "Perhaps for some, but not for you."

"What do you know about me?" I snapped. "What's in this town that the big bad bloodsucker is so afraid of?"

"I'm not surprised you're angry, Nico," he said. "But it's not a particularly useful emotion. Not when your survival may depend on you keeping a clear head."

"You didn't answer my question," I said.

"There are individuals who would very much like to hurt me," Rafe said. "I cannot say their desires are unwarranted, but I would be inviting confrontation if I broached certain boundaries. And I don't particularly wish to invite confrontation."

"You're afraid they'll kick your ass." I plopped onto a bus stop bench next to a twitchy guy who stank of gasoline and shit. He flinched away from me and huddled protectively around his box of French fries like I might rip them from his tiny, scaly hands.

"They can do much worse than that." His tone was such that I got a chill in spite of the oppressive heat.

The bus rolled up, its brakes squealing. The rat man scurried away. I waited until the bus had rumbled away before speaking again.

"So that's it?" I said. "You're just going to call it quits? I guess you can try to catch up with Ennis in a few hundred years, right?"

"If these individuals were to discover my feelings for your sister," he said, again with the lecturing tone, "I can imagine a great many things they would do to her. The kindest of which would be to try and manipulate her into their control."

"Can they do that? Does vamp mojo work on other vamps?" I sat up a little straighter. "Which reminds me, you know, I don't think it works on me anymore."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I think my sister has tried and it hasn't worked," I said. "Like how I remembered your number. She did some mind trick on me when I was asleep to make me forget, but after we met those two vamps at that truck stop, it came back to me. Just like that."

"Interesting," he said. "But it might be that your sister simply hasn't mastered her abilities yet."

"Well, whatever it is, she's stopped trying since it stopped working," I said, "I think."

"It might simply be that she loves you, Nico," he said, "And she doesn't want to manipulate you."

I frowned, slouching further against the bench. "So, who are these guys? What did you do to piss them off? Are they like some super old vamps, their minds twisted by living too long?"

"You watch too many movies," Rafe said. "They're not particularly old. But they are practitioners of a belief structure that is quite old among our kind."

"What? They're like religious fanatics or something?"

"Or something," he said. "In the past, they've gathered a great number of followers, brought together thousands of our kind. More than once, they were viewed as the bringers of salvation. But it always ends the same."

"Let me guess," I said, "bloody death."

"Quite," he said. "After the last incident, in which their organization effectively fell apart, the few survivors scattered. But they always come back together. The idea is simply too tempting. They'll draw others to them and it'll start all over again."

"What's the idea? Is it like Nazi eugenics? Vampires are the superior race?"

"No," he said, "just the opposite. They believe vampires are afflicted with a disease and, eventually, there will be a cure."

"But you're dead," I said, catching the eye of a kid a few years younger than myself, but with ten times the attitude.

"What are you looking at, huh?" he said as he strutted by.

I continued to stare at him dully. I had already been in a couple of fights with random neighborhood kids who had their own things to prove. Except, I didn't feel like I was trying to prove anything. Before we moved here, I'd never been in a real fight. Yet I possessed a confidence that superseded most of my opponents, and that was half the battle. The kid walked on, muttering and giving me the stink eye. There were gangs, I'd heard word of them and seen their signs scrawled on walls and metal doors, but I hadn't met any actual members. Most of the kids I'd met were just kids from bad families, in which hitting was as routine as eating, maybe more so. Actually, much of the neighborhood was pretty low key, just people trying to get by and kids acting tough.

"What they're selling is an alternative," Rafe was saying. "Even vampires want to believe there's something better." His voice turned vaguely emotional. "They want to believe that there's a chance for salvation. We may be dead, but we haven't lost our souls."

"Right, so, these guys go around telling vamps that there's a chance they can be cured and vamps buy in because they're looking for a way to make what they are... what? Okay?"

"What the leaders of this movement are actually after is control," he said. "Worse, they believe what they say. That they are afflicted with a disease and that one day, there will be a cure. They perform research, they have fund-raisers, they attend support meetings. They are the worse sort of liar; the kind that believes their own lies. And that puts us all in danger."

"How?"

"For one, they've been known to gather a great many of us together in one place, which is... not a good idea," he said. "Another is that they recruit the living."

"Recruit for what?"

"To be donors," he said. "They ask for volunteers and they call them 'partners'."

"Better than killing, right?"

Rafe went quiet again. It was unnerving because it was such a complete silence. It made me feel like I'd been talking to myself the entire time.

"Right?" I pressed.

"No, Nico," he said. "It's not. It's very much worse."

"Why?"

"Because a person that's drained over many months or years, they..."

"They what?"

"They don't die," Rafe said. "But they're not vampires either."

My stomach twisted like a Rubik's Cube. "What does that mean? They're like zombies or something?"

"Or something," he said softly. "They lose their souls, but they're still alive."

I sat there for a long time, trying to figure out what that meant.

"I'll call you again," he said. "Soon."

"Wait—"

But the line was dead.
9: Vampire Candy

**T** he local high school looked like an old mental hospital; a big, stained limestone complex from the last century, when schools were called 'institutions.' Halls, too narrow, and the ceilings, too high, left me with the dual sense that I was about to be crushed and that I had some bizarre shrinking disease. A swarm of stinking teenagers jostled and shoved past me.

Inadvertently, I'd been lumped in with the skater kids, just because I rode my skateboard to school. I discovered this when I sat down for lunch and a girl with thick glasses and stringy hair asked me why I wasn't sitting with the skaters. Only she asked it as if I had offended her sense of propriety; broken some unwritten rule of the cafeteria. I probably had. In the past, I would've been more aware of the social subtleties, but lately, I could barely get myself out of bed. I just didn't care. But rather than sit there, feeling the girl radiating disapproval, I got up.

"Can I sit here?" I asked the lanky group of skaters lazing at a table in the corner.

As a group, they looked up and inspected me. Five of them, three guys, two girls—a motley bunch. If they had dispersed, it would have been difficult to reassemble them by their looks alone. One kid was clean cut, button-up shirt, his jeans looked pressed. Another, skinny and long-necked, wore a dingy tank top, featuring a large red stain that could've been blood or Gatorade, but he wore it nonchalantly like the stain was a logo or something. Closest to me was a tall, lean, and fit kid with horn-rimmed glasses and freckles, his brown hair hung in loose curls, ringlets, he had a pocket-protector, lined with mechanical pencils and pens, it was like the star quarterback and the math club president had suffered some molecular accident and been smooshed together. He pushed the empty chair next to him back.

"Be our guest, newbie." Behind his lenses, his hazel eyes were wicked bright.

"Thanks," I mumbled, sliding my tray onto the table.

"I saw you,"the red-stain kid said, his wide mouth full of hamburger mush. "Plan B Samurai."

He was referring to my deck and watching me with his intense dark eyes.

"Yeah," I said unenthusiastically.

"Old school," he said, then swallowed. He then pulled out a plastic baggy from his pocket, full of little white nubs.

"Ew," one of the girls cried, holding her nose. "I hate it when you do that, Josh!"

Josh opened up the bag, releasing the pungent aroma of raw garlic. He reached in, grabbed a clove and popped it in his mouth.

"It's good for the immune system," he said. "Cleans the blood."

"It stinks," the girl said. "No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

"I'm Tanner," the quarterback/nerd mutant said to me, smiling.

"Nico," I said, not smiling.

"That's a weird name," one of the girls said, taking a break from gnawing on her fingernails to share her thoughts.

"It's short for Nicolas," I said, then shoved my mouth full of tater-tots.

"Well, I'm..." she introduced herself and everybody else at the table. I barely took notice, except that the kid with the red stain on his shirt was Josh. The girls put me off. They had a territorial air to them, which was subtly veneered by a false easygoing friendliness. I wasn't interested in joining any group and these girls gave the impression that this was a group I should _want_ to belong to, which made me want to be a part of it even less.

I was asked a few introductory questions, which I answered as vaguely as I could. The end of the interrogation came when I was asked by the other girl, a short blonde with the thick build of a gymnast, "What do your parents do?"

"Nothing," I said.

Her nubby little nose crunched up. "What? They're like unemployed?"

"No," I said, looking at her flatly. "They're dead."

That killed the conversation. And I was glad. Not that these kids didn't seem alright. Under normal circumstances, I would have made an effort to be social and friendly, but smiling these days was a Herculean effort and my energy levels ran somewhere around non-existent.

The kids apologized and I brushed it off. They then took a pitying turn, making extra attempts to smile and be nice. I was used to this. People didn't know how to act around someone who's suffered such a big loss. I couldn't blame them anymore. I wasn't sure how to act at all, so I couldn't be tough on them.

Finally, the nail chewer, her name was Alice, Allison, something starting with _A_ , said she had someplace to be and slid her chair back, right into a lanky kid walking behind her.

"Sorry—" Girl A started to say, but the kid, wearing all black, bared his teeth and hissed at her.

Girl A recoiled from the kid, who got right down in her face, his dyed black hair falling over his eyes. Behind him, two girls, dressed in similar mourning/cat burglar fashion, scowled at Girl A.

"Call off your freak, Cassandra." Girl A said to one of the girls, a slim, pale one, whose long hair was colored plum red.

"You bumped into him," Cassandra pointed out, in what sounded like an utterly regular voice, if not slightly bored.

"I said I was sorry."

"Oh," Cassandra said, her mouth forming a pretty _O_. "Okay then." She shooed the boy away, then smiled at the rest of us, though there was something slightly menacing about it. "Enjoy your lunch."

As soon as the trio was gone, Girl A rolled her eyes.

"What happened to Cassandra?" she asked no one in particular. "She's like the Queen of Freaks now."

"She must've been bitten," Girl B said, opening her mouth wide and lunging at Girl A. "Now she's a vampire."

Girl A pushed her friend away, laughing. My lunch came up in the back of my throat and burned a sour hole there. I watched Cassandra and her friends weave through the minefield of the lunchroom toward the exit doors. They weren't really vampires, I told myself and then got annoyed that I even had to think that. Once there had been a time when it wouldn't have been a question, but having to do a thought-check on the subject chafed me.

Just before Cassandra pushed through the lunchroom door, she looked over her shoulder and, it seemed, right at me. But before I could be sure, she was gone.

"If I get bit," Girl A said. "Put a stake in me. I'd rather be dead than look like that."

"Don't be so hard on them," Tanner said. "They're not so bad."

"Tanner, you like everybody," Girl A said, standing up.

Tanner shrugged. "I'm not that fond of you."

"Ha, ha," Girl A said flatly. "Later."

As soon as Girl A was gone, Girl B found an excuse to leave too. Josh leaned over, pointing at my half-eaten chicken patty.

"You going to finish that?"

"Hey, Nico." Tanner crashed his massive shoulders into the locker next to mine. "Want to come to the park with us?"

I glanced down at his battered board, amazed that a skinny little piece of maple could hold him.

I debated what to do. Ennis would want me home right away, especially after the first day. I was in no hurry to get back to the demolition site that was our house.

I had to give it to Ennis, the upstairs bathroom looked great. She'd done all the plumbing and electrical and tiling, hauling a new toilet and sink up the stairs all by her lonesome immortal self. She'd even refinished the creepy looking clawfoot tub, so it shone like something out of a luxury magazine. But it was unsettling. She'd never showed any interest in DIY projects and I was pretty sure that when she was alive, she'd known nothing about glazes or grout. Rafe had known just what she was up to, which meant he was either watching us or this was somehow part of a vampire's MO; like a new vamp gets a mouthful of blood and a copy of _Restoration for Dummies_.

"I don't know," I said.

Tanner pushed his glasses back, grinning at a couple of older girls as they strolled by. They snickered, one turned pink. As soon as they were gone, I got Tanner's full attention once more.

"Somebody waiting for you?" he asked.

"My sister," I said.

Tanner slumped, gazing up at the bars of fluorescent lights, which reflected off his lenses, obscuring his eyes behind bright white stripes.

"My grandma thinks I'm going to break my neck," he said. "So, I tell her that I'm on the chess team."

"There's a chess team?"

"Yeah, but I don't play." He smiled, his teeth straight and white. "She never leaves the house."

I had the urge to tell Tanner the truth. Ennis didn't disapprove of skateboarding, she was just afraid I'd get snatched off the street and drained like a pixie stick by a three-year-old—I was vampire candy. Would he have turned and run or politely backed away, searching for the nearest exit? How does a normal person react to that kind of craziness? I didn't even know. I hated that I had to think about it. Which put me in a foul mood I knew I needed to burn off before I went home.

Besides, it would be light out for a while yet. I couldn't see vamps sulking around on a hot afternoon in long-sleeves and scarves at the skate park...

"Alright," I said. "Let's go."

"Don't you need to call your sister?"

"Nah."

We met up with Josh outside and rode half a mile from the school to a neighborhood that looked much like mine if Ennis the vampire had spent the last ten years installing new windows and saving the old woodwork. For a moment, as we passed each upscale façade, neat flowerbeds lining their walks, shiny decorative iron gates doing nothing to prevent actual trespass, I wondered if there was a vampire living nearby. And what would happen if they spotted me? Would they start to stalk me like Rafe had? Would they try to get close to Ennis to get to me? What if they were a part of that weird movement Rafe had told me about? Would they try to recruit me to be one of their donors?

I experienced a brief pang of guilt for not calling Ennis, but I figured she would call me in a few minutes anyway when I wasn't home right after school. Except, she didn't.

A couple of hours passed at the skate park. Nearby was a playground, where middle-class moms pushed plump middle-class babies in strollers and rosy-cheeked kids skipped around like it was May Day. I had trouble reconciling the fact that my rundown graffiti-clad neighborhood was barely a mile away. Tanner bought some nachos from a vendor, took two bites and passed the warm plastic tray to me while he went off to display his preternatural grinding skills. Josh watched me, ravenous as I shoveled a few sloppy bites into my mouth. I passed the chips to him and he smiled at me like I was his hero.

I checked my phone: full bars. The spicy salsa and nacho cheese began to churn in my stomach. What if something had happened to her?

Josh licked the goopy yellow cheese off his fingers.

"Waiting for a chick to call?" he asked.

"No... my sister." I shoved the phone into my back pocket, which snapped shut so the contents wouldn't fly out when I was skating.

He cocked a mischievous eyebrow. "She's not a chick?"

"She's a lawyer. Or she was."

"No shit." He flung the empty nacho tray into the garbage can behind us. "My dad was in the army," he said as if being in the army and being a lawyer were somehow related. "He's locked up now."

"Huh," I said, for lack of anything else to say.

"Yeah, he used to beat the shit out of my mom." He said this like he was telling me the sky was blue or snot was green. "Tanner's mom is in jail too."

"Oh?" I said, not sure what to do with this explosion of information. "What for?"

"Killed his dad," he said. Again, no big deal. "Stabbed him like a zillion times. But Tanner was a baby. He doesn't remember any of it or anything." Josh rocked his board beneath his feet. "How'd your parents die?"

"They were murdered," I said, in the same flat voice as he'd use to report his and Tanner's biographies.

He nodded like he'd heard that story before. And... I guess he sort of had.

"Sucks, huh?" he said.

"Yeah."

"Yeah." He shot to his feet. "I'm up. You're next." He skated off toward the launch box.

"Where have you been?" I asked late that night, sounding more like a parent than I wanted. My annoyance abated when I saw the blood running between her fingers and soaking into her shirt, which was torn and disheveled. "What happened?"

" Nothing." She shuffled past me to the kitchen, which was only half constructed. Pushing paint-splattered plastic away from the sink, she began to wash the blood from her skin.

"Dinner fight back?" I asked, leaning against the bare casement.

"No," she said, her voice hard and cold.

I edged a little closer to get a better look at her wound; two semi-circular rows of puncture wounds.

My stomach flipped. "Another vamp bit you."

She hung over the sink for a long moment, letting the water and the blood run.

"How was school?" she asked.

"Someone tried to take a chunk out of you and you want to know how school was?" My voice grew louder, though I didn't mean for it to. "Was it one of the other vamps in town? Are we going to have to leave again?"

"It's nothing." She placed a damp towel against the wound. "We're not going anywhere."

"I want to know what happened," I said.

She turned and leaned against the counter. "And I want to know how school was."

"School sucks," I said. "Your turn."

She stared at me like she was trying to read my thoughts again, but I was _pretty_ sure vampires couldn't read thoughts, so I simply stared back at her until she spoke.

"There was a disagreement," she said, keeping her tone unaffected.

"With another vamp."

She nodded, showing no emotion.

"Who?"

"That's not important." She stepped toward me and I flinched back.

I felt bad the moment it happened, but there it was. I hadn't done it on purpose. It had just been instinct.

A crease flitted across her forehead but was gone the second I saw it. She touched my arm gently. "I'm going to keep you safe, Nico. No matter what. I promise."
10: Tons of Blood

**I** wanted to call Rafe, but I couldn't while Ennis was in the house.

I woke up late the next day and had to hustle to school. Apparently, my trip to the skate park had solidified my place in the rings of hell that comprised the high school social order; the wondering looks I'd received the day before pretty much ceased altogether—with one exception.

In study hall, midway through my morning, I had the distinct sensation I was being watched. Of course, I was already paranoid. I was a walking vampire lollypop. But when I looked over my shoulder, it wasn't a vampire staring me down, at least not a real one. It was Cassandra. Looking at her must have seemed like an invitation because she came over without the slightest hint of shyness.

"Hi." She sat down next to me. She smelled like baby powder. "I'm Cassandra."

"Nico," I said, stupefied. The monitor was too busy playing solitaire on his computer to notice us talking.

"Cool name." She tossed her glossy plum-hued hair over her shoulder. The dusting of makeup on her face made her skin paler than it was and a little shimmery. She glanced over my chemistry homework, which I hadn't been able to complete the night before while waiting for Ennis to return.

"Chemistry? Mr. Barnes?" she asked.

"Yeah." I twirled my pencil, not sure what to make of Cassandra, her ornate goth jewelry and lacey black cut-off gloves. She wasn't the least bit self-conscious, in fact, she was almost too confident. It sort of bugged me. At the same time, I was mesmerized by the red of her lips and the heavy eyeliner around her hazel eyes.

"I had him last year," she said. "He smells like fried eggs."

I smirked. "Yeah." Hearing yet another monosyllabic response come out of my mouth, I struggled to string a few words together. "Are you a junior?"

"No. Sophomore," she said. "I'm in AP, but that doesn't make me a geek or anything."

"What's wrong with being a geek?"

"Nothing," she shrugged. "But school doesn't really matter to me."

"What does?" I asked.

She looked at me strangely, as if sizing me up. It reminded me of how Ennis looked at me when she was trying to read my mind.

"You sit with Tanner and the skaters at lunch," she said, swinging to a topic that, on the surface, seemed unrelated.

"So?" I didn't intend to sound defensive, but I guess I did because she offered me a pretty, reconciliatory smile.

"It was just an observation," she said. "You could sit with me if you wanted."

Heat pricked at the tips of my ears, though I wasn't sure why. Sure, she was pretty, but she was also off-putting. It was cool that she was self-assured. But she put a lot of effort into her dark appearance, and I'd never been into the dark or the high-maintenance type. So, it was confusing to find myself attracted to her.

"Yeah, I guess," I said, not wanting to turn her down right off, but not wanting to commit to anything either.

"Since you're new," she said, "I could show you around. There's a lot more going on in this town than most people realize. You just have to know where to look."

"Are you always this aggressive?" I asked before I doubled-checked my tone. I cringed, but she showed no sign of being insulted. In fact, she smiled.

"Only when there's something I really want," she said. "See you later."

I didn't sit with her at lunch, but every time I looked her way, she smiled at me.

Tanner noticed.

"Cassandra," he said like he was familiar with the symptoms of some disease I had contracted.

"What about her?" I said, draining my chocolate milk.

When he shrugged, it resembled an earthquake lifting the landscape.

"She's a poser," Josh chimed in, reaching across the table to steal a handful of Tanner's French fries.

"She's not a poser," Tanner said. "She's just not the same as she was."

"People change all the time," I muttered, partaking in a private joke that wasn't really funny.

"She's weird." Girl A poked her nose into the conversation. "She used to be a cheerleader. You know, student council, Key Club, band, track. Last spring, she dropped everything. Now she's got her little minions following her everywhere, being all creepy and weird."

Girl A leaned back and folded her arms as if she had given the last word on the subject.

"So what?" The button-down kid of the group, Peter, said. "She's not into those things anymore. Is that a crime? Why are you so judgmental?"

"I'm not judging her. I'm only saying," Girl A said, taking on the snippy tone that she used often with Peter; evidently, they had a thing going that meant they made-out and fought a lot.

"I think she's hot," Josh said, adding a belch for good measure.

The girls shared an eye roll.

"All I know," Girl A said, "is that whenever she gets another crony, they change. They go from perfectly normal to _Night of the Living Dead_. It's lame."

"Perfectly normal is lame," Josh countered.

"Well, what about Brennin?" Girl A retorted, silencing the entire table.

Everyone's eyes dropped and even Girl A looked as if she wished she hadn't said anything.

Finally, I had to ask, "Who's Brennin?"

No one jumped up to answer, but after an awkward moment of everyone looking from one to the other, passing the responsibility of explaining around like a can they were afraid was about to explode, Tanner said, "He and Cassandra dated last year."

"He was a senior," Girl A added.

Her interruption seemed to stall out Tanner from further explanation and no one else appeared willing to pick up the reigns.

"Since you're talking about him in the past tense," I said, "I assume he's not around anymore?"

"He's around," Josh said.

Girl A sneered. "You don't know that."

"I saw him," Josh said.

"Yeah, sure," Girl B said, "and how high were you?"

"Somewhere between baked and burnt," Josh said with a grin.

"If he's around, then why did his parents call the cops who spent months looking for him?" Peter asked.

"Because he doesn't want to be found," Josh said. "Is it impossible that he wouldn't want his parents to know where he was?"

"What about all the blood?" Girl B asked softly.

Another unsettled silence smothered the conversation.

"Blood?" I asked.

"They found his car on the outskirts of town and nearby," Tanner told me in his even-handed manner, "a bunch of blood. But it didn't exactly match Brennin's."

"Didn't exactly?"

"They said that it was contaminated or no good. They couldn't make a positive match," Girl B said in a hush. "Even though there was tons of it."

"It's not tons of blood," Josh said. "It's a liquid."

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes." Girl B stuck out her tongue and threw a French fry at Josh. He caught it in his mouth.

Everyone chuckled, except me.

Tons of blood. Scientifically correct or not, the words just kept repeating in my mind.

Didn't I have enough trouble? Did I need to start crushing on a girl whose last boyfriend had mysteriously disappeared and left behind tons of blood? But by the time I'd decided I didn't need that, I was already crushing on her. In study hall, I would find myself flat-out staring at her. Still, I kept my distance.

And she had pulled back. Maybe she'd taken the hint that she'd come on too strong at first. Of course, now I wanted her to come talk to me.

In the meantime, Ennis was the homework Nazi. She'd wanted to talk about what I'd learned and look over my work when I was done. One night, when she was checking over my geometry, I noticed the bite marks on her neck had scarred.

"Why didn't they heal?" I asked.

She looked up, startled as if she'd been so deeply engrossed by tangent, sine, cosine, that she'd forgotten I was there. "What?

"The... you know," I gestured to her shoulder.

She tugged up her collar, covering the mark.

"Is because you're a vampire? The healing thing only works on mortals?"

"Must be," she said. "This angle is wrong," she said, tapping at my diagram.

I didn't look at the paper.

"But didn't you get bit when you were fighting those two vamps we ran into at the diner?" I asked.

"I don't remember," she said. "See, this should be a—"

I straightened up, frowning at her.

"You just lied," I said. "You did get bit during that fight."

She stood up from the table. The house was slowly becoming livable. She'd finished the kitchen and had somehow stocked it with brand-new everything, although I didn't know where all the money was coming from.

"Why would I lie?" she said like I'd simply been mistaken.

For a wavering second, I had the inkling that I _had_ been mistaken, but then... I shoved back from the table.

At some point, I'd grown. Now my glare hit hers directly. Before too long, I'd be taller than her. "Your mind-tricks don't work on me, so don't bother." I slammed my books closed. "I can't believe you'd try to pull that shit again!"

She put on a repentant face. I might've been suckered by it if I weren't already pissed off and wanting nothing more than to get away from her.

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't bother." I grabbed my backpack and headed to the door. She seized my arm, so fast I didn't even see her hand moving.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you!" I attempted to free my arm, but failing miserably. "Get off me! You can't keep me here!"

I tried shoving her, but it was like shoving a wall, she didn't even sway.

"You can't leave," she said calmly. "It's going to be dark soon."

"What are you going to do, Ennis?" I yelled because it felt good to yell. "Keep me locked in the house after dark for the rest of my life? Tell my wife and kids that I can't go out because a vampire might get me? Are you going to hang out at the nursing home and change my diapers? Are you going to follow me around until I'm dead? Why don't you just kill me now? It must be pretty tempting for you. My soul being all pearly white and everything must really drive you nuts! Don't you just want to take a little bite?"

She released me. Her features were flinty, unreadable, her eyes blank.

I didn't know what it was that had gotten to her, or how it was affecting her and I hated that I couldn't tell anymore. Even when I got through to her, I never knew what she was feeling or thinking. What was the point of screaming if the only reaction I got was an empty stare?

"Don't follow me," I snapped as I charged out the door.

I burned off some of my excess energy at the skate park. Most of the guys there were older, tattoos and piercings and hidden cans of beer in their oversized pockets. They passed around a joint and I took a couple puffs, but didn't notice any difference; mostly my throat burned.

I skated until the sunset. Once the light had bled away, I looked around as if expecting a vamp to appear, just like that.

As the last of the skaters trickled away and the park grew quiet, except for the occasional dog-walker, I found myself sitting on a swing, my stomach tying itself into tighter and tighter knots. I knew I should've gone home, but I couldn't.

How was I supposed to live the rest of my life if I was always worried a vamp was going to show up and put an end to me? Except I wasn't worried. Ennis was worried. I knew I was going to die. I'd faced death and I knew it would come back for me someday.

Hiding in the house wasn't going to save me; it hadn't saved _her_. The vamp had just busted in and killed her—no invitation, no nothing.

Movies so lie.

This wasn't a movie. My sister was here, but she wasn't who she'd been. She'd never be that person again. Rafe had been right. I hadn't saved her. My sister was gone. Our old life was gone.

It tore me up inside but blaming myself was making us both miserable. And it wasn't changing anything. I wanted to move on. The problem was, I didn't know what to move on to. I just knew this wasn't working.

"Hey, bro," Tanner said, startling me out of my tangled thoughts.

"Hey," I said, surprised to see his hulking figure emerge from the dusky gloom settling over the park. "What are you doing here?"

He took the swing next to me. It groaned. I waited to see if it would break, but after its initial protest, it resigned itself to the excess weight.

"Just out." His heels dragged through the sand. "I was thinking, you know, if you like Cassandra, you should go for it. Don't pay attention to what everybody else says."

Actually, for the last few hours, I hadn't thought about Cassandra at all. "How come you're not dating anybody?"

His mouth twisted up, reminding me of Rafe when he talked about my sister. "Girls are too much hassle," he said. "I can't deal with drama."

"There's probably, maybe, one girl out there who's not drama," I speculated, though I wasn't entirely convinced.

"You let me know when you find her," Tanner said.

"What makes you think I'm going to give her to you, dude?"

He chuckled but lapsed sober a few minutes later. "Josh said your parents were killed," he said.

"Yeah."

"My dad was murdered," he said. "Did you do therapy?"

"For a while," I said.

"Did it help?"

I shrugged.

"I didn't want to talk about it," he said. "I didn't want to think about it. I mean, what's the point, you know?"

"Yeah." Though I had talked and thought about it plenty, it was hard to say if I was any better off for it.

"What was—" But before Tanner could get his question out, Ennis stepped out of the shadows.

"I told you not to follow me."

"Who's your friend?" she asked.

I glowered, not responding.

"I'm Tanner." He stood up and shook her hand.

"Ennis, Nico's sister."

Tanner pulled a face at me, which I knew meant that he thought she was hot. I slumped in my swing.

"Nico, why don't you invite Tanner back to our house?" she said. "You two can talk there. I promise I'll stay out your way."

"Our house is a demolition zone."

Ennis took a couple steps toward me.

"Nico, you need to go home," she said, "now."

A sick squirm wriggled into my gut. All the hairs on my body stood at attention.

"Right," I said, rising slowly. "Okay."

"Just walk home," she said. "I won't be far behind."

"Sure." I shouldered my backpack. "You want to come to my place, Tanner?"

"I, ah—" Tanner looked around, as if he, too, felt like there was someone out there, someone watching. Maybe he did.

"It's not far—" I turned and froze. Before me, a very pale, very expressionless young man dressed all in black. But I didn't mistake him for one of Cassandra's lackeys.

I knew a real vampire when I saw one.
11: Your Teenage Vampire Heartthrob

**"B** rennin?" Tanner gaped. "Where have you been?"

But Brennin didn't respond, his eyes, washed-out gray, were fixed on me.

Ennis gripped my shoulder, moving me back as she stepped in front of me.

"You're being foolish," she said to Brennin like they were picking up on a previous conversation.

Maybe they were. Maybe Brennin was the one who'd left his mark on my sister's shoulder.

"I do what I want," Brennin said, petulant as I had been earlier.

I backed up to Tanner, who was watching, perplexed.

"That's the problem," Ennis said. "They're looking for you."

Brennin smirked. "Are they?"

"Man, the cops have been looking for you for months," Tanner spoke up. "Everybody has." Tanner stepped forward before I could stop him. "What happened to you? Do you know how freaked out everyone is?"

Brennin finally looked at Tanner, though he barely seemed to see him.

"Tanner," he said after a long moment. "You look well."

"You don't," Tanner said. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

Ennis took Tanner's arm and pulled him back from Brennin a few paces. But he seemed too stunned by Brennin to notice my sister's manhandling.

"Nico, get Tanner out of here."

"No way." Tanner pulled out his phone. "I'm calling the cops. Your parents need to know you're alive."

Brennin seized Tanner's wrist. He plucked the cell phone from Tanner's hand, a twisted smile on his face.

"Better not," he said. "The police don't like to be lied to."

Tanner held his ground, as anyone might have if they'd believed that Brennin was nothing more than a troubled teenager. I, on the other hand, had the strong desire to run away. Not because I feared being killed, but because those are the options: fight or flight. And I knew I couldn't fight him. Rational Guy was waving me on like a third base coach: Run home!

But I couldn't let Tanner hang around, especially not if there was going to be a fight.

Ennis remained cool as ever and Brennin, despite his posturing, gave no obvious signs of imminent attack.

"You're being very reckless," she said.

"Mind your own business, girlfriend," Brennin said and then chucked Tanner's phone away into the darkness.

"Hey!" Tanner took off after his phone.

"Stay away from my brother," she said.

He chuckled and took a step toward her.

"Are you going to stop me?" He held his arms wide. "All by yourself?"

"Just because you're crazy, doesn't mean you're invincible," she said.

"I'm not crazy," Brennin said, amused. "I'm just... . nonconformist. Like you."

The fight started before I noticed either of them had moved. One minute, they were standing there, and the next, they were gone. A moment later, I saw Ennis hit a tree and fall to her knees. I backed away and headed after Tanner. I found him tromping through the trees as if trying to crush his phone rather than find it. When I came upon him, he spun around quickly, like he thought I was about to attack him.

"It's just me," I said, holding up my hands. "We need to get out of here."

"I can't find my phone," he said.

"I'll call it."

A few minutes later, we had tracked down his phone. In the meantime, Tanner had noticed the noise from the playground.

"Are they fighting?" Tanner squinted through the shadows. "That jerk would fight a girl?"

"Ennis can hold her own," I said. "We gotta go."

"You're not just going to leave your sister, are you?" Tanner gave me a look that strongly suggested my answer should be no.

"She can take care of herself," I said weakly.

Tanner stared at me, incredulous. Then he grabbed my arm and dragged me back to the playground. "We can take him."

But by the time we returned to the better-lit area of the park, there was no sign of Ennis or Brennin.

"Where they'd go?" Tanner searched around.

"I told you, it's nothing." I started toward the sidewalk. "She probably went home."

"Unless she's knocked out unconscious somewhere," Tanner said harshly. "We should look. You go that way and I'll go this way."

Before I could argue, Tanner charged away. I didn't want to leave him, but I was also ready to get out of the park. Anyplace seemed better. Feeling truly like a coward, I resolved to split and make my excuses to Tanner later. I was pretty sure Brennin wasn't going to drain Tanner. I was almost certainly the better target.

I started for home. Maybe it wasn't any safer, but at the moment, I just wanted a door to lock.

An arm cinched around my throat and cut off my air before I got two steps.

"No scampering, Mr. White Rabbit," Brennin said, as my vision turned blurry and my head began to swim.

"Brennin," a deep unfamiliar voice said, "release him."

Brennin hissed and then I blacked out.

I woke up on a vast bed in a darkened room full of heavy shadows. A dull throb pushed at my eyes and my temples.

"Are you okay?"

I winced, shrinking away from the voice. A match flared and the glow revealed a pale face.

I squinted at her. "Cassandra?"

She lit the lamp next to the bed, her face solemn in the flickering light.

"Where am I?" I asked, sitting up, cradling my aching head.

"You're safe," she said.

I scowled. "That's not what I asked."

She sat on the edge of the bed and I slid away from her.

"Don't worry," she said. "No one's going to hurt you. They saved you,"—her face fell, pained—"from Brennin."

"Who saved me?"

Cassandra wrung her hands, looking so sad that I had to stop myself from comforting her.

"He wasn't supposed to change," she said, again, not answering my question. "They never meant for him to. But he wanted to anyway." She stared at some distant point. When she refocused, she leaned toward me. "You really live with your sister?"

"Where am I?"

"Penance House," she said. "It's where all the new ones come."

The lamplight illuminated the wainscoting and the wide stripes of wallpaper that might've been blue or green. I couldn't really tell and didn't really care. On the opposite wall were two narrow, dark wood doors. I lurched off the bed and went for the first one; an empty closet. Cassandra stood up but didn't try to stop me.

"They'll come for you soon," she said. "You're not in any danger."

"The more you say that the less I believe you," I said, going to the next door. I paused, my hand on the knob. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Cassandra folded her hands neatly in front of her. That's when I noticed she was wearing a simple blue dress, without any black lace or heavy silver jewelry.

"I stay here a lot," she said. "It's better than home."

I stared at her, trying to figure out if her melancholy was a trick or if she was being sincere.

"Where's my sister?" I asked.

"Downstairs." She smiled faintly. "Speaking with the Minister. Your sister's very beautiful."

I ground the heel of my hand into my forehead.

"The Minister?" I asked.

"She's going to help your sister with her problem."

"Her problem?" I said, not comprehending at first. "You mean that she's a vampire? That problem?"

"Only if she wants help," Cassandra said. "But I think they're talking about the other problem."

I leaned my shoulder against the door, sagging.

"What problem is that?"

"I don't really know much about it," she said, taking a small step forward. "Someone they're trying to get rid of, I think."

Rafe. I reached for my phone and was relieved to feel it in my pocket.

"So, you're like, what? One of their donors?" I asked, not hiding my disgust.

Cassandra's face hardened.

"It's a small price to pay," she said.

"For what?" I demanded. "Becoming a soulless zombie?"

Cassandra shook her head. "You don't know anything about the Ministry. You don't know how much good they do."

"Are you nuts?" I turned more fully toward her. "You're letting vampires drink your blood. What good comes from that?"

Cassandra's eyes narrowed. "For one, I can see your soul."

"Big whoop," I said. "Take a good look. Pretty exciting, huh? But maybe not worth opening up your veins as a vamp drive-thru."

"It's more than that," she said, pacing away from me. "The Ministry is trying to help vampires. It's trying to save them, to prevent them from killing innocent people."

"And you're just willing to sacrifice yourself for the greater good? What? You've got a Joan-of-Arc complex?"

"I'm not sacrificing anything," she said. "I can make more blood. I'm not going to die. And I'm not going to—"

She pursed her lips and glared at me. Now we're getting somewhere. The previous breezy, carefree façade was gone. Tears shone in her eyes.

"Not going to what?" I asked.

She swiped at her tears.

"They help me," she said strongly. "They make it go away."

"Make what go away?"

"The pain," she said. "You know, all the anxiety and fear. All the crappy things that have happened to you. They free you from it. When they drink your blood, it's like, they unlock the chains." She clasped her wrist as if touching an invisible cuff. "Isn't there anything in your life that you've just wanted to stop? Stop hurting you, stop haunting you?"

I thought about my parent's deaths and the nightmares that had followed. There were times when I would've given just about anything to make the pain of their loss go away. Not that I wanted to forget about them, but I wanted to remember them without the hurt. Still, I wasn't about to serve myself up on a platter.

"It's like a drug," I said, shaking my head. "You're like an addict."

She hugged herself, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe it is. But people take drugs all the time, for the same reasons. Except, it never really helps, it just covers it up. This makes it go away, little by little. One day, it'll be gone."

"Yeah, that's because your soul will be gone," I said. "Don't you get it? They're not drinking your blood. They're drinking what's in your blood, that stuff that makes your soul. And you're right, after a while, it will be gone."

"That's not how it works," she said like she was trying to explain something to a stubborn child.

I wavered between getting the hell out of there and trying to make Cassandra see the truth. At least, the truth as Rafe told it. Granted, he wasn't the most reliable source, by his own admission. But as far as I could tell, he had no reason to lie about this. Whoever this minister was, she had Cassandra totally suckered.

"Are you sure about that?" I asked, letting go of the doorknob. "You do know that a vampire will say whatever it needs to say to get what it wants."

Cassandra crossed her arms.

"Of course, I know that," she insisted. "The Minister is totally honest. It's part of the path to redemption. They have to give up killing. They have to give up lying. They have to do good works to make up for what they've done in the past."

"A vampire can't give up killing," I said.

"They have," she said. "The Minister hasn't killed in centuries."

"And you just take her word for that?"

"Think about it, Nico," she said. "Your sister could live without having to hurt anyone. She could help people. Don't you think she wants that? Do you know what it does to them? To have to kill people? They don't want to do that any more than you or I do."

"I don't know, Brennin seemed pretty excited about it," I said darkly.

I got the reaction I wanted, knocking Cassandra off her soapbox, but I didn't feel good about the expression on her face.

She turned obliquely from me.

"Brennin was like you," she said. "Not believing. Thinking that the Minister had some hidden agenda. He turned against the Ministry. He got two of the congregation killed. He wanted to be immortal. He didn't believe the Minister that it's a disease, a curse. Now, look at him."

There was a knock at the door. I sidled away from it, closer to the window. I didn't know what was on the other side of the glass, but it was the only other escape route.

The door opened. Ennis. I was relieved, except by the bruises on her face and the bandage on her arm.

She gestured to me. "Let's get out of here."
12: Trust No One

**P** enance House was located in a rambling Victorian, well-maintained from what I could see in the dark. The other houses nearby were just as grand and old. I had no idea where we were, but as we left the warm light of the porch, Ennis turned decisively, leading the way. I wondered how she knew which way to go if she had some built-in vamp GPS.

I hadn't seen anyone else in the house as we exited. The rooms were dim and quiet. The house smelled faintly of lavender, decorated with furniture from the same era as when the house had been built. But there had been no sign of a minister or a congregation. I pictured a grim, gaunt-faced old vamp, something akin to the original Nosferatu. Sickly pale and bald, long, disfigured hands, in a stiff black clerical frock coat.

Ennis didn't speak as we walked. From the darkness of the windows and the silence of the street, I got the impression it was late, but I wasn't particularly tired. My head pounded, but mostly because I was pissed that Cassandra could be so gullible.

"We shouldn't have left her there," I said, puffing a little as I tried to keep up with Ennis's brisk pace.

"Who was that girl?" she asked, not turning around.

"A girl in my class," I said. "She gives them her blood. She says they can live without killing."

Ennis continued ahead, not speaking.

"You don't believe them, do you?" I asked.

She stopped at a curb, putting her arm in front of me like I might run across the street without checking first. A few cars sat parked on the road, under a heavy canopy of old, creaking trees; otherwise, the road was dead silent.

I pushed her arm away. "You're not going to join them," I said, not asking, telling.

In the dark, her eyes appeared lit from within.

"You've been talking to him," she said. "Did you see him? What did he tell you?"

I stalked across the street. She fell into step with me.

We walked a block without speaking. Finally, she said, "Answer me."

"I haven't seen Rafe," I said. "Don't you think you would know if I had?"

We crossed over a highway. A cage arched over the pedestrian bridge, to keep people from jumping to their deaths. But there were no cages that could keep death at bay. Not really.

I walked fast. She wouldn't actually join the Minister's weird cult, would she? Where she would feed off donors? Like Cassandra? Even if nothing bad would happen to Cassandra, even if it were possible for Ennis to survive on donated blood, which I didn't believe, but even if I had, I wouldn't have wanted her to join.

"But you've spoken to him," she said. "Did he call you? How did he find out your number?"

I stopped to face her.

"I called him," I said. "Your vamp memory eraser didn't take. Your mojo doesn't work on me anymore. I know what you are and I'm not scared of dying. I'm not your pet. I'm not even your kid. You want me to live my life? Then you need to let me. Stop trying to control me."

Fuming, I started walking again.

"Nico, I'm sorry. But I didn't want you talking to him," she said, catching up with me. "You can't trust him. I know you think you can, but you can't."

"Am I supposed to trust you?" I asked. "You messed with my mind. You said you wouldn't and you did."

"I know," she said. "I tried not to. But you don't understand how hard it is. I don't mean to, I just do. Please believe me when I say that Rafe is dangerous."

"More dangerous than you? More dangerous than Brennin?"

She took my shoulders, forcing me to stop. I ripped free but didn't run.

"Brennin _is_ dangerous," she said. "Do you want to know who made him that way?"

"Maybe your soul-sucking minister?"

"Rafe," she said as if the name had sharp edges that cut her tongue.

I stared at her for a long time, but I said, "You're lying."

"Ask him," she said. "He turned Brennin. He used that boy to get his hands on members of the Ministry. Once he killed them, he made Brennin a vampire and then left him to fend for himself. If Brennin doesn't know the rules, if he's wild and reckless, if he's a murderer, and he is, it's Rafe's fault. All he cared about was revenge."

"Is that what the Minister told you?"

She put her hand on my shoulder again "I was there."

I didn't go to school the next day. Although, being at home was hardly restful. Ennis was so quiet it was unnerving and the lack of banging, pounding, and clanging prevented me from getting any sleep. I laid in bed most of the day, staring at the freshly painted ceiling of my room.

So what if Rafe made Brennin a vampire? Brennin had _wanted_ to be a vampire. And if Rafe wanted to kill off a couple members of the Ministry, then he probably had a good reason. I wasn't going to cry over fewer vampires in the world. But I knew Ennis was right. I couldn't trust Rafe... except, I already did. How was I supposed to stop trusting someone who'd saved my life? He'd been honest about stalking me, using Ennis to get to me, but when he'd had the chance, he hadn't killed me.

And Ennis had been manipulating me. Whether she meant to or not, it was messed up that she'd tried to erase my memory. I could never tell who was in control, my sister or the vampire.

Early in the afternoon, I wandered downstairs. Ennis was leaning on the new kitchen counter, bent over the computer, mesmerized by some DIY website.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. "I can make you a sandwich."

"I can make it myself." I pulled open the refrigerator door. The cool air inside still had that new plastic smell. "Where are you getting the money for all this stuff?"

The light coming off the computer screen glazed like ice over her impassive features.

"Do you really want to know?" she asked.

I tossed the various sandwich components onto the counter, not answering. I wasn't going to beg her to tell me the truth. Either she would or she wouldn't.

She shut her laptop and leaned her hip against the counter. " _He_ gave it to me."

I spread mustard over the bread, wishing Ennis would buy some white bread, instead of shoving this whole grain stuff down my throat all of the time.

"And you took it?" I asked. "Doesn't that send the wrong signal?"

"After what he's done, he owes us a lot more than money," she said.

I dropped the bread onto the plate. "You mean after he saved my life?"

She held my stare, but it wasn't a fair contest, because she didn't need to blink.

Eventually, I turned back to my sandwich. "I don't blame you if you're pissed about becoming a vampire." The words scraped like sandpaper against my throat. "But if you want to blame someone, blame me. I was the one who asked him to do it."

I finished layering the turkey on top of the cheese and mashed the second piece of bread on top.

"You should put some tomato and lettuce on it too," she said. "I bought sprouts, use those."

I shoved a corner of the un-vegetabled sandwich into my mouth, taking a large bite so that my mouth was stuffed and a full quarter of the sandwich was gone.

"What do you know about the Ministry?" I asked. "You don't trust them, do you?"

Some emotion played across the deepest layer of her skin, but like all of her emotions, it was nearly impossible to see.

"We have a common problem," she said.

I took another bite, aggressively, tearing and gnashing it, like I was ripping apart a fresh kill.

"They're liars," I said. "Like all vampires."

"Exactly, so you should know better than to believe everything that he tells you."

"He's the only one that's told me anything," I said. "He's the one that told me vampires are liars."

"He told you because he's using you," she said. "Like he uses everyone."

"I _know_ he's using me," I said. "He's using me to get to you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you don't know what his intentions are," she said. "He lets you see what you want to see. He tells you what you want to hear... nothing more."

"Why does he want revenge on the Ministry?" I asked. "What did they do to him?"

"They didn't do anything," she said matter-of-factly. "That was the problem."

"Huh?"

"He was a member of the Ministry," she said, with bitter amusement, "a follower. A true believer. He thought they could help him. But they couldn't, or he wouldn't let them. So, he turned against them."

"That's why he's killing them?"

"There's no worse enemy than someone who used to be a friend," she said.

"So, you don't buy into their whole vampires-are-diseased bit?"

Ennis stared at the tightly closed blinds over the sink. Bleach white light burned through the cracks and around the edges.

"The scientific evidence the Minister has collected is intriguing," she said, "but hardly conclusive."

"What about the donors?" I asked. "Cassandra thinks that they're helping her. But Rafe said they're really sucking out people's souls. That the donors will become like zombies if it goes on too long."

Her gaze grew distant, as it did when she was thinking over something deeply. I finished off my sandwich.

"Well?" I asked, wiping my hands on my jeans.

"That's interesting." Her face darkened. "He never told me that. You have mustard on your jeans."

"But he told you about the Ministry?"

"Obliquely," she said. "But it doesn't line up. As long as someone's alive, as long as they're producing blood, their souls should continue to grow. That's one of the ministry's keystones: that by using donors, no one need be killed. Apparently, they've devised a process of some kind—"

"One of the first things Rafe told me was that a vampire has to kill," I said. "He said that there wasn't any other way for a vampire to survive, that they'd all been tried. Why would he lie to me about that, if he knew that there's some other way?"

"He hates the Ministry, Nico," she said.

"Yeah, but if he was a member, wouldn't he know the process? Wouldn't he know how to survive without killing? Couldn't he just do it on his own, without them?"

"Did it occur to you that he likes to kill?"

She tripped me up, just like she knew she would. I guess it hadn't occurred to me that Rafe would enjoy killing, but once I considered it, I saw how it could've been possible. After all, he'd been killing for a long time—centuries maybe. After all that time, it wasn't unthinkable that he might take some pleasure in it. But I wasn't going to put my name on the Ministry's donor list.

"And did it occur to you that the Ministry is lying?" I asked. "That they hate Rafe as much as you do? If their process works so well, then how come they don't have more followers? How come all the vampires don't do it?"

Ennis scraped her lower lip with her teeth. "Vampires aren't a homogenous population, Nico. They don't all want the same things. And the Ministry has congregations all over the world—"

She stopped herself, her head turning abruptly toward the front of the house.

The doorbell rang.

I gave her a bleak look and then shuffled to the door.

Daylight poured over me when I opened the door. I cringed, pulling back like I was the one with sensitive vampire skin.

On the other side, Cassandra "Hi," she said. "Can I come in?"
13: Fire

**U** nless paint cans can be considered a seat, I couldn't offer Cassandra a place to sit. But no one seemed to want to sit anyway. Ennis lingered between the kitchen and the living room. Cassandra lingered near the front door. And I hung in between, not really looking at either of them.

"The Minister would like to invite you both to dinner," Cassandra said softly.

"No, thanks," I said.

"We'd be glad to come to dinner," Ennis said in the next breath.

"Maybe _you_ would." I sidled Cassandra a wary glance. She was decked out in her goth gear again. "Why aren't you in class?"

"I cut out early." Her cheeks flushed pink. "I wanted to see you."

"Why?" I asked.

"What time are we expected?" Ennis asked, saving me from my rudeness.

"After sunset," Cassandra said.

"Tell her we'll be there." And then Ennis was gone. I scowled at the empty space where she'd been standing.

"I guess I'd better go," Cassandra said, turning to the door.

I was about to let her go when my snide curiosity got the better of me.

"What's with the getup?" I asked.

Cassandra hesitated, her back still toward me.

"Josh was right," I went on in the same acidic tone. "You _are_ a poser."

She turned, a startling mix of emotions on her face. I'd gotten so used to Ennis's non-reactive face that it was strange to see someone's feelings so plainly displayed. And, of course, I felt like a jerk.

"You're right." Her shoulder lifted a little. "I hate these clothes."

"Then why do you wear them?"

"They help,"—her voice grew even softer—"with recruiting."

It felt like someone had dumped warm Jell-O down the back of my shirt.

"You're recruiting donors at school?" I didn't know if I should be disbelieving or disgusted. For good measure, I was both.

"You didn't believe me," she said, accusatory. "You don't believe what I told you. About how they help—"

"They're drinking your blood," I said, holding out my hands as if waiting for her to throw me a sandbag. "I don't know what else you think they're doing to you, but they're definitely doing that. They're stealing your soul. Do you get that?"

Her fists curled. "I thought you would understand."

"Why would I understand?"

"Because of your sister," she said. "If you think vampires are so bad, why do you live with one?"

"This isn't about my sister," I said. "This is about you recruiting kids at school like you're the president of some twisted club. Do what you want, but you can't go around asking other people to give up their souls too."

"No one's giving up their souls, Nico." She threw her hands into the air. "You think I would give up my soul?"

I shook my head. It was obvious this wasn't getting us anywhere. She was convinced she was right, that what she was doing was okay, and I didn't have anything but Rafe's word to tell me otherwise. That and a gut feeling something was seriously wrong with the idea of installing a tap into your veins.

"You really think I'm that horrible of a person?" she said. "That I would ask other people to risk their souls? If that's what you think, then you really don't know me."

She slammed the door shut behind her.

"I don't want to do this," I said, as Ennis rang the doorbell.

"No one forced you here."

I pursed my lips. She was right. I could've locked my bedroom door and refused to come out. I doubted she would've knocked down her recently refinished door just to drag me to this dinner.

Ennis wore a skirt, something I hadn't seen her in since before she'd become a vampire. She looked like she was about to go on a date. The cab driver had ogled her the entire way, even though her pink silk shirt was long-sleeved and all but the top button was fastened. She could've been wearing a Hazmat suit and guys would have stared. I wore just what I had been all day, a T-shirt and mustard-stained jeans. She'd eyed the yellow smudge, but hadn't said anything.

The door opened. A stunning Asian woman stood before us. I might've suspected she was working her own vamp mojo on me, except she wasn't a vampire. By the time I realized this, we were sitting down in the formal front room, stiff, polished furniture and heavy, floral fabrics—from the drapes to the wallpaper to the rug and everything in between. The crystal sconce lights were dimmed, giving the room a drowsy quality.

The Asian woman, Tammy, a name that didn't quite suit her elegant air, asked if we cared for anything to drink. When I shook my head, she smiled, stupefying me all over again.

Tammy sashayed out of the room, leaving me and Ennis perched on the firm cushions of an ornate sofa.

"Is she a donor?" I asked Ennis.

"I don't know," she said.

"How many donors do you think they have?" I wondered what percentage of the city might be offering themselves up in exchange for a little relief from their various pangs. The pharmaceutical companies would lose millions if everybody traded in their anti-depressants for a vampire bite. I could imagine the ads on TV and billboards: _Just a pint can make you feel like a new person! Side effects may include loss of soul; zombitis_.

"Nico." Ennis snapped me out of my marketing planning, "Don't ask any more questions."

"Curiosity is in a child's nature," a powerful, yet soothing voice said.

Ennis stood. I sat and stared.

"Minister," Ennis said, bowing slightly. "Thank you for inviting us."

"My pleasure," the Minister said, her voice had a subtle, unusual accent that might have been slightly Southern, but not in any way that I recognized. A broad, big-breasted woman the color of toffee. She looked like someone's strict, but wise mother. She wore a loose bronze-hued gown wrapped around her robust frame and fastened at her shoulder by a large gold pin in the shape of a flower that appeared to be transforming into an octopus. Her gaze was as sharp as her cheekbones, and her lips were set near parted as if she might speak at any moment. "I'm gratified for your presence. And for that of your young brother."

Ennis rested her hand on my shoulder. "Yes, this is Nico."

"The pleasure is mine entirely." The Minister bowed her head, capped with swirls of glossy curls spinning individual galaxies against her skull. "Please, ease yourself," the Minister gestured for Ennis to sit.

The Minister settled her wide hips into the adjacent chair with an effortless grace, smoothing her gown around her like a debutant. Most of the time, her attention stayed fixed on Ennis, but every once in a while, her eyes would skim over me. Although they might have seen more of me than I could register, I felt no more discomfort from her presence than I did in Ennis's or Rafe's. She was certainly more comforting a presence than Brennin or the two vamps we'd encountered at the diner.

She and Ennis made small talk like anyone might, about the renovations and how I was getting on in school, without actually addressing me. Pretty soon, I was zoning out, barely hearing them. Was this what we had come here for? To discuss wood restoration and my less-than-stellar grades?

Soon, we moved into the dining room. We were joined by Cassandra and Tammy, as well as a taciturn middle-aged man in a business suit with gray swiping through his black hair at his temples like side-panel decals on a sports car. He was introduced as Mr. Parades, also non-vampire. Last in was a vampire, a petite blond woman who looked as if she should be out selling Mary Kay in her pink Cadillac, Verna. She, the Minister, and Ennis sat at one end of the table, while those of us that would actually be eating sat at the other.

I wasn't hungry, especially not with Cassandra pointedly ignoring me, looking as if someone had stuck an icicle up her butt. Tammy served, bringing out the first course of tomato soup. I couldn't help it, once the bowl was stuck under my nose and the steamy garlic drifted into my face, I was salivating.

"Notice any difference?" the Minister asked me as I drained the soup bowl.

The spoon hung in mid-air between my mouth and the bowl. "Huh?"

"The garlic," the Minister said, like a good-humored teacher. "While we may put most popular notions aside, garlic does have a prohibitive effect upon vampiric influence over the living. The sulfur-containing molecules interfere with what is believed to be a pheromonal output which gives vampires such unfair sway over their living counterparts."

I let my soup spoon dip back into my bowl. "What?"

"Actually, Minister," Ennis said. "My brother has already developed a type of immunity to those particular... outputs."

The Minister's dark eyes sparkled. "Fascinating. An inherent immunity?"

"I don't think so," Ennis said. "It's happened gradually, over time."

The Minister tapped her cheek with her long, gold-painted nails. "You'll find, young man, that all of our guests are given as much garlic as they'll suffer. We wouldn't want anyone unduly influenced."

I finished off the soup and met Cassandra's eye. She looked quickly away.

The next course was beef with roasted vegetables and whole cloves of roasted garlic, which the "living counter-parts" smeared over their bread like butter. The Minister continued with the small talk, every once and while adding a tidbit that underscored how benevolent the Ministry was and careful with their "guests", though she never touched on the subject of when she got around to drinking her "guests" blood.

After the main course, I was stuffed, or so I thought, but there was salad too.

"Eat it," Ennis said when I scowled at the dark assemblage of greens.

"Doesn't salad usually come before?" I asked, stabbing at the leaves vengefully.

"Better for the digestion, this way," the Minister said.

Before I could ask in which century she'd last worried about her digestion, my smart-assery was stopped dead by a look from the Mary Kay lady, Verna. She only glanced at me for a second, but her cutting blue eyes pushed against my throat like a knife. It might've been my imagination, but for the first time since entering the house, I felt the distinct presence of a vampire—a predator. I couldn't finish my salad, despite Ennis's pestering. Once again, I had the urge to run. But Verna showed no further aggression, though she seemed to sulk a bit. Her face was thin and lips pouty, her hair a blond tousle like she'd been woken from a nap and forced to come down to the table.

The Minister dominated the conversation, chatting breezily about nothing, occasionally drawing Tammy, Ennis, or Cassandra in. Mr. Parades stared dully at the middle of the table throughout, not speaking once. Ennis seemed content to let this prattling go on forever, but I was getting anxious, especially after Verna's threatening look. Finally, I broke in.

"What are we doing here?" I asked. "Are you trying to recruit us?"

This drew the attention of the entire table.

The Minister rested her chin in her hand and smiled softly.

"No cause for worry, young one," she said. "I admit, we should like to have you and your sister join our fellowship. You're a good example, for the others."

"Example of what?" I asked.

"Of how it might be," the Minister said. "Your sister, vampire, you, not, living in harmony."

I snorted. "I don't know about that."

"This is why we bring our living brethren to Penance House," the Minister said, spreading her hands. "To learn that they can, together, come to peace."

"That's funny," I said. "I thought you brought them here to suck their blood."

"You shouldn't speak like that to the Minister," Tammy said, heated.

"They shouldn't be here at all," Verna said, under her breath. She glared, but not at me, at Ennis. "Letting his crowned come here."

"Enough," the Minister said, laying her hands flat on the table. "Animosity at the table? To our guest?" She looked around, cowing her followers. Finally, her gaze settled heavy and smothering over me.

"Why should you not be suspicious?" She laced her fingers together. "What cause have we given you to trust? And after what Rafe did to your parents, I cannot imagine the-"

Ennis turned to stone beside me. I, too, was immobilized, as if she had just shoved a steel spike through my chest, pinning me to the chair.

"What?" I could barely breathe, but the Minister lofted her fine dark eyebrows at me with complete innocence.

"Yes?" she asked.

"What did you say?"

"No," Ennis cut in, getting up from her chair. "I think it's time we excused ourselves."

A hot, roaring swelled inside of me, tunneling my vision and tightening my muscles so that I wasn't sure I would be able to move, even if I wanted to. Ennis hooked my arm and tugged me up to my feet, though I gave her no assistance.

The Minister also rose.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," Ennis said smoothly. "Be certain, Minister. When I have any information that might help us solve our mutual problem, I'll contact you."

Ennis pulled at me, but I remained where I was, staring at the Minister.

"What did Rafe do to my parents?"

"Nico, we will discuss this—" Ennis started through clenched teeth.

"Tell me!" I managed to free my arm from Ennis, but I wasn't trying to escape. I was rigid and burning up.

The Minister looked to Ennis. "You haven't told him?"

Ennis stared stonily back at the Minister.

"What good does keeping the truth from him do?" the Minister asked.

I slammed my hand down on the table, spilling glasses of wine and knocking over one of the candles at the center. Cassandra leapt up to right the candle before it burned the tablecloth.

Ennis didn't speak.

Despite Ennis's non-response, the Minister seemed to glean something from Ennis. She bowed her head, clasping her hands before her as if disappointed.

"I see," she said. "That does complicate matters."

"No, you don't—" Ennis was cut off by the sound of shattering glass.

Everyone stood up. More glass shattered. Someone was smashing the windows. The fire alarms went off. As the vampires raced back toward the flames, and the mortals ran out the door. But I was stuck where I stood. Ennis half-carried, half-dragged me out.

The living collected on the street, where much of the neighborhood was gathering, gawking as black smoke poured out of shattered windows at the back of the house. I remained in a daze, as the crowd swelled and I lost sight of Cassandra, Tammy, and Mr. Parades. Not until the shriek of sirens did I snap out of the haze.

Suddenly, I felt more awake than I ever had. I tore away from Ennis, who had her arm around me. Tears bled from my eyes, but I didn't feel like I was crying, I felt like I was the one on fire, billowing black smoke. I shoved her. She barely moved.

"He did it, didn't he?" I pushed her again, drawing looks from the fringes of the crowd. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ennis shook her head. "Not here, Nico."

I swore at her, a long string of nonsensical curse words. I stalked away. I turned back, wanting to spit on her, wanting to hit her, wanting to shake her, but she was a statue, nothing more than an impression of my sister, carved in stone, immovable, ageless, practically lifeless. And I hated it. I hated this nonliving thing that looked like my sister but wasn't my sister.

"Just say it," I pointed my finger at her, like a weapon. "Just. Say. It."

Ennis maintained her impassivity. "What good would that do?"

"Say it!"

More emergency vehicles arrived and the crowd moved out of the way. I stumbled between two cars onto the sidewalk, which throbbed with the red lights of the trucks and police cars.

Ennis grabbed me by the shoulders.

"There's nothing you can do," she said. "Nothing at all."

"You let me trust him!" I clawed at my hair. "All you had to do was tell me! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to tell you." She clasped my hot face in her cool hands. "But I was afraid you might do something stupid. You might go after him and then he would kill you."

I swayed, rocked between grief and rage. I wrenched away from her, heaving pain-filled breaths.

"I trusted him," I said in a heavy exhale. "I thought that..."

"I'm sorry, Nico. Everything was so crazy after—"

"He killed my parents!" I staggered, the force of the words knocking me back. "You should've told me."

I turned and ran.
14: Run White Rabbit Run

**I** had nowhere to go. I didn't expect to get away from Ennis anyhow. But I wasn't thinking, I was just running.

When I stopped at a dead end, I was totally lost. The houses were gone and the sidewalk too. Standing on a gravel shoulder, I was surrounded by nothing but ten-foot-high chain-link fences, vast stretches of warehouses, buzzing nighttime security lamps, and that eerie stillness that comes from a lack of human activity.

"Where you running to?" an amused voice asked from behind me.

Panting and damp with perspiration, I turned slowly. Brennin grinned lopsidedly. His button-down shirt hem hung loose, his jeans were obnoxiously trendy, his handsome face and dark tousled hair—it all set him up to be something that his distracted gaze belied. The clothes said I'm a normal teenager. But his eyes were different, even than any vampire I had yet met. They were emptier.

My heart kicked at my chest, trying to get me to run again. I could try, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. I'd seen how fast a vampire could move.

"Did the fire scare you?" Brennin asked, rubbing his hands together. "Pretty good show, I thought."

"You did that?"

He shrugged bashfully as if he had won the game and didn't want to brag. "Yeah."

"Why?"

He laughed, showing his white teeth to the shrinking moon above us. "Why? Oh why?" he said, raising his hands to the sky like an actor in a play. Then his hands fell and his smile disappeared. "Why not?"

"Because they'll come after you."

"I don't think so." He stalked toward me. I edged back, fences looming up behind me.

A way out, there had to be. Please, please, please. All around, huge valleys of shadow between the halogen-lit plains of orange-tinted concrete and blank-eyed warehouses. No escape.

"They're scared," he said, "like you're scared."

He feigned and I flinched, stumbling. He laughed uproariously, hands on his knees.

"You should see the look on your face." He shook his head.

"Why would they be scared of you?" I asked once I was sure I hadn't pissed myself.

"I'm not like them." His laughter subsided, though his grin remained—all teeth.

"You're not a part of the Ministry," I said.

Yep, I was stalling, but I didn't know why. To my left, fence. To my right, a road they hadn't even bothered to stripe, and beyond that, more fence. Behind me? Oh, you guessed it. Fence. I backpedaled, even though I knew he could leap and catch me in a second. If I was lucky, I might get a chance to jump before he cracked me open and lapped out my insides. But hey, at least I could say I tried, right?

My statement seemed to have annoyed him, just what I needed. He stopped approaching, like a cat stops before it pounces. "You know what they did to me?" he asked.

I shook my head, still creeping backward.

"They..." Brennin held out his fist as if trying to hold on to the words, but his hand opened up, the words drifting from his grasp. His gaze lost focus and he seemed to forget I was there. I saw my chance and I took it. I ran.

I pounded out five paces before he tackled me. The air was crushed from my lungs. My chin struck the ground, radiating pain up my jaw into my skull.

He flipped me over, seizing my shirt and holding me inches above the ground. Blood ran down my chin.

And he licked it.

Gross.

I clenched up, frozen, terrified, about to lose my bowels. Then he pulled back, grinning, blood stained his teeth. He vamped out then, his eyes turning misty gray, his teeth elongating. I gaped, unable to look away.

Staring up into those vacant misty eyes, my thoughts leaked out. "They took your soul,"

His grin faded.

"Didn't they?" I murmured. "It's gone."

His face screwed up, his eyes slammed shut, and he released me. I thumped against the ground, not realizing how far up he had been holding me, banging my tailbone and my elbows. Pain sprang through me like barbed coils. Brennin swerved away, as if drunk.

"Not all of it," he said, holding up his finger at me, as if to correct me, his eyes shining, wet... teary? "Not all of it."

I scrambled to my feet.

"They said it would take away the pain." He tugged at his collar like it was choking him. "It did, it did."

"I knew it," I muttered.

"They took away the pain." His head swiveled as if he'd heard a noise. "They didn't tell me what they were really taking." His eyes melted into their normal dark hue. "The pain's a part of it," he said, "having a soul. It's connected." He traced an invisible line in the air, connecting two dots.

"You convinced Cassandra to do it too," I said.

"She was easy." He smirked ruefully. "Some pervert uncle filled her up with pain that she was dying to get rid of. It's never the people you think," he said. "Pretty, smart cheerleader, so sick inside. So... damaged."

"And why'd you do it?" I asked.

"Tammy," he said, smiling.

"You did it for a girl?" I said, incredulous.

He shrugged lazily. "Maybe." He tapped at his temple. "Probably lots of things that made me ripe. Daddy never loved me. Mommy was a bitch." He giggled in the way a loose nut rattles just before it's about to fall out. "My sister killed herself." The last thought stopped his delirium. "Hung herself." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Your sister's pretty hot," he said. "Too bad she's crowned."

"Crowned?"

"Marked," he said, touching his shoulder, right where Ennis had a bite-mark. "Spoken for. You touch, you suffer. And he can make you suffer. He'll make them suffer."

My aching head was straggling.

"You mean Rafe?"

Brennin touched his nose, signaling that I was right.

"Why would he... crown her?"

"So we all know," Brennin said like it was obvious. "No trespassing. All violators will be shot on sight."

"She saw him," I said, more to myself than to him. "She saw him and she didn't tell me." My anger resurfaced, not that it did me any good to be pissed while Brennin had a sample of my blood on his tongue. But I couldn't help it, it was suffocating.

"He made you a vampire," I said.

Brennin nodded, licking his lips.

"Why?"

"I asked him to," he said. "It was the only way."

"The only way what?"

"The only way to save what was left," he said, faltering as a wave of emotion swept over him as abruptly as all his emotions seemed to. "And to make them pay."

"How does becoming a vampire save your soul?"

A new voice made us both jump. "It was draining away."

I spun around. Acid surged into the back of my throat.

Rafe. I couldn't help but wish that the gates behind him would open and a semi would come tearing through and splatter him.

"And the Ministry wouldn't have let him go on, soulless, once they realized what was happening to him."

I quaked, my fists clenched. "You son-of-a—"

He cocked his head. "You're angry."

"You killed my parents!" I charged at him, but Brennin seized me from behind. I flailed against him, but I might as well have been clamped in iron chains. "I'm going to kill you!"

Rafe nodded as if he had expected this.

"I know you'll try," he said.

"I won't just try!" I jerked, every sinew like an electrified cable, taut, buzzing, but Brennin held me tight.

"Do you know how to kill a vampire?" Rafe asked, teacherlike. "You must assure that the blood drains. Which is why the usual stake to the heart will work, but you have to leave it in place and make sure the vampire can't remove it before all the blood has left his body. Decapitation is effective, though again, you must remove the head. Throw it in a river or burn it, so no one can replace it."

I glared at him. He looked back at me, maybe sadly. I was too angry to see anything but a murderer.

"Knives work as well as a stake," he went on. "Don't they, Ennis?"

Brennin spun us around. Ennis blocked the way out. The hunting knife in her hand reflected the light like orange oil, sliding down its surface—my knife

"Let him go," she said, glowering as darkly at Rafe as I had been.

"Kill him!" I screamed at her.

Brennin grasped my wounded chin and snapped my head back. "Ssshhh," he said into my ear.

"Your sister is as much to blame for these lies as anyone," Rafe said. "Ask her why she didn't tell you sooner."

"I already did," I said through my teeth, Brennin holding my jaw in his pinching grip.

"And what excuse did she give you?" Rafe asked me, though he never looked away from Ennis.

My teeth ground. My stomach tightened into a heavy ball of concrete, sinking, sinking, sinking.

"Salome was dead," Ennis said to me. "You thought she was the one who did it, and you were happier thinking that the murderer was gone. I wanted you to have that peace, Nico. And he"—she pointed the knife at Rafe—"was supposed to be gone too. We weren't ever supposed to see him again. But I guess you can't ever trust a vampire."

"I came because you needed me!" Rafe shouted like they were resuming an argument they'd had a million times before.

"You were stalking me!"

"And if I hadn't, you would be truly dead now," Rafe said.

More emotion erupted at that moment than I had seen from either of them in the last six months. But I wasn't interested in their feelings, I was too sick with rage. I didn't know which of them I wanted to kill first.

"And that would be worse than this," Ennis said, dejected. "Nico's right. I should kill you. I should've killed you long ago."

"Then do it!" Rafe roared, holding his arms open.

When she didn't move, I closed my eyes, or maybe I had just gone blind.

"Or," he said, disgusted and satisfied. "Join with the Ministry, help them find me. Maybe one of them will succeed where dozens before have failed. Keep up your pretenses, Ennis, if you must. But you and I both know that if you wanted me dead, I would be."

"I hate you!" she screamed, tears in her voice. "I have always hated you! I'm not like you. No matter what you do, I will never be like you!"

"Don't," Rafe said, on the edge of mocking and scolding. "You can hunt criminals all you want, Ennis. Think of yourself as an angel of vengeance if you like, but do not, for one moment, believe that you are anything but a killer. The life you take is no less than that of your father—"

I thrashed, like a caged animal. My ears full of ringing and the rushing of blood.

"Don't talk about my father!" Ennis roared.

"They don't want you, Ennis!" Rafe shouted back. "They want me. And they'll take Nico too. I'm sure they'll want to study him, just as they study all the pure souls. You were a fool to bring him here. Just to punish me—"

"This isn't about you!"

"Isn't it?" Rafe chilled the heat between them, his voice icy. "Why else would you have come here, of all places? You knew I would follow you. You knew how dangerous it was for me to return here."

"And I thought you would be smart enough to stay away," she growled.

Rafe shook his head. "You knew that wasn't possible."

She squared her shoulders and her expression that had been chaotic went hard.

"And I also knew," she said, "that they wouldn't let you escape when you did come."

At that moment, Rafe tensed and took a step back. Brennin released me suddenly. I sprawled onto my stomach once more. Ennis had me up on my feet before I saw them: six figures sweeping out of the darkness, a few leaping over the fences in a single bound. I knew they were Ministry, because Tammy, even though she was human, was among them, her clothes singed and disheveled, her face smudged with soot. Ennis guided me backward, away from Brennin and Rafe, tears slid down her cheeks, but the rest of her face was granite.

I wanted to stay and watch the fight. I wanted to see Rafe beaten, beheaded, possibly tortured, whatever he had coming. I wanted to witness it all. But Ennis moved me steadily away.

Into the darkness. 
15: Not Done Yet

**E** nnis stopped. Everything. The construction, the over-parenting, blinking. She stayed in bed for days and didn't move.

I went to school out of habit, but in reality, I felt a lot like Ennis acted, or didn't act. I'd gone numb. My emotional bulb had blown and I wasn't in any hurry to replace it. Even the idea that Rafe might be dead didn't inspire so much as a flicker.

I went to the skate park because I didn't want to go home.

Josh kept me on my feet, kept me moving, his enthusiasm giving me some semblance of energy.

"Tanner, where you been?" Josh asked when Tanner joined us late that Friday afternoon.

Tanner shrugged. Circles hung under his eyes, the same grayish blue as the heavy clouds overhead. "Grandma's been sick."

Josh clapped Tanner on the shoulder. "Too bad, man," he said. "Hope she's okay."

"She'll be alright," Tanner said unconvincingly. "What's up, Nico?" He bumped his fist against mine.

"You know," I said, mirroring his morose mood.

"Yeah," he said.

"Right." Josh dropped his wheels back onto the pavement. "You coming, Nico?" he asked, giving me an urging look.

I shrugged. "In a minute."

Josh scowled from me to Tanner. Then with a shrug, he pushed off.

"You want to get out of here?" Tanner asked.

"Sure." I followed him away from the skate park.

We walked for a long time, not talking. We passed the high school, the windows mostly darkened, the campus empty. Then my neighborhood, by Mexican restaurants and busy bars. The streets turned hazy as dusk fell and the clouds thickened.

"You hungry?" Tanner asked.

I shrugged.

"Things been pretty rough?" he asked.

"You could say that," I said.

"Problems with your sister?"

"Always."

Tanner smirked, humorlessly. "Girls, huh?"

"Yeah."

We walked further. The houses were shabbier, the porches sagged and the paint sloughed from the siding, the yards patchy and overgrown. Metal bars covered windows. From a not-so-distant backyard, a dog barked non-stop.

We stopped in front of a pale blue house, a stale yellow glow struggling through the lacey curtains in the front window. Loose stone covered the front yard, though a few straggling weeds poked through here and there. Next, to the other houses, it looked no better or worse, but seeing Tanner stand before its cracked sidewalk, I couldn't reconcile him to the house. When a bright, good-natured kid like Tanner lived in a house that exuded this kind of melancholic resignation something was wrong with the world.

"You want to come in?" he asked, unlatching the gate of the chain-link fence.

"I don't want to bother your grandma if she's sick," I said.

"She's passed out," he said. "They put her on some meds. She won't wake up until tomorrow."

I hesitated. I wasn't eager to go inside, but then, I wasn't eager to go home either. And with the choice between the two in front of me, I figured that whatever was inside Tanner's house couldn't be any more depressing than what was in mine.

"Okay," I said finally.

"We've got frozen pizzas," he said, becoming more cheerful as he led me up the soft wooden steps. He fumbled with his keys, nearly dropping them. Strange. Tanner, despite his size, had always moved with impressive agility.

With a bit of a shove, he opened the door. A vague smell of vinegar greeted me. In the hall, photos weighed down the walls, filling the reachable space, from waist-level to the top of my head. Dust coated the glass, obscuring the pictures. Dim light trickled into the hall from the living room.

"This way," he said, rolling his shoulders inward to avoid knocking the frames off the walls. He led me by the living room, which despite the mustiness and clutter of knick-knacks on every surface and shelf seemed pretty cozy. At the end of the hall, Tanner flipped on the overhead light with familiar thoughtlessness. Gold-hued vinyl flooring peeled up in one corner. The table, circa 1954, glittered with gold flecks under a creaky ceiling fan, but otherwise, the kitchen was clean and tidy.

Tanner opened up the freezer on a refrigerator the color of an avocado, a white cloud rolled out to meet him. Inside, the freezer was crammed with frozen pizzas.

"What kind do you want?" he asked. "Supreme?"

"Whatever." I dropped my bag on the floor and sank into a creaky vinyl and metal seat. I inspected the dark hall off the kitchen. A nightlight's pale glow issued from an open bathroom door.

Tanner coaxed out the pizza, trying to keep the others from falling. He shut the freezer quickly like he was afraid the boxes would avalanche. He started the oven. We talked about skating, movies, music. Tanner poured a couple of sodas and we sat in the kitchen, pretending everything was okay. We talked about girls and sports. And it was a relief to just hang out. In the week since the confrontation with Rafe, it was the first time that I didn't think about him, or what he'd done, or my sister.

As the pizza cooked, filling up the drowsy kitchen with the telltale aroma of salt and grease, a loud hacking cough stopped our mindless conversation. I flinched because I'd forgotten someone else was in the house. Tanner watched the hallway in an unfocused way like he could see through the walls. After a minute, the coughing subsided.

"Sorry about that," he said into his cup.

"Don't be," I said.

He finished off his soda. "She's dying."

I sank in my seat, led by my stomach.

"I'm sorry," I said weakly.

He shrugged. "I was hoping she would hang on until I was out of high school," he said, "you know?"

I nodded bleakly. "Yeah, I do."

"I'm not going to foster care," he said firmly.

"What will you do?" I asked.

He gave me a sharp look. "What would you do?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "My grandma's in an old-folks home."

"In two years, I'll be eighteen," he said, jaw clenching. "She's so old though..." He gazed at the hallway again. "I used I think I just wouldn't tell anyone." He ducked his head, gazing at the corner of the room. "When she dies, I'd just bury her in the basement or something and keep collecting her checks, until I'm legal."

I held the cold glass between my hands. If I was at all shocked by the idea, my shock was mitigated by my own fears of the foster care system. I could understand doing drastic and seemingly crazy things in order to prevent my life from going into any further tailspins.

"Wouldn't someone notice?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Her doctor. The priest, he comes by every other week. But I don't have a lot of options, you know?"

"Yeah," I said.

"I knew you would," he said, as though relieved.

The oven timer went off. He deposited the pizza on the counter, as he pulled the cutter from the drawer, his back to me, he said, "Somebody else is coming over soon. You don't mind, do you?"

"Somebody else?"

"A friend." The crust cracked as he pushed the metal disc through it.

"Somebody I know?"

"Yeah," he said. "Whew, hot." He shook his hand, offering a small smile over his shoulder. "I always cut into them too soon."

As he moved the pizza to the middle of the table, the back door opened.

I jumped out of my seat, toppling my chair.

Brennin smiled at me. The first drops of rain rolled over his face.

"You should know that running isn't any good," Brennin said, shutting the door behind him.

"What the hell?" I was at the threshold, between the kitchen and the hall.

Tears rimmed Tanner's eyes. He crowded into the far corner, which was a feat for someone so big. "Sorry, man, but I need my grandma around for a while."

"Don't worry, little brother," Brennin said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're supposed to be dead," I snarled at Brennin.

Brennin leaned over the pizza, inhaling. "Still smells good. That's weird, don't you think?"

"What about Rafe?" I asked.

"Sit down, bro," Brennin said, as he pulled out a chair. "Eat up."

Tanner hung his head, gray-faced, not looking at me. He sat down. I broiled, imagining just how much damage a pizza cutter could do.

"I said, sit down," Brennin said to me, his eyes momentarily clouding.

"You know?" I said to Tanner. "About him, about what he is?"

Tanner opened his mouth, but Brennin cut him off.

Brennin pushed the pizza toward me. "Eat."

I glared at him.

"Is Rafe alive?"

Brennin snickered, shaking his head.

"You're too obsessed with that guy," he said. "Is it because he sliced and diced your parents?"

I launched myself at Brennin, who probably could've evaded me if he'd wanted to, but my flailing attack seemed to amuse him. He let me beat on him, laughing hysterically. Finally, Tanner pulled me off. I shoved Tanner into the counter. Brennin rose, straightening his clothes.

"Not bad, Nicky," Brennin said. "If I were alive, that might've almost hurt."

I huffed. My knuckles had busted from punching him, my chest ached as my breath stretched my ribcage.

"What do you want with me?" I demanded.

"Nothing," Brennin said. "Well, I would've liked to steal your soul, but I guess you're off limits—"

"Why am I off limits?"

"Why do you think?" he said, righting his fallen chair.

"So, he is alive," I said.

"In a manner of speaking," Brennin said. "You're lucky, Nicky, very lucky."

"Where is he?"

"Don't worry." he smiled. "You'll see him soon enough. You didn't really think that those Ministry twerps could take us out, did you? You really don't know your sister's man, do you?"

"He's not my sister's anything."

He laughed softly. "I know she wants to believe that, but you don't really buy it, do you? I mean, why do you think she didn't kill him? He probably would've let her." Brennin rolled his eyes. "Dude has serious lady issues."

I pursed my lips. Maybe I'd been denying the obvious ever since I'd found out what Rafe had done to my parents. I hadn't wanted to think my sister had feelings for Rafe. Before though, I'd always suspected she loved him, that she was just trying to make it tough on him. But now, I didn't want to think that, even while she knew that he had killed my parents, her father, she could continue to love him. How was that possible? But when I thought about her, at home, paralyzed and silent, I knew it was true. She was grieving: for her father's murderer.

"Take me to him," I said.

"Sure, sure." Brennin waved at me, dismissive. "As soon as I take care of some of my own business."

"What business?"

Tanner's eyes rose from the spot on the floor where they'd been fixed since I'd pushed him. Brennin gave him a broad grin and patted him on the back.

"I'm helping out an old friend," Brennin said.

I took a step back from them.

"Helping him out how?"

Tanner hung on the counter, not meeting my eye. Brennin loomed in the aged light, the handsome predator.

"I didn't know what else to do," Tanner said in a barely audible voice. "She's dying."

"You're not going to make her a vampire?"

Brennin laughed. Tanner turned a greenish shade.

"No way," Brennin said. "You're a funny guy though."

"Then what?" I stared at them, at a puzzle, all the pieces sitting before me, but the picture coming together slowly.

Tanner shifted and let out a deep sigh. "I just need her around for a couple more years."

"So..." I looked from Tanner to Brennin and back. "Wait, you can't... can you? You're giving her soul to him?"

"Sure, she doesn't need it anymore," Brennin said. "And I do."

"Tanner,"—I turned from angry to pleading—"you can't do this."

"I have to," he said, a trembling sheen over his eyes.

"No, you don't," I said. "Do you realize what you're doing? You're giving your grandma's soul to—" I gestured at Brennin, "—that."

"Hey." Brennin grabbed my shirt and yanked me. "He's not doing anything. Doesn't work like that, smart guy. But you don't know anything, do you?" He released my shirt, pushing me away a little. "She agreed."

"She agreed?" I gawped at them. "She agreed to give her soul up, to you?"

Brennin shrugged. "Sure."

Tanner turned his face away.

"She didn't agree," I said. "You told her the same thing that they told you. You told her it would take her pain away. You're no better than they are."

Brennin struck me with the back of his fist, sending me flying across the kitchen into the stove. My back stuck the edge. Gritting my teeth, I kept from crying out, but I crumbled to the floor, the pain breaking through me in waves. Brennin squatted in front of me, his eyes blazing.

"I am nothing like them," he said in a cold hiss. His hand clamped down on my shoulder. "Now, wait here, Mr. White Rabbit."
16: Remember What I Said About Scary Vampire Love?

**E** nnis lay stone-still, her eyes closed. It reminded me of the first time I'd seen her as a vampire and, like the first time, Rafe was with us. This time though, he reclined on the bed next to her and Brennin held me tight by the arm.

"What'd you do to her?" I said spit flew from my lips.

Rafe examined me. "What happened to your face?"

"Tell me what you did to my sister."

Rafe swung his legs off the bed. "You know what I did to your sister, Nico. You were the one who asked me to do it. Have you forgotten?"

"Why aren't you dead?" I growled.

"The Ministry has always underestimated me," he said, "or overestimated themselves." He paused, giving this thought. "Either way, it's going to take more than a handful of half-starved acolytes to stop me."

"What will it take, exactly?" I asked.

"Nico,"—he bowed his head—"I wish it didn't have to be like this."

"Maybe you should've thought about that before you killed my parents!"

"Your anger is understandable," he said. "But at the moment, I have more pressing concerns. I'm taking your sister and I need you to come with us."

"I'm not going with you," I snarled.

"You will," he said. "You know that I needn't ask. That I do is nothing more than courtesy. I've brought enough tranquilizers to keep you and your sister subdued for some time."

"That's what you do, huh?" I said. "You kill, you kidnap. Whatever you have to do to get what you want. And how do you think my sister's going to react when she wakes up and finds out what you've done?"

He held my gaze for a long time. I stood there, Brennin clutching my arm, and I wished that my hatred alone could kill Rafe, that I could mold it into a weapon and strike him dead just by hating him enough. And when I thought about how I'd trusted him, more than anyone else; how I'd idolized him, been grateful to him for telling me the truth, for saving me, for saving Ennis for me. When I thought about all that, I didn't just hate him, I hated myself for being so gullible, so naïve. And worse, I missed it. I missed feeling like there was at least one person that I could count on to be straight with me through all this madness. But now who was there?

I was alone. I was surrounded by vampires.

"How your sister feels," he said, "depends a great deal on you." He stood up, hands behind his back and paced around Ennis's bed. "You might not realize," he said, "but you and your sister are unique. I know how much this interests the Minister, but not just her. There are others who, like the Minister, are searching for answers. When you have eternity, it's not an unusual endeavor to undertake—the attempt to understand the nature of our existence. Even the living, with their short lives, can spend much of their time pondering the same question. There was a time when I was amongst them."

He knelt beside Ennis, taking up her hand and pressing it to his mouth, not kissing it, but just holding it to his lips for a moment.

"The problem with vampires is not just that we're killers,"—he looked back at me—"but that we're so often alone. This is what I came to realize, Nico. Why do you or I or any of us, living or vampire, exist?" He rose to his feet once more. "For one another. Take your sister, for example. If it weren't for you, for your need of her, then she wouldn't be here. And she, unlike any other vampire I've ever known, stays with you, protects you. From an outside perspective, another vampire might think that she was merely guarding her prey, but I know better." He ran his fingers over her forehead.

"She's different. She's not waiting until you're old enough so she can drain you. She's waiting for you to grow up, grow old, have a life. And I know what she would do"—his gaze fixed on me again—"to ensure that you have that opportunity."

"What are you going to do?"

"Give her what she wants," he said as if it were obvious. "But I can't do that here. This is a Ministry city and as long as it is, we're not safe."

"We were safe until you showed up," I snapped.

"That's not what you thought before."

"You lied to me!"

He cocked his head. "I tried not to," he said. "But once I discovered you didn't remember what had happened to your parents and that Ennis had never told you the truth, I couldn't see the benefit in revisiting the past. Too much has changed since then. I've changed."

"You still killed my parents." I could barely breathe; my throat was so tight.

He nodded. "And I am sorry, in hindsight."

I snorted, my voice reedy high. "Right, you're sorry. You're sorry that you can't use me to get to Ennis anymore."

"But I can," he said. "And I will."

"I won't let you."

"But you won't have any choice," he said. "Because you feel the same way about Ennis as she feels about you. You both want the other to be safe."

"You won't hurt her."

"I'll do whatever it takes," he said, his tone blunt and chilly, "to get what I want."

"Even if it means you have to kill her?"

"You can't comprehend," he said, "what it's like for me. I thought I could wait, but I can't tolerate this..." He clawed at his chest. "If I can't be with her, then no one will."

"You're sick," I spat. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to make you both see that if you want the other to be healthy and happy, then it would be wise for your sister to stop running from me and for you to give up your useless enmity." His eyes gleamed hard. "Else I will give you and your sister cause to run."

"You can't hold us prisoner forever," I said.

"Not you, I can't," he said.

"And what about you?" I said to Brennin, who had been assigned as my bodyguard as I shoved handfuls of clothes into a backpack, doing my best to remember to breathe. "What are you going to do once your boss skips town?"

He leaned lazily against the door. Ever since he'd come out of Tanner's grandmother's room, he'd been much more focused, calmer, almost serene. It was irritating.

"I'm going to take over this town," he said.

I was, of course, waiting for an opportunity to escape. I knew Ennis could take care of herself. And I didn't really believe that Rafe would kill her, at least, not if he could help it. But he had to make me think that he would. Otherwise, I wouldn't play along. And I would, as much as I needed to until an opportunity presented itself. The trouble was I couldn't think of a single way to get out. Not with Brennin's and Rafe's super-vamp senses and speed.

"Oh yeah?" I meandered around my room, not sure what to take. I hardly had anything. Ennis had never gone back to the storage unit to get the rest of our stuff. But I wasn't anxious to leave either. Once I was in the car with Rafe, it would be much more difficult to get away.

"Yep," Brennin said. "The Ministry's not as strong as Rafe thinks. They're having trouble recruiting, which is why they turned to teenagers. All these cheesy romantic vamp flicks make teenagers an easy sell."

"You look like one of them," I said, rummaging through a half-empty drawer.

Brennin chuckled. "I know. That's why Cassandra was into me," he said, "dark and broody and dangerous."

I'd forgotten about Cassandra. At school, after the fire, I'd caught glimpses of her in the hallway, but I'd been too wrapped up in my own worries to pay attention to her.

"Is it going to happen to her too?" I asked. "What happened to you?"

"For most people, it takes longer," he said, offering me a humorless smile, "losing their souls."

"I don't get it," I said. "I thought vampires just drained the stuff that makes the soul, the stuff in the blood. I didn't know they took the soul itself."

"Most don't," he said. "But the Ministry wanted to stop killing people. And they don't kill. They just take souls."

"But how?"

He shrugged. "It's hard to explain to someone living." He gave me a hungry look as if he just remembered I was prey. "It has to do with how you drink their blood. Doing it over a long time."

"So, you're stealing Tanner's grandma's soul, I mean, really taking it and making it your own?"

He gave me a slow nod.

"What's that like?"

His brow furrowed and he shifted, discomfited. For a second, I thought he might turn all crazy again and flip out on me, but when he spoke he sounded hurt, vulnerable.

"It's changing me," he admitted. "I'm still me, but I'm not the same. I'm not like I was before I was a vampire, I'm becoming someone else."

He gave me a pleading look as if begging me to understand. I didn't really, but I tried to appear sympathetic just to keep him talking.

"What do you mean, someone else?"

He shook his head. "It's like, I have these thoughts about stuff that I never had before, thoughts about kids, especially, like I want to... hold them and protect them. And dreams about places and people I've never seen, but they all look familiar." He raked a hand into his hair. "And I feel bad, sometimes, really bad about being what I am."

I wiped the surprise off my face as soon as I realized it was there, hoping that he hadn't caught sight of it.

"Rafe says all vampires experience that," I said, "guilt. Because their souls are still human, but they're vampires. Vampires have to kill. I guess the more of a soul you have, the worse it is."

His eyes widened as if he had just had a revelation. "Maybe that's why the old-school members of the Ministry can't stop stealing souls," he said. "They've got really intense souls, like,"—his hands came together around an invisible ball—"super concentrated, you know? It's because they've been stealing souls for so long, they're all layered and dense in there. They can't kill humans anymore, not even if they wanted to, because their souls won't let them. So, all they can do is keep stealing the souls, even though they know what it does."

I'd been edging toward the window, thinking that twenty feet wasn't that far down, but his little revelation stopped me. "Yeah, but wouldn't that make them feel bad too?" I asked. "I mean, stealing people's souls, making them..." I was about to say, like you, but thought better of it.

"They have to survive," he said, turning stony. "It's basic instinct, Nicky, for all of us."

"This gets more twisted by the minute," I said, frowning at the window. "And none of it would've happened if I didn't have this white soul."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that," he said, taking on a friendly tone. "I've been watching you and your sister since you got into town and I'm not so sure that it's you."

"Huh?"

"See, when your sister would go out, hunting or... you know, whatever, and left you alone for a couple of days, your soul got darker," he said, sitting down on the bed, a light of excitement in his eyes. If he weren't so pale, I might've mistaken him for just another teenager. "And your sister, she's been hunting criminals, like anybody who comes along. Most of us have to stalk our kill a while, unless we're desperate. But she's been killing after just a day or two of watching them, you know? And the weird thing is, her soul hasn't changed at all."

I gripped the edge of the dresser behind me, leaning back. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Pretty sure."

"So, what's that mean?"

He bobbled his head as if weighing the possibilities. I had to admit that despite the fact that he was turning Tanner's grandmother into a soulless zombie, Brennin was a much better vampire when he had a soul.

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe that... it's her."

"It's her what?"

"She's what makes your soul white," he said.

"Wait." I held up my hand. "You're saying, she's a soul bleacher? But _her_ soul's not white."

"No, it's not," he agreed. "But her soul never changes. It's always just gray, like, no matter who she kills. Your soul changes, when she's not around. But her soul never does."

I stared at him. "How is that possible?"

"Got me," he said. "It's just an idea, you know?"

"Have you told Rafe?"

"No," he said. "I figured he knew already. He's been watching you and your sister for years, hasn't he?"

"Practically my whole life," I muttered.

"He's got it bad for her," he said.

"Do you think that it would work on anybody?" I asked. "The soul bleaching, I mean."

He shrugged. "Got me. Why?"

"No reason," I said, though I had plenty of reason.

If what Brennin guessed was true and it wasn't that I had a white soul, but that Ennis's proximity to me made my soul white and that she could make other souls white too, then I could imagine something like that might prove useful to vampires who spent most of their time stalking and watching people's souls, just to catch the slightest fluctuations. I couldn't grasp the full breadth of the implications, not knowing precisely how Ennis's ability worked, or even if it did work, but I guessed that it could prove pretty invaluable in one way or another. Just the fact that Ennis didn't have to sit around, watching her potential victims constantly, would have to be a bonus to most vampires. Unlike Brennin, I didn't think that Rafe had made the link, maybe because he hadn't been watching the shifts of her soul as she hunted like Brennin had, or maybe because he was so obsessed that he had tunnel vision. Either way, I felt like I had gained an upper-hand somehow, but didn't know how to use it.

"How are you going to stop the Ministry?" I asked.

"How do you think?" he said like I was dumb. "I'm going to kill them."

"Yeah, but how?"

"One by one." He shot down his fingers like they were miniature members of the Ministry.

"And what about Cassandra?" I asked. "What happens to her?"

"She's still got most of her soul left," he said. "I'd been at it for years before I brought her in. If it stops now, she might still even get some of it back, you know, she's young. The soul grows, if you let it. What? Do you like her?"

"No," I said, my ears turning hot. "But I don't like the idea of her losing her soul. Or anyone losing their soul, for that matter."

He inspected me and then broke into a grin. "You like her." He stood and clapped me on the back. "Don't worry, bro. As soon as I finish off the Ministry, she'll be free. Except, you'll be gone."

"Why doesn't Rafe stay and fight them?" I asked. "If he hates them so much?"

"He's a little single-minded," Brennin said. "Your sister is all he thinks about. The Ministry just got in the way."

"Yeah, but he's been fighting them for years."

He nodded. "As far as I know. That's why he made me a vampire. Because he knew I wanted revenge as bad as he did. But that was before your sister gave him the cold shoulder, you know. I guess once she comes around, he'll get back to them." He grinned to himself. "The Ministry talks about him like he's the devil. You know, Satan, he used to be an angel, one of them, but then he turned against them and does whatever he can to make them miserable. Pretty soon, they'll be talking about me like that. Or not, because they'll be dead."

"The Ministry's all over the world, right?"

"I don't care about the world," he said. "I'll take this city. That'll be enough for me."

The crash of busting wood had us both on our feet. Brennin pushed me behind him, toward the window. Downstairs, glass shattered, feet pounded, someone howled.

Brennin growled. "Ambushed," he muttered. He looked back at me, his face rifled by some decision he was trying to make. Finally, he seemed to make it. He pushed my jacket into my hands.

"Put that on," he ordered.

The noise was getting closer, moving up the stairs. It sounded like Ennis had brought a whole vampire demolition crew.

I stuffed my arms into my jacket. Brennin yanked a knit cap onto my head.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he threw the window sash open

"Hold on," Brennin said, grabbing me.

The next moment, he flung us through the window. We hurtled into the darkness.
17: Through the Window Glass

**I** heard a snap as we landed. As quick as I could, I clambered off of Brennin, who had broken my fall and, from the sound I'd heard, a bone or two as well.

Before he could get up, a dark figure leapt upon him and they wrestled across the backyard.

I scaled the fence, dropping into the alley. The smell of garlic hit me at once. I squinted through the dim light at a slim silhouette in the shadows.

"Josh?"

"Let's get out of here," he said, shoving a skateboard into my hands.

"What are you doing here?" Still dizzy from the fall, I staggered. Cuts stung all over my body. He lifted a garland of garlic from around his neck and dropped it over my head.

"That'll cover your tracks," he said, dropping his board on the ground. "Let's move."

He was off before I could ask any more questions. Without anything else to do, I followed, pulling my head together enough to balance on the unfamiliar board and keep up, though he was faster than I was.

Before long my neighborhood fell behind us. We coasted down broad, smooth sidewalks towards the heart of the city. The streetlights grew brighter and I cowered under each one, like a fleeing convict evading prison searchlights. The houses gave way to sleek offices and apartment buildings. At a corner, Josh stopped, snatching up his board and ducking behind the hard steel edge of a building. I followed suit.

He waited a long moment, scanning the roads behind us.

"I don't think they followed," he said, barely winded, while I puffed, nearly gagging for breath.

He waved me after him. "Come on."

He led me to the entrance of the building and punched in a code on the keypad next to the spotless glass doors. We entered a bright, airy lobby, decorated with squared bold-hued furniture and modern art. The security guard at the semi-circle desk gave Josh a bored nod. Josh waved his hand at the grey-haired guard like he was telling him not to bug him. The guard eyed me, but considering that I was bleeding from various gashes and wore a garlic-bulb necklace, his attention was hardly what I might have expected.

In the elevator, Josh swiped a keycard before pushing the button.

Once inside, he leaned back, staring up at the softly glowing ceiling as the elevator silently carried us to the fifteenth floor. His black T-shirt was torn at the collar and splattered with tiny flecks of something white, maybe paint, maybe toothpaste or dandruff. His camo shorts hung off his stick frame, the hems at his calves. I just stood there, shell-shocked.

In the crisp, quiet elevator and the wide hall that I followed him through to his apartment door, he looked like a thief or a vandal. But his keycard and another code opened the door into a spacious, mostly white apartment. The stainless-steel laden kitchen opened to the living room with its wall of towering windows overlooking City Park.

Of all the questions I had to ask, the first one I got out was, "You live here?"

"When I have to," he said. "This way."

Up a set of stairs to a catwalk suspended over the living room, to a door plastered with skate stickers and into Josh's room. A junkyard of clothes and skateboard parts, books, and video games. A massive TV on the wall, a single bed jammed against another, a drafting table sat under the window, on which were scattered parts of a model airplane. A couple of bean bag chairs were discernable amongst the piles and mounds. Josh dropped into one.

"You can take that off now," he said, pointing to my garlic jewelry.

Coming back to my senses, I slipped it off my head.

"Where is your mom?"

"Who knows." He shrugged, reaching under the table where a mini-fridge covered in stickers was blending in with the clutter. "Want a soda?"

"Got water?"

He pulled a bottle of water from a case that was sitting next to the fridge and tossed it to me.

"What's going on?" I asked.

He popped open the can of soda. "You tell me."

"What were you doing outside my house?"

"Cassandra told me," he said. "She said the Ministry was going there."

I groaned. "You're not a donor too, are you?"

He choked on his soda. "Hell no."

I flopped onto the edge of his bed. "Then how do you know about all this?"

He shrugged. "I can see stuff."

"Say what?"

He sat up a little straighter and looked at me squarely. "I can see stuff. Like vampires and stuff."

"What do you mean, you can see them? Of course, you see them."

"No, but I can really see them," he said. "I can tell a vampire from a human."

"How?"

"I've always been able to," he said. "I can see all sorts of stuff."

"Like what?"

He shrugged again. "Stuff, it doesn't matter. Look, you're in deep shit."

I pressed the water bottle to my forehead. "You don't have to tell me."

"So, what are you going to do?" he asked, leaning back as if waiting for my genius plan.

"I have no idea."

He made an indistinct noise.

"You knew," I said, still fighting through the shock of my escape. "You knew about Tanner and Cassandra and Brennin? About the Ministry, about what they're doing?"

"Yeah, I knew," he said.

"And you didn't do anything?" I asked.

"What was I supposed to do?" he asked. "You want me to call the cops?" He held his fingers up to his ear and mouth, like a phone. "Hi, officer. There are vampires, help." He pulled a face at me.

I slouched, the back of my head falling against the wall. "They have my sister."

"Your sister is one of them," he said.

A flare of anger. "She's not like the rest of them."

He gave me a dubious look but didn't say anything.

The dull stings of various wounds reasserted themselves. "Do you have a first aid kit?" I asked.

He pushed out of his chair, notching his head for me to follow him. We went into a spacious bathroom, which appeared to be his, but did not look much used. I peeled off my shirt and washed my wounds. Josh inspected the ones on my back and chest, to make sure there wasn't any glass in them, and then we disinfected them and covered the ones that were still bleeding, though most had stopped.

"Brennin helped you," Josh said as he stuck Band-Aids to my back, like stickers on his door. I leaned against the sink, not looking at my reflection in the mirror.

"He's working for Rafe."

"That's the new badass in town," he said. "The one that's stirring up all this trouble."

"Sounds like the Ministry stirred up plenty of trouble on their own," I said, defensive, though I had no idea why.

"The Ministry's been around," Josh said. "Things haven't blown up like they are now for a long time. People are going to start to take notice if too many more buildings burn down. The Ministry never liked to draw attention."

"No wonder," I grumbled. "Might interfere with their soul thieving."

"What's this Rafe dude want with you? Your white soul?"

I gave Josh a sharp look in the mirror. "Does everybody know about that?"

"Only those of us who can see it," he said, unfazed by my death-glare.

"He wants my sister," I said.

"Yeah, well." Josh lofted an eyebrow. "She's pretty hot."

"How do you know?"

"Tanner told me." He grinned. "There you go." He slapped some of my freshly mended wounds. I flinched and cursed.

"All patched up," he said.

"What's up with Tanner anyway?" I turned around. "He's letting his grandma turn into a zombie so that he doesn't have to go into foster care?"

"Have you ever been in foster care?"

"No. Have you?"

"No. But it's not our call. And Brennin will be a lot better off with a complete soul. You never knew Tanner's grandma. she would do anything for him."

"Even give up her soul?"

Josh was unaffected. "Maybe."

"It doesn't bother you?" I asked, following him back into his room.

"I'd much rather have Tanner around and Brennin _con_ soul, than the other options," he said, grave.

"And Cassandra?"

"She's a big girl," he said. "She can make her own decisions."

"Did you tell her what they're really doing to her?"

He frowned at me. "What do I look like? Why would I want to get involved? So they can burn my house down? No, thanks."

He dropped down onto his bed, flipping open a magazine.

"Then why'd you help me?" I asked.

He didn't look up. "As far as anybody else knows, I didn't."

I tugged my shirt over my head. "But why did you?"

"Brotherhood of the board, man," he said. "I wasn't going to bust in and take on any vamps, but—" he lifted his eyes to me, "—I figured you'd make a run for it. It's the smart thing to do. I was just going to be there, in case you needed a hand. You're welcome by the way."

"Thanks," I said, not sounding particularly grateful, though I was.

I stood there for a moment, trying to get my thoughts together.

"Do you think they killed him?" I asked, not that I expected an answer.

"Your sister's boyfriend?" Josh clarified. "Nah. That guy's tough. I heard he and Brennin took out four of the Ministry just last week. They only sent three after him this time. I don't think they're really trying to kill him. I think they're just trying to scare him off."

"Then they're idiots," I said, "because he was just about to leave."

Josh stopped pretending to read the magazine. "That's interesting."

"Yeah. He was about to take me and Ennis out of town. He doesn't want to be here any more than they want him here."

His brow furrowed. "Weird."

"Understatement of the year," I said, snorting. We both broke out in stupid grins.

He tossed aside the magazine. "Why was he taking you?"

"Because he knows my sister won't go anywhere without me," I said. "He thought that if he could control me, he could control her. She's been... uncooperative."

"Playing hard to get?"

"He killed my parents."

He inhaled sharply. "Sorry."

I shrugged him off. "It's my fault. He killed them to get to me. And then Ennis died and that was my fault, too." I sat down next to him, my head falling into my hands. "She's a vampire because I asked him to make her one. I guess zombies and vampires are less scary than getting dumped in the system."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Josh said. "We're all just trying to stay sane."

"As long as Rafe's around," I said, "he's never going to stop chasing my sister."

He took a deep breath. "So, you need to get rid of Rafe."

"Yeah, but how?" I asked, holding out my hands as if waiting for the answer to drop from the sky. "I mean, why wouldn't the Ministry want him dead? Brennin told me they talk about Rafe like he's the devil. Wouldn't they do whatever they had to do to kill him?"

"No way," Josh said, leaning against the wall behind us. "You can't kill the devil."

"Why not?"

"Because then who's your bad guy?" he said. "If there's no bad guy, then how do you know that you're the good guy? You can't have one without the other."

"They're letting him terrorize them so that they can feel better about themselves?"

"Not exactly," Josh said. "Think about it like this, who's Superman without Lex Luthor? Batman without the Joker? Everybody needs somebody to help them know who they are. If this Rafe is the Ministry's Lex Luthor, then they need him. It's how they define themselves, against him."

I kneaded my temples. "Yeah, but he's killing their members."

"I guess he hasn't killed anybody important enough," Josh said.

The dull ache in my head subsided as a thought was born into my mind. I froze, as though moving might scare the idea away. But once I had firm grasp on it, I turned to Josh.

"Who's the most powerful vampire in town?" I asked.

"The Minister, for sure," he said. "She's old. And she's got this crazy soul. It's stratified and hard, like a jawbreaker."

"Do you have Cassandra's number?"

"No, but I could get it. Why?" He looked at me suspiciously. "You've got a goofy light in your eyes."

"Do you think Cassandra could get me a meeting with the Minister?"

He straightened up. "Maybe, but why would you want to do that?"

"I'm going to give the Minister a reason to kill the devil." 
18: A Plan So Crazy... It'll Probably Get Me Killed

**J** osh didn't try to talk me out of it. I don't know what I expected, but I guess I thought he would at least play devil's advocate. Instead, he got Cassandra's number and I left a couple messages on her phone.

While we waited, Josh and I played the latest skating game, our eyes glued on the screen with an undeviating focus our teachers would have sold their souls to receive. Josh didn't even ask much about my plan, just listened and nodded. I didn't know if he thought it was a get me a good plan or he was just attempting to resume his stance of non-involvement.

The plan was based on a lot of assumptions, but I was desperate and not exactly an expert at plotting a murder. Maybe Superman didn't want to kill Lex Luthor, but if Lex was willing to kill to get something Superman had, then Superman might not have any other choice. And I was banking on the hope that I had something that Superman would kill to keep Lex from having.

When Josh's cell phone rang (mine had been confiscated by Rafe), he handed it to me without answering. I flipped it open. My voice sounded hoarse like I'd been screaming or crying or both.

"Hello?"

There was a brief pause. "Nico?"

"Cassandra."

"Why do you want this?" she asked.

"That's not really your business," I said.

"You're making it my business," she said, sharp. "If you want me to contact the Minister for you."

"I doubt the Minister would be very happy if she found out that I'd tried to get a hold of her and you prevented me."

"Nico," Cassandra lowered her voice, "what are you doing?"

"Can you set up a meeting with the Minister or not?"

"Maybe."

"Call me back when you have an answer," I said, taking the phone away from my ear.

"Nico," she said, "wait!"

Hesitant, I brought the phone back to my ear.

"Are you there?" she asked.

"Yes."

"You should run away," she said. "Just leave. Anywhere would be better than here."

"Why don't you run away?" I asked, my tone brittle. "You know what's happening to you."

"I know what you tell me."

"You think I'm lying?"

"You could be."

"Why would I?" I asked. "I'm not the vampire."

I hung up.

She called back about an hour later. A meeting had been set up. She gave me directions in a curt, business-like voice and told me to be there in half an hour.

I handed Josh his phone.

"You're really going through with this?" Josh asked as I pulled on my hoodie.

"Yep," I said. "Can I borrow this?" I lifted the board he had loaned me earlier.

He nodded. "Things might get pretty hairy," he said.

"I'm counting on it."

"What if she loses?"

"Then there's one less soul-sucker in the world," I said strongly. "I count that as a win."

"Who knew you were the altruistic type."

"Thanks for the help," I said, opening his bedroom door.

"Hold up." He reached behind the headboard of his bed and took out a sheathed hunting knife. He held it out to me. "Just in case. It won't take a head off, but it might buy you some time."

I took the knife, it was similar to the hunting knife that Ennis had left in the vamp at the diner. It had good weight.

"Thanks," I said.

"Hey, Nico," he said as I started through the door.

"Yeah?"

He looked at me as if inscribing my face into his memory like it might be the last time he saw it. Maybe it would be. This thought turned my already squirming stomach into a flopping fish out of water.

"See you later," he said.

I moved quickly away from Josh's apartment, once I was a few blocks away, I slowed. My racing heart wanted me to keep up, but I needed to make sure I was trackable. If I wasn't, then my whole plan was a waste. I also realized it was possible that Rafe hadn't survived the last fight. If true, I was compromising myself needlessly. But in my gut, I knew he was still alive. And I knew he was looking for me.

The address Cassandra had given me was in a neighborhood I'd never been to before. It was brand new, most of it wasn't even built yet. Those houses that were had for sale signs in their freshly sodded lawns. It took me over an hour to get there, by the time I did, it was nearly 2 a.m. and pitch-black out.

I stopped outside the house, a sprawling mini-mansion. There were heavy curtains over the broad windows, the faintest slivers of light leaked out around the edges. I was seriously thinking about taking Cassandra's advice and running away. After all, it'd worked pretty well for me in the past. I was still alive anyway. If Ennis had known what I was doing, she would've tried to stop me, but she was Sleeping Beauty, waiting for her evil Prince Charming to find her little brother so he could use me as a bargaining chip to get her to stay with him. I just hoped that he was as single-minded as Brennin had claimed. And that he got here soon.

I knocked, even though there was a doorbell. My knock was weak-wristed and half-hearted. And when I heard its pathetic little sound, I scolded myself. If I was going to do this, then I had to go in strong. I didn't want the Minister to think I wasn't making a serious offer. Just as I raised my hand to knock louder, the door opened. Cassandra.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, angry.

She glowered at me. "You asked me to set this up, remember?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Are you coming in or not?" she stepped back to let me by.

_Damn_ , I thought as I walked inside. I hadn't expected Cassandra to be there. She might get in the way and that was the last thing I needed on my already overloaded conscience.

The house looked like a showroom. The furniture was spare and cream-colored. The pictures on the walls were chosen for their inability to inspire any feeling. Everything was neutral and designed to disappear in a potential buyer's imagination.

"This way," Cassandra said.

"Hold up," I said, taking her arm to stop her.

"What?"

I opened my mouth, but I had nothing to say. There was nothing I could say without tipping her off to my plan.

"Forget it," I said, letting go of her.

She gave me a dour look and guided me upstairs.

Behind a set of paper-thin double doors, in what might have been the master bedroom, but was instead set up like an office, with a large circular meeting table, was the Minister. She wasn't alone. Verna was there, looking worse than the last time I'd seen her. She had a large bandage wrapped around her wrist, and blood was seeping through. There were cuts on her face, already fading, though I was sure they were as fresh as her wrist wound. In addition to Verna, there were two other vamps I'd never seen before. A gangly blond with milk-blue skin and sour green eyes sat with his elbows on the table and his thumbs pressed against the bridge of his long, flat nose. In another corner of the room was a lean woman, her curly hair viciously red, her casual posture deceptive, like a panther.

"Nico," the Minister stood from behind her desk. She was wearing deep purple, in the same loose, wrapped style as before. "How unexpected to hear from you."

Cassandra stayed by the door. The lights were dim and though there were plenty of shadows, I knew that they could see me clearly. I hoped I wasn't sweating visibly.

The Minister came around her desk, clasping her hands before her. They were all watching me.

My throat was dry and tight.

"I needed to speak to you," I managed to get out, barely.

"Indeed," the Minister said, warmly. "For what purpose?"

_Right to it then_ , I thought. _God, I hope Rafe is nearby_.

I checked over my shoulder, Cassandra was still there.

"Cassandra," the Minister said. "Please excuse us."

Cassandra looked like she might argue, which gave me some hope that she wasn't entirely without will, but after shooting me one more disgruntled look, she left.

"Would you care to sit?" the Minister asked. "Perhaps something to drink?"

The other vampires were so still that it might've been easy to forget they were there, except I couldn't afford to be unaware of anyone.

"No, thanks," I said, putting some strength in my voice, I went on. "I came to make you an offer."

"Of what manner?" she asked.

I clutched the trucks of Josh's deck so hard that it felt like I might sever some tendons.

"Me," I said.

The Minister's eyebrows rose, just a little.

"You?"

I nodded again. "Rafe's after me."

This caused Verna to shift and the blond at the table to take his hands away from his face. Panther girl stayed just where she was, her eyes flashing in the light.

"Indeed," the Minister said.

"He won't stop," I said, adding roughly. "He killed my parents."

"Rafe is..."—the Minister pursed her lips—"persistent."

"My sister tried to protect me from him," I said, "but... she loves him. She won't admit it, but she does. I can't trust her."

"And what makes you think you can trust us?" the Minister asked.

"Nothing," I said. "Except I know that you don't kill people. Rafe told me. And Brennin. And they hate you, so I know that, at least, if I'm with you, I'll be safe from him."

"He'll still come after you," Verna said, harshly. "And we'll have to fight him off. And your sister."

"My sister won't fight you," I said, "if I tell her not to."

Verna snorted. "So you claim."

"She wants the same thing you do," I said, "She doesn't want to kill people."

The Minister nodded. "Yes, I know the torment of your sister's soul."

"And you know that I have a white soul," I said. "Brennin told me that you might find that of some interest to your studies. And I'm willing to do whatever you want if you can keep Rafe out of my life."

For a second, I felt all of them focusing on me, like four laser beams striking one point of my body, heating me up.

"As you can tell,"—the Minister broke the visual attack—"we've had some difficulty with Rafe." She gestured to Verna's wounded arm. "Verna nearly lost her hand tonight. And if we took you in, we would be inviting further aggression."

"Rafe will keep on attacking you," I said, "whether I'm here or not."

I didn't mention that, in fact, Rafe had been about to leave town.

"Brennin will too," I said. "He and Rafe want this town for themselves."

Okay, a half-truth, but I hoped that it would stand up to the vampiric scrutiny.

I was getting anxious. I didn't know how much time had passed, but it felt like hours. I wondered how long I would have to stay until Rafe came after me. I was prepared to stay as long as it took, but I was also hoping that Rafe's patience was truly at its end, as it had seemed at the house. Like I said, my plan was constructed on little more than assumptions and hope. What I needed now was to convince the Minister that I was something worth keeping and most likely, fighting for; so I played my ace and hoped it would be enough.

"I know," I said, as strongly as I could, "why my soul is white."

This got everyone's attention, even the Panther girl straightened up.

"You're lying," Verna spat.

I met her glassy blue eyes. "Am I?"

Her eyes narrowed, but they were clouded with doubt. I turned back to the Minister, who was inspecting me with renewed intensity.

"Maybe it's not something you're really interested in," I said as if I didn't know either way.

"How do you know?" the blond asked me, his voice dark and skeptical.

"I figured it out by accident," I said. "Actually, it was Brennin who helped me. He said something and it just clicked. I could be wrong, but..."—I looked again at the Minister—"I'm not. I guess you could ask him, but I doubt he'd tell you."

"Why then?" Verna demanded. "Tell us."

I shook my head. "Not until you agree to help me and I know that I'm safe from Rafe."

I could feel the tension in the room spike. The blond and Verna exchanged glances; the Minister and the Panther kept their eyes entirely on me.

"And how do I know that you will uphold your end, once we have dealt with Rafe?" the Minister asked.

"I guess we'll just have to trust each other," I said. "If I'm going to trust you not to suck my blood, then I guess you'll have to trust me to tell you what you want to know."

Suddenly, all the vampires went stiff, gazes shifting to the door behind me—

Brennin kicked them open. Rafe strolled in behind him

_Thank god._
19: Not According to Plan

**"R** afe," the Minister said calmly. "How are you?"

He had Cassandra by the back of the neck. He pushed her to the floor. I flinched but didn't move as she crawled toward the wall.

"Exhausted." He took a few steps into the room, smiling at Verna. "How's the hand? Reattached, is it?"

Verna sneered.

Rafe fixed his gaze on me. "I only came for what's mine."

"And what would that be?" the Minister asked. I was caught between them, and though it was exactly what I had wanted, it wasn't the most comfortable spot in the room. Cowering by the wall with Cassandra would have been preferable.

"This troublesome boy." Rafe seized my arm before I had a chance to evade him. "His sister will be displeased if he's not there when she wakes."

"I can imagine," the Minister said. "Well, you have him. Now leave."

I was dumbstruck, I couldn't even protest. My mind just went blank.

Rafe put his arm around me, my neck in the crook of his arm.

"Your protégés are rather disappointing," he said. "Don't make them like they used to, I suppose."

"Is there something else you want, Rafe?" the Minister asked, cold.

"You know what I want," he said.

"Don't be a fool," she said. "You have your woman, the boy. Take them, go."

Rafe patted me on the chest. "Pleasure as always, Minister."

He steered me around and led me to the door.

I tore free. He wasn't even really holding me.

"That's it?" I said, stammering. "You're just going to let him take me?"

The Minister gazed at me, indifferent as the air. "What did you expect?"

Rafe took my arm, tightly, and dragged me out. As we passed Brennin, Rafe gave him a short nod. Brennin lingered on the landing, outside the door, as I tripped down the stairs behind Rafe.

When we reached the bottom of the staircase, Brennin attacked.

"Rafe!" I heard the Minister shout in rage.

Rafe kept walking as shouts and yells and crashing ensued upstairs.

The commotion grew louder. At the door, he paused and looked back, speculatively.

"I don't expect him to win," he said, opening the door. "But if he does, all the better."

He pushed me ahead of him, as he did, I pulled the knife from my pocket, spun, and stabbed him in the throat. Caught off guard, he stumbled.

I stabbed him again.

He grabbed my wrist, his face hardening.

I kicked him.

Blood was soaking through his button-down blue shirt in slow, dark splotches.

I hit him with my free hand and kicked him as hard as I could. In the tussle, we tripped out the front door and he hit his head on the edge of the front step.

I raised the knife, again and again. I kicked him onto his back and stabbed him in the chest, over and over.

I was covered in blood. It was everywhere. Rafe was motionless, but I couldn't stop. I was crying. My skin was cold, but I was burning up.

"Nico."

Someone was saying my name, but my ears were full of screaming. I was screaming.

"Nico!"

Cassandra jumped back as I turned to her, the knife raised.

I stared at her for what seemed a long time before I really saw her. I was out-of-breath and dizzy, on my knees over Rafe's bloody and mutilated body. Slowly, I let the knife fall.

Cassandra approached me cautiously. She was bloody too, but the stains didn't appear to be hers.

She knelt beside me, pale and shaking.

"The hands," she said. "You should cut off his hands."

When I didn't move, she pried the knife from my fingers, which were stiff as stone. With some concerted effort, she cut off Rafe's hands. As she did, I started to retch. I turned away and vomited off the side of the porch.

"Nico," Cassandra put her hand on my shoulder, which was heaving though I had emptied my stomach minutes ago. I looked up at her. She held the knife out to me. "Put it in his chest, in his heart."

I stared at the knife that was coated in blood.

"You want it over, don't you?" she asked.

I nodded vaguely. After a moment, I took the knife from her and returned to Rafe. Or what was left of him.

"There," Cassandra said, pointing to the spot.

I took a deep breath and drove the knife into his chest.

I'd washed the blood away and burned my clothes. Cassandra was sleeping in my room, in my clothes. I didn't know how she could sleep. Anytime I closed my eyes, all I saw was blood.

I sat on the bed next to Ennis and waited.

Sometime that morning, she woke.

I told her what had happened. She listened, expressionless as always. But when I got to the part about killing Rafe, she reached for my arm, to comfort me, but I moved away.

"What about the Minister?" she asked, her eyes still glassy from her drug-induced sleep.

"I don't know," I said, throughout I'd been on the verge of tears, but they were drying up and I felt eerily calm.

"And Brennin?"

I shook my head again.

She was quiet for a time. I didn't turn to look at her. I stared at my fingers, intertwined in my lap.

"I'm sorry, Nico," she said, her voice, finally, giving up some emotion. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you. I'm sorry for what you had to do."

"I'm not," I said.

And I wasn't. I was glad Rafe was gone, for good. I hadn't really killed him. As he'd pointed out, vampires aren't actually alive anyway. I'd just finished what should have happened a long time ago. Not that I felt good about it. I felt sick whenever I thought about it, about the blood, the feel of it, the sight of it, the smell. But now it was over.

"We can leave," Ennis said. "Today, if you want."

"No," I said, firmly.

When Ennis touched my shoulder, I jumped. She gazed up at me, tears in her eyes.

"Are you sure?" she asked, in a broken voice.

I looked into her too-green eyes, searching for some trace of the soul that I'd trapped in this monster's body. But I couldn't see it. I could see the tears, the pain on her face, but I didn't know who she was crying for and I didn't want to know.

"You need to stay away from me," I said before I realized what I was saying.

Her face went blank.

"If you want to protect me," I said, "then you really need to stay away from me, as much as possible."

"Nico—" She slid to the edge of the bed. I stepped back.

"You're the reason my soul's white," I said.

"What?" She dropped the hand she had been reaching toward me.

"You make my soul white," I said. "It's not me at all, it's you. When you go away, my soul gets darker, Brennin told me. So..." I faltered, even though I couldn't see my sister's soul, I knew it was in there, somewhere, and I knew I was hurting it. "If you keep away, then my soul should get darker and I won't be in any more danger than anyone else."

She sat there, motionless. Maybe she was still in a drugged-up stupor. Maybe she was wondering if what I said was true.

"Finish the house," I said. "Then move out. I'll stay here, you can watch me... like vampires do. You can call me. I still need you,"—my chest hurt—"for a couple more years."

Tears welled up in her eyes again and this time, I didn't doubt why. But I was right and we both knew it.

"After that—" I said, my throat tightened and I couldn't get the rest of my words out.

I turned to leave but hesitated.

"Everyone thought it was me," I said. "That I was special because I had a white soul. But it was you all along. You're not like the rest of them, Ennis. Don't forget that."
20: That Night

Ennis

**T** he house was dark and quiet. The stoop had been scrubbed, but I could smell the blood.

I pushed open the door, lingering on the other side, taking in the scents of the night before. I could smell who had been injured, who had been killed. The tang, like cold metal, hung in the air, each marked by subtle distinctions. The Minister hadn't died, or at least, hadn't spilled any blood in the house. All of her followers had perished though; Rafe had underestimated Brennin. And Brennin was alive. I knew because he was still there, somewhere upstairs. And he wasn't alone.

I drifted up the stairs, torn, wishing I could turn back.

Every plush carpeted step upward carried me closer to the truth, which I'd been avoiding ever since I'd become trapped in this body that was mine and not mine—so familiar and yet so alien. At the moment that I'd opened my new eyes and felt the agony of my soul, pressed into its prison, sealed in by the blood of the innocent, I'd hated this afterlife; this lifeless life.

But when Nico had sat down on the bed and told me what had happened, what he'd done, the feelings that I'd kept chained and suffocated, nearly overwhelmed me. If it had been anyone but Nico, I would've killed him then and there. Because I was not like him. And I knew that now.

At the landing, the carpet still saturated with blood, I hesitated again. The doors were closed.

When I pushed them open, I found Brennin on the floor, his head drooping between his knees.

There were bodies. Not the members of the congregation, those bodies had long ago decomposed, collapsing to dust as soon as the last of their stolen blood had slipped from their veins. These were bodies of those not-so-long-ago alive. Five of them. A pretty blonde, in a jog bra, her iPhone on her arm still playing the latest dance hit. A homeless man, the story of his life etched into the deep lines of his face. A teen, hardly older than Brennin, a gun in the waistband of his jeans, loaded, never touched. A man in faded blue coveralls, face down, smelling of engine grease and gasoline. And an old woman curled up like a baby, her tufts of white hair not as white as her skin.

Brennin had brought them all, not for himself, but for Rafe, who sat with his back against the far wall, waiting, watching through bleary eyes. His clothes were shredded, little more than bloodied scraps. His fingers twitched every now and then of their own accord, as the nerves healed their severed ends. The stitching around his wrists was as slapdash as a movie-Frankenstein's. Though he was skinny and pale, an emaciated wax-figure of his former self, he was recovering. His soul was dark, churning in turmoil, having to take in whatever Brennin could find him.

I knelt beside him, seeing him clearly though there was no light.

"I knew you'd come," he wheezed.

I kissed his desiccated lips, holding his skeletal face in my hands.

"You won't hurt him," I said, pressing my nose to the hollow of his cheek. "Promise me."

"For you," he said.

I kissed him again.

"The Minister fled," he said, once I'd pulled away. "Brennin said she left the city."

"You'll go after her?"

"I won't be going anywhere for some time," he said.

"Do you want me to?"

"No." He let his head fall back against the wall. "There'll be a time. She'll pay." His dark eyes closed. "My soul, it's—"

"Ssshh." I kissed him again "Don't worry."

His eyes cracked open. "It's so dark."

"Not for long." I cradled him. "I'm with you." 
21: Last One

Three Months Later: Christmas Eve

**"A** re you sure this is okay?" Tanner asked as he'd asked dozens of times before.

I ground my teeth but kept silent.

"Absolutely," Ennis said, holding out the document to him. "Your grandmother gave me custody. They'll be hoops, but nothing we can't handle."

Tanner kneaded his hands together. "But you're a vampire."

Ennis smiled. She glowed in the soft white light emanating from the Christmas tree, like an angel.

"And I'm trusting you two to take care of each other," Ennis said, rising from the recently purchased couch. "And this house, I put a lot of work into it."

I hung back, by the chocolate-hued accent wall. It was hard to imagine two teenage boys maintaining the upscale aesthetic, but Ennis had a cleaning service coming twice a week and a personal chef every weekend to prep meals. Officially, she had paperwork that made it appear she was working for an international corporation, which required that she travel. I had no idea where she was going really, though I doubted it would be very far. While I put up a stoic façade, which had been coming easier these last few months, I wasn't happy to see Ennis leave, even though I'd been the one who had asked her to go.

Ennis laced her hands in front of her. She was wearing a cream-hued sweater and brown silk pants that matched the furniture like she was trying to blend in and disappear already.

Tanner tapped the court papers against his knee. His grandmother had died shortly after Brennin had disappeared. Though he'd asked me repeatedly, I didn't know how Ennis had been named his guardian in the will. Ennis had worked her vampire mojo on anyone who questioned it too closely. I might've pressed her about it, but I suspected she'd done it more for me than for Tanner. She hadn't wanted to leave me completely alone.

"Tanner, would you give us a moment?" she asked.

"Uh..." Tanner glanced over his shoulder at me. "Sure."

Since I'd killed Rafe, I'd avoided spending time alone with Ennis. Maybe I was trying to distance myself for what I knew would be the inevitable goodbye; maybe I didn't want to face up to the many unresolved issues between us, or maybe I was just a little bit afraid of her. She was different. Even more different than before. When I looked at her now, all I saw was the vampire.

Tanner went upstairs, trundling as if carrying a heavy weight.

Ennis stayed where she was, next to the Christmas tree displayed in the front window. The curtains were open. She had opened all the curtains in the house. I knew what it meant.

"You're leaving now?" I asked.

She nodded, her gaze falling on me softly like snow.

"Are you going to tell me where?"

She shook her head.

"Why not?"

"Because it's not important," she said. "You can call me whenever you want." Her voice softened. "But you won't, will you?"

I shrugged, gazing hard at the dark wood floor, the soft pale rug.

"Cassandra's soul is coming back," she said. "But she's a very troubled young woman."

"Who isn't?" I muttered.

"Be sure to keep your grades up, both of you," she said. "Otherwise, we'll draw unwanted attention."

I took a deep breath, not responding.

She picked up a small box from under the tree and held it out to me.

"From me to you," she said.

Reluctant, I took the slender box, wrapped in subdued white paper with tiny gold stars embossed on it. I ran my fingers over it.

"Did you love him?" I asked, my voice rough.

She didn't flinch.

"Yes."

"Even after what he did?"

"Yes."

"Because he crowned you?"

"No."

"Do you miss him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"You did what you had to do," she said. "And he deserved it."

"You think so?"

She nodded vaguely. "Yes."

"Do you think the Ministry will be back?" I asked.

"No."

"How can you be sure?"

"I can't," she said.

I inspected the small box. It was light like there was nothing inside. I swallowed hard.

"Brennin was right about you being the soul bleacher, wasn't he?"

She nodded again.

"What does that mean?"

She raised her shoulder. "Hard to say."

"How does my soul look now?" I asked.

She smiled. "Dingy."

"That's how it should be, right?"

She nodded.

After a moment, in which neither of us moved or spoke, I let out a deep breath.

"You can go now," I told her.

She nodded. Taking her leather coat from the stand, she looked back at me.

"I'll miss you, Nico," she said. "I loved you the best I could."

"I loved you too." Burning pressure built behind my eyes. "I miss you."

She smiled, opened the door, and was gone.

I stood there for a long time, listening to the silence of the house and the winter wind scraping across the windows. I sat down on the loveseat, the cushion firm and unused. Finally, I slid my finger under the tape and pulled the box out without tearing the wrapping paper. It was a nondescript cardboard box.

I took off the lid.

Inside, a peanut butter chocolate chunk cookie, and a note:

_Last one._
22: Saved

Ennis

**T** he car waited outside.

"How did it go?" Rafe asked.

I watched the window, the Christmas tree in the center—a lonely pillar of light in the dark.

"He'll be alright," I said.

Rafe ran his hand over the back of my hair. "You'll be alright."

"He never really needed me," I said. "He only thought he did."

He kissed my temple. "I didn't save you for him."

I gave him a rueful smile. "Is that what you did? Saved me?"

Rafe ran his thumb over my cheek. The scars on his wrists were not entirely gone. But they were light enough that they looked years old already.

"I'm selfish," he said. "How do you think I ended up in this hell?"

"And you've damned me too."

"Do you hate me?"

"Yes."

"I know."
Epilogue

Five Months Later

**"H** ey, Tanner," Josh stuck his head into Tanner's room. "You want to come?"

"Nah." Tanner shook his head, bent over his desk, a deep furrow in his brow. His room was tidy, though his desk was strewn with thick books and loose papers.

I hung in the hall behind Josh. I knew Tanner wouldn't want to join us at the skate park. Since he'd moved in ten months ago, he'd been possessed with studying. He went out of his way to find extra work. I, on the other hand, was barely keeping my grades average. And the decent grades I did get were mostly due to Tanner, who would, with some cajoling, go over my homework and fix enough of it to keep me from failing.

Josh shrugged, and we left Tanner to solve whatever world problems he was fixing.

"Such a loss of talent," Josh said. "He never skates anymore. It's not healthy."

"Yeah," I said, though I didn't really care. Tanner could do what he wanted. I wasn't about to get on his case for communing with his inner nerd.

"Wait a minute," Josh said. "I want to tighten up this truck."

He pulled out one of the dining room chairs and tossed his bag onto the table. After a minute of rummaging, in which candy wrappers and half-drunk bottles of Gatorade were purged from his bag onto the dining room floor, he found his wrench.

"I heard Cassandra's dating that douchebag, Greg," Josh said, as he bent over his skateboard.

I shrugged.

"That's okay, I always thought she was crazy," Josh said, eyeing me carefully.

I looked back at him, grim. "She's not crazy."

"So, you're not over her yet?"

"Why are we talking about this?" I asked. "Since when do you talk about anything but skating?"

"Just wanted to make sure you're doing alright," he said. "You haven't exactly been Mr. Stability lately."

"What does that mean?"

"Come on," Josh said. "You know what I mean."

"You got something you want to say?"

Josh rolled his eyes. "I am saying it. Fighting. Cutting class. You're drawing attention, bro, and it's not the good kind. I get the whole sullen, bitter bit, okay? But you need to be careful."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Who are you? My father?"

"Hey." Josh tossed the wrench back into his bag, "you know I don't say shit. So maybe you can take it seriously when I bother. Want to think about it?"

I chafed at Josh's calling me out.

So what if I cut a few pointless classes? So what if I taught a few mouthy pricks at the park a lesson? They deserved it. But Josh was too easygoing for me to turn my wrath on him. Even if I tried, I knew it wouldn't faze him. And Josh had been the steadiest presence in my life since Ennis had left. Tanner was around and he was a good friend, but he was distant. He had his own emotional mess-ups to deal with. In our own ways, we were just trying to maintain. I guess Tanner was taking the better route, but I couldn't focus enough to be an apple-polisher. As soon as I sat down in class, I felt like I needed to escape. The desk, the room, the building, they were successively larger prisons. I could barely stand to be there at all. I felt pretty good about the time I did manage to put in.

Josh sighed. "I'm just looking out for you."

I nearly told him to shove it. Anybody else, I would have.

I sat down at the table. "I can't help it," I said after a moment. "You know?"

He remained somber. "Dude, you've got to try," he said. "You know what's going to happen if you don't."

"What? The school's already called Ennis. They met with her, or so I hear."

"Have you seen her?"

"No," I said. "And I don't want to."

"Don't you?" And then before I could respond he said, "You've been grieving. There's nothing wrong with that."

"She's not dead," I said, "exactly. She won't even tell me where she is."

He leaned in close.

"She _is_ dead," he said. "It would be easier if she were just gone, but she's not."

I ran my hands over my face. "I thought it was what I wanted... What I needed, but—"

"You needed to let her go. But now, you've got to step up, man. Take responsibility for yourself. There's a reason she hasn't come back to see you. She's a vampire. She's dead. She _should_ be dead. And you'd be better off if you thought of her that way."

I grimaced because he was right and I knew it.

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" I said. "I was the one who told her to leave in the first place."

He put his hand on my shoulder for a second. "And I know it's been rough, especially since you have to talk to her still. But what you're talking to, that's not your sister. That's your sister's prison guard. The vampire is like, a whole other thing—a parasite, that invaded your sister. The only way out for her is death."

I kneaded my temple. "She would've been dead if it weren't for me."

"You can't feel bad about what happened to her," he said. "Or what you did to Rafe. That was the right thing to do."

My hands knotted together so the knuckles bleached white. "I killed him."

"Repeat after me: He was already dead," he said. "You set him free."

I bowed my head. "That's not how it felt."

"How did it feel?"

I shook my head, unable to capture the storm of my thoughts in the bottle of words.

"You can't feel bad for putting an end to a vamp," he went on. "There are people who spend every day trying to do what you did. If they'd pulled off what you did, they would be celebrating, right now."

I looked up. "What? Who?"

"Vampire hunters."

"Seriously?" I gawked. "That's really a thing?"

He watched me for a long moment. "There's a whole network of them."

"You know them?"

"He nodded.

"They're here?"

"If you wanted, I could introduce you to one. But..."

"But what?"

"But I need to be sure that you won't warn your sister."

"What do you mean?" I sat up straighter. "Someone's hunting my sister?"

"As long as your sister is a vampire,"—his eyes were flat and hard, unforgiving—"someone will be hunting her."

I stared. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Because I didn't know where your loyalties were," he said. "I wasn't even sure you really wanted Rafe dead. A hunter's biggest defense is anonymity. The moment a vamp finds out there's a hunter in town, the hunter is in danger."

"Isn't someone hunting vampires always in danger?"

"Sure, but hunters have a lot of different methods to kill vamps. It's hard to sneak up on a vampire. The best way to kill them is to get close. Like what you did with Rafe." He smiled a little. "Which is the only reason I'm mentioning this." He tapped the table thoughtfully. "It's been mentioned that you might be interested."

"Interested?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"You mean, in hunting?"

He nodded, examining my face.

My head was swimming. I couldn't believe we were having this conversation. I hadn't meant to kill Rafe, not exactly. The plan had been to get the Minister to kill him.

I'd only done it because I couldn't think of anything else to do; in fact, I hadn't been thinking at all. It was such a blur. The thought of doing it again made me sick to my stomach, and yet, I wasn't totally put off either.

"I think you're ready to talk to her," Josh said and took out his phone.

We were back at Josh's high rise apartment. I'd been there many times over the year, but it had always been just me and Josh. So, it surprised me when he opened the door and the lights were already on. And there was someone sitting on the couch, her back to us.

"Hey, Moms," Josh said, locking the door behind us.

The woman turned around and I stopped dead.

"You," I breathed.

Tammy rose from the couch, smiling in a non-threatening manner. I turned to Josh.

"Tammy's your mom?"

"My name isn't actually Tammy," she said. "But you can call me that, for now."

"But you're part of the Ministry."

Josh shook his head. "Cover," he said. "She was trying to get close to the Minister."

I stood there in shock for a long time.

"Why don't you sit down, Nico?" she gestured to the couch.

I looked again to Josh, who nodded at me as if to reassure me it was okay. But I didn't feel okay. I felt like once again, the floor had fallen out from under me. Finally, with some major effort, I shuffled over to the couch.

Tammy eased down onto the chair across from me, smiling still. Josh hovered between us, the same kind of electric energy sharpening his eyes that lit them up when he was about to try something really dangerous on his board.

"You threw quite a wrench in my work," she said, "when you went after the Minister. I didn't expect for it to turn out like it did."

"Me neither," I said.

She chuckled softly, tucking her straight black hair behind her ear.

"No," she said, "I guess not."

My senses were starting to return. "You hunt vampires?"

She shook her head. "I do just what they do to us. I find them, I stalk them, I try to get close to them if I can, and then I kill them."

"But how?"

"How do I kill them?"

"No, how did you become a hunter?"

"That's a long story," she said. "But many hunters have certain special abilities."

"Abilities?"

"Yes, like Josh," she said. "He can see things, many things, souls, vampires, just like I can. That's often where it starts. You have a gift too."

"I do?"

She nodded. "You're impervious to them. I can't tell you how sick I am of eating raw garlic just to stave off their power over me. It's one of their most dangerous tricks, being able to alter their scent to lull and stupefy their victims."

"Yeah," I said. "It's dangerous."

"But it doesn't affect you," she said, watching me a bit too closely. It reminded me of how Rafe and Ennis watched me. "That is valuable." She took a deep breath. "And you've drawn the attention of some of my colleagues. They think that you could be very valuable for what's to come."

"And what's that?"

She and Josh shared a silent moment.

"Your sister," Tammy said, looking back at me. "She's different from the others."

I ran my hand over my mouth. I wondered if they knew what made her different. I didn't think I'd told Josh about her being a soul bleacher, but then, if he could see my soul, he would know that it wasn't as white as before. Had he put two and two together?

"So?" I asked.

"So, we're keeping an eye on her," Tammy said. "And her associates."

"Associates?"

Josh opened his mouth as if to interject, but Tammy held up a hand, stopping him.

"Brennin is still alive," she said.

"He is?"

She nodded slowly, holding my gaze. "He's still trying to regain what he lost of his soul," she said, "and your sister is helping him."

"Why would she do that?"

Tammy shook her head. "You might be surprised at the alliances some vampires are able to form. The Minister was a master of such things and speaking of which, the Minister's work continues, elsewhere. And it must be stopped."

"Yeah, but what can I do? I'm a fifteen-year-old kid. I'm nobody."

"That's not true," she leaned forward. "You're somebody very important. You're important to Ennis, and Ennis is becoming more important all the time."

I gaped at them.

"You want me to kill my sister?"

"She's not your sister," Josh said, but Tammy held her hand up again, stalling him.

"We wouldn't ask you to do that," she said. "But you could help us."

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. My head was pounding. They were asking me to betray my sister, or at least, the vampire that had my sister's soul inside of it. I was having trouble making the distinction.

"Don't answer now," she said. "Just think about it. We'll train you. Teach you everything you need to know to defend yourself, to be self-reliant, how to fight them, how to trick them, how to stop them. Stop the ones like Rafe. The murderers, Nico. You can keep them from taking anyone else's parents. Just... think about it."

Josh

"Do you think he will?" I asked Moms after Nico had left.

"Hard to say," she said.

"Why didn't you tell him?" I asked.

"You know why," she replied. "It's too raw for him. We need to get him prepared, mentally. We need to bring him over to our side of thinking first. So he won't go off half-cocked again."

"If he finds out we knew, he won't trust us," I said.

"Then he won't find out," she said in a warning tone. "Eventually, he'll learn that Rafe is around. When he does, and he learns who it was that kept Rafe alive, hopefully, he'll kill them all—Rafe, Brennin, and his sister."
A Soul Darker: Book Two

Prologue

**H** e licked his lips. They were dry. Too dry.

"Where am I?"

The redhead was beautiful—slim, pouty-lipped, glowing green eyes. She gazed placidly at him from a folding table positioned in front of his cage.

That's right, a damned cage, smaller than a dog run.

His knuckles were swollen and bruised from slamming his fists against the steel bars. His throat ached from screaming for hours after the first time he'd woken and found himself trapped in a deserted warehouse—high ceiling, exposed steel beams, distant halogen lamps spreading faint halos of light on cold gray concrete. After a while, he'd passed out again, stinking of his own urine.

When he'd woken the second time, he'd found his wrists bound behind him and this woman watching him. The redhead.

Yet he couldn't locate that burning rage anymore. In fact, he couldn't feel much of anything.

_Drugged, probably,_ he mused. The thought didn't spark even the faintest flicker of emotion.

The redhead flipped open a folder.

His eyes narrowed. "You a cop?" he asked. He examined her slacks, silk blouse, and expensive leather flats. "Lawyer?"

She ran her manicured nails over the top sheet in the folder, ignoring his questions. Definitely a lawyer. He'd had dozens. None of them worth a damn. But if this was a holding cell, it wasn't like any he'd seen. And he'd seen plenty. The rope cutting into his wrists wasn't standard-issue either. His pulse began to race. Sweat broke out over his face, running into the stubble on his cheeks. He shoved back into the corner of the cage.

"Where am I?" he asked again, cringing at the high-pitched strain in his voice.

Was that his voice? He didn't panic. He never panicked.

Her gaze was on him again, fixed, unblinking. She interlaced her fingers on top of the papers.

After a moment, his heart-rate slowed. The needling claws of panic retracted. His breath evened out.

Had he been upset? He couldn't quite recall.

"I have a couple of questions for you." Her voice was soft and melodic—an angel's. "Will you answer them?"

He nodded.

"Your name?"

His mouth seemed to move of its own accord, the words simply tumbling out. "John Michael Olsen."

Giving him a small smile, she nodded. His body relaxed further, sinking against the bars. The cage wasn't so bad. He'd been in worse places. Hell, he'd lived in worse places.

"John Olsen." Those crimson lips curved upward, friendly, sympathetic. She was on his side, he could tell—he just knew. "Have you ever hurt anyone?"

His head was nodding again. The dark-place voice growled for him to shut up. But he didn't have to listen to that voice anymore or feel the things it wanted him to feel.

He smiled back at the pretty lawyer.

"Yes," he confessed.

"Who have you hurt?" she asked.

"People," he said. "Lots."

She nodded encouragingly. "Tell me."

He did. The petty thefts, the burglaries, the rapes.

And it felt good to confess to the green-eyed angel.

So good. Like cleansing his soul.
1: My Sister the Vampire Hunter

Molly

**"G** et down," I whispered.

Gia rolled her turquoise eyes and sank into her seat again, which was reclined flat in the back of the SUV. The woman who'd picked us up at the campground, Tammy, or so she called herself, glanced over her shoulder.

"Everything alright back there?" she asked.

Gia snapped her gum, gazing up at the ceiling of the cab. "Fine," she said dully.

I scowled at her, but as usual, she ignored me.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Hopefully, someplace you'll be safe," Tammy murmured, though she didn't sound convinced.

I chewed on the string of my hoodie—a habit I hated, but couldn't seem to break.

"And someplace we'll be of some use?" Gia asked, propping up on her elbows. Tumbles of black hair spilled down her shoulders, glossy even though it had been days since either of us had showered. The state park campground we'd stayed at for the last two weeks had been primitive. But at least there'd been toilets and sinks. These days, I was grateful for the little things—you know, like being alive. My older sister on the other hand...

"I'm sick of sidelining it," Gia told Tammy. "I can do more than homeschool this one"—she notched her thumb at me—"and read reports all day."

I could see Tammy's lips purse, even if Gia couldn't.

Through the windows, a cityscape bloomed—glass and steel and multitudes of lights glowing brightly against the starless strips of sky.

"You must realize," Tammy said in a smooth tone that matched her flawless complexion and black eyes, "the restrictions placed upon you are for your own safety." Her voice turned pointed. "Last I checked, your pretty face still graces the Most Wanted Fugitives lists."

Gia's chewing doubled in speed. "Is it my fault that the cops don't know a human from a vampire?"

"Some do," Tammy replied. "Sadly, none in your hometown."

"What's a hometown?" Gia muttered.

"What about this town?" I asked before the tension between Gia and Tammy grew any thicker.

The tenser people got, the harder it was for me to keep my mind quiet and private, and I hated it when I started to hear things I didn't want to. Besides, this was the twenty-second time we'd been moved since we'd fled home. The last thing I wanted was for Gia to burn yet another bridge before we'd even gotten across it. "Do the police know about vampires here?"

Tammy cleared her throat. "I'm not sure I can tell you—"

"Oh, come on." Gia gripped the back of the driver's seat. "Look, Tammy, or whatever your real name is. We've been around, okay? Yeah, I killed a vampire that the cops thought was a real person and I got pinned for a murder that blood-sucking douchebag committed, but that's not my fault. The cops might want me, but I didn't do anything you and your friends haven't done, or wouldn't do yourselves. Which is why you're protecting me and my sister, right? So, be straight with us. What's the deal here?"

My stomach sank. Why did Gia always have to be so... Gia?

"The deal," Tammy said as if she were talking to a child, which was often how I felt when I was talking to my sister, even though Gia was nineteen and I was only sixteen, "is that you and your sister are going to be staying in... . safe house." Tammy smiled as if enjoying a private joke. But the smile quickly faded. "Until such a time as we can transport you out of the country."

At this, I levered up onto my side, the seat belt chafing against my neck. "Out of the country?"

Gia blew a bubble and fell back with an _oof_. The bubble popped. "Told you."

"How else do you expect to live anything like a normal life?" Tammy's voice softened as she glanced back at me. "You're wanted for questioning, Molly. The police aren't sure if you're a victim or if you're a suspect. If they find you alive, which do you think they'll choose?"

I sank back against the leather upholstery, pulling my hoodie up over the scars on my neck and glaring across the cab at Gia. "I didn't do anything."

Gia's gaze slid over to meet mine, her eyes hard.

"That's right, little sister," she said. "You didn't do anything. You couldn't even save yourself. I had to do that."

Gum. Snapping.

My back teeth set. "When can we leave the country?"

"It hasn't been decided yet," Tammy sighed. City lights gave way to neighborhood streetlights, skeletal-white fading to rotting orange. "Believe it or not, you two aren't our highest priority."

"Gee, I never would've guessed," Gia drawled.

I balled my fists in my sleeves, indulging briefly in the fantasy of Gia choking on that disgusting cherry chew she was always smacking on. It made me want to gag.

But Gia had this stupid thing about red.

Red gum. Red lipstick. Red shoes. Anything red at all.

Maybe that's why she'd become such a bloodthirsty psycho. After all, what was redder than blood?

I was being mean and ungrateful, and I knew it.

After all, my sister had saved my life. You might think that owing my very existence to her would make me more forgiving of her personality quirks. And it might have, except... she was different now. Her obsession with red had never bothered me before. In fact, I'd sort of admired it, just like I'd admired her. She'd always been the popular one, the cool one, the pretty one. And when the time had come, she'd been the kickass one. And I'd been the almost-dead-on-the-floor one. Without her, I would have been dead.

But now my sister had a new obsession.

Vampires.

I wanted nothing more than to get away from them, for good.

Gia... well, she had other ideas.

"At the last place, we trained," she said to Tammy, unrelenting. "There was this guy, Chase. He was good. He taught us a lot, didn't he, Molly?" Gia asked, not really asking.

Well, maybe he'd taught Gia a few things, but that wasn't something I wanted to think about.

Before she'd taken a breath, Gia was talking to Tammy again. "You got someone here who can train us like he did?"

Gum. Smacking.

My teeth. Grinding.

"I've been informed of your..."—Tammy paused as she pulled into a narrow alleyway—"enthusiasm."

The SUV bumped and rocked. Fences loomed alongside us, trimmed with heavy shadows as the streetlights were lost behind the tangles of tree branches.

Gia sat up again, straight up, as if she didn't care if she was spotted, reported, arrested.

"Even if you send us out of the country," she said, "I want in. There are vampires everywhere, right?"

We turned into a short driveway. Tammy twisted around in her seat. Her eyes flicked from Gia to me, lingering. Like so many of the vampire hunters we'd met, I couldn't tell what she was thinking. And I didn't pry. Even though I was tempted to; I couldn't go down that road. Once I started opening the doors in my head, it was hard to shut them again. Although, sometimes, I couldn't help it. I didn't try to read people's minds, but some people's thoughts were louder than others and they just... found their way in. Not Tammy though. She was a perfect blank. Almost like a vampire.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened her door. "This is it."

"About time," Gia muttered, grabbing her bag and shoving open her door.

I unfastened my seatbelt and peeked through the front window.

A brick row house.

Most of the places we'd stayed had been remote. We'd never been kept in a big city before and even when we'd stayed in town, it had always been on the outskirts in some ramshackle.

I pushed open my door, snagged my duffle, and eased out. Behind me the fence was high and the neighbor's windows, dark.

I glanced down at my watch. The glowing tips of the hands pointed straight up. Midnight.

Hefting my bag on my shoulder, I shut the door as quietly as possible and rounded the front of the SUV, which radiated heat in the cool evening.

Tammy led us up a weedy walkway. Pale light shone through a small back window, illuminating the porch.

A bike was propped next to the back door—some kind of freestyle BMX. Empty Gatorade bottles and energy drink cans threatened to overspill the recycling bin. A couple of folding chairs were crammed into the corner by a small table, littered with various tools, skate wheels, a bike chain, more cans and bottles, and a pizza box.

My stomach rumbled. I would've killed for a pizza. We hadn't eaten anything but energy bars for the last two days as we'd been traveling. Actually, what I really craved was a homecooked meal, something big and hefty and wonderful, like my mom's lasagna...

My appetite vanished as my chest clenched and that all too familiar pressure built behind my eyes. But I wasn't going to cry. I knew better than to cry in front of Gia.

I clutched the strap of my pack as we mounted the steps, my feet dragging.

Tammy didn't hesitate or knock. She pulled back the screen door and then pushed open the inner door and strode right in.

Gia followed without hesitation.

I lingered for a second at the threshold, absorbing the alien scent of somebody else's house.

The air was stuffy as if the windows weren't opened very often. The laundry room was right off the back door, so the aroma of fabric softener greeted me first. Under that hung a musky odor, which took me a moment to identify.

Just as I realized what it was, two teenage boys came into the kitchen.
2: Jell-O Me

Nico

**"M** olly, close the door," Tammy said to the younger girl, the one with the big dark eyes who cowered like a scared little kitten.

She flinched, startled by the sound of her name, and hurried to close the door.

"Who are you?" the older girl demanded of us. Her eyes were incredible, the craziest shade of blue. In the dim light, they were luminous—almost like a vampire's.

Josh and I traded a look. I could tell he was thinking the girl was hot, and I wasn't about to disagree, but thinking it wasn't quelling the awkwardness I already felt about allowing a couple of fugitives to crash at my house.

"Gia," Tammy said in an ever-patient tone, "this is Nico, and my son, Josh. Nico is your host, so please try to remember that."

Gia had already lost interest in us. She scanned the kitchen, peeking around the corner into the laundry room, smacking her gum loudly.

The younger one, Molly, kept her back to the corner, staying in her sister's shadow, scrutinizing me like she was trying to see the color of my soul. That was easy enough. It was a nice healthy, un-vampire delectable shade of gray. Or so Josh told me.

"Host?" Gia repeated, tromping closer, forcing me to step back as she craned to peer over my shoulder into the living room. "You live here by yourself?"

The warm powdery scent of her mingled with the sweet sugariness of her breath. I was taller than her by a few inches, but she gave me a once-over that made me feel shorter.

"You're just a kid."

"I'm seventeen," I said, not sure if I was annoyed or what. Everything about this girl was overpowering, her smell, her eyes, the redness of her lips. Were they naturally that color or was she wearing lipstick? I couldn't tell, even close up.

She shrugged and stepped back. "Where you want us?"

Josh's dirty thoughts were practically scrolling across his face like a news ticker.

He may have thought this was a great idea, but I wasn't totally on board. Hot or not, this girl was wanted by the cops and I wasn't interested in drawing that kind of attention.

"Bathroom?" she asked before I could answer her first question. And then, she shouldered by me without waiting. "Found it!" she called and I heard the bathroom door click shut.

Beside me, Josh was grinning like an idiot.

Tammy turned to Molly, who remained in the corner by the back door, chewing on the string of her hoodie and looking like she wanted to melt into the wall.

"Are you hungry?" Tammy asked.

"Yeah, we've got some energy bars," Josh offered, pointing to the stack of boxes on the counter.

Molly's gaze flicked to the boxes and then back to Josh. She shook her head, just barely.

"I'll make a proper breakfast in the morning." Tammy rubbed her forehead in a weary way. She took out her phone. "I need to make some calls." She gave Molly a softer look. "You'll be safe here."

A dark pulse flashed over Molly's face. She dropped her head in the next moment, hood obscuring her features, saying nothing.

Tammy slid by Molly and onto the porch outside. Before the door closed, her voice drifted back inside, "Yeah, they're here."

My head was starting to throb. Why had I agreed to this? Like dealing with chicks at school wasn't tedious enough, but now I was going to have two of them in my house, in my face, all the time? If I hadn't already agreed to help the hunters in this, I would've pulled Tammy aside and told her to pack up the mouse and the tiger and find them someplace else to hide out.

Gia returned. Her presence filled up the air behind me the way a fire fills a room with heat.

"So, what's the deal? Are we couch-surfing it?" She scanned the ceiling. "This place seems pretty big. Got enough beds?" Her crazy blue eyes fixed on me again. "Posh too. You rich or something?"

"No," I said.

Josh clamped down on my shoulder like he was afraid I'd punch the girl. But I wasn't thinking of violence. I couldn't quite tell what I was thinking about this tiger-girl with her intense blue eyes and total lack of a filter.

"You know how long we're going to be here?" Gia asked me, dumping her dusty duffle onto the kitchen table. "I was thinking about dying my hair red, like... crimson." She looked between me and Josh. "You guys ever dyed your hair before?"

And then she reached out and touched my hair—just ran her hand right through the thick layers on top. The sides were shaved.

"Sick undercut," she said. "You do that yourself?"

Okay, so my annoyed thoughts sort of shorted out. A warm queasy sensation flooded me. Fortunately, Gia didn't seem to notice or maybe she was just used to rendering guys stupid. That seemed a real possibility.

"Where are your parents?"

I blinked, my brain slogging out of the haze. "Dead."

She nodded, pushing her tongue through the red film of her gum. "Ours too." She notched her chin at Molly. I'd forgotten she was there.

"Vampires?" she asked.

I nodded.

"You ever killed any?" she asked, leaning a hand on the back of the chair.

I nodded again.

She smiled. A kind of blinding spotlight smile that left me frozen, my heart pounding.

"Very cool," she said and hefted her bag onto her shoulder again. "Upstairs?"

Okay, now it was my turn to have wildly inappropriate thoughts. I only hoped they weren't as obvious on my face as they had been on Josh's.

"Yeah," I managed to croak.

"Come on, Molly," Gia said, starting toward the hall again. "Don't act like such a freak. This place seems cool." She flashed that brilliant smile at me again and added a wink. "Definitely better looking than any of the others."

She left me, staring after her, feeling like I'd been turned into warm Jell-O.
3: Hurricane Gia

Molly

**T** he next morning, Gia plopped down next to me, shower fresh and smiling.

I glanced across the table at Nico. His hazel eyes misted over, a pinkish flush was creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears.

I set my fork down, my omelet only half-eaten. Gia had done it again. She'd suckered Nico just like she did everyone. Grimly, I wondered how long it would be before they were sneaking off to slobber all over each other.

Two days, tops, I guessed.

"When are we leaving?" I asked Tammy, who was standing at the sink, drinking coffee, gazing out the window in a distracted way.

"We just got here," Gia said and then shoveled a forkful of cheesy omelet stuffed with peppers, onions, and mushrooms into her mouth.

Tammy set her coffee mug down on the granite countertops.

In spite of a not-often cleaned look about the place, it was nice. Way nicer than any place we'd stayed before, nicer than the condo we'd grown up in. But I wasn't going to pry into Nico's past to find out how he could afford such a place, or how he got away with living here on his own. Although Josh had spent the night in the room he referred to as Tanner's, I didn't ask who Tanner was or where he was. Gia had stayed in another room, the biggest one, with a huge plush bed and an en-suite bath. And I'd gotten a smaller guest room. But at least it was a room with a real bed and a door. I'd fallen asleep as soon as my head had hit the pillow. Not something I took for granted these days.

"I don't know when we'll be able to move you again," Tammy said. She cleared her throat. "I know you ladies have assisted with reports in the past and we have so many..."

"What about training?" Gia looked from Josh to Nico. "Are you guys training to hunt?"

"Sure," Josh offered quickly, cutting off Tammy who had been opening her mouth. "Nico's set up the attic. You can train with him." He reached over and seized Nico's bicep, giving him a bit of a shake, but it didn't break the spell Gia had cast over him. "Right? You can show Gia a few moves, can't you?"

Josh grinned and I resisted the urge to gag.

Tammy came and stood behind Josh, placing her hands on his shoulders. His grin dissolved.

"Nico is still learning himself," she said. "Gia, it might be better if you spent your time helping your sister go over the reports and keep up with her studies."

"Better for who?" Gia asked.

Tammy's eyes narrowed.

"I don't really need her help," I said. Not that I wanted to encourage Gia to spend any time with Nico. But if she was off playing vampire-hunter with him, at least she wouldn't be hanging around me all the time.

"Training to hunt is not an extracurricular activity," Tammy said, bringing out the adult-in-the-room voice. "Nico can't afford to be distracted—"

"I won't distract him," Gia protested.

Yeah, right.

"I don't get what the problem is," Gia said. "You guys need hunters, don't you? Why won't you train me? I want to learn. I want to help. I want to kill those bloodsucking pricks. It's not because I'm a girl, is it?"

Tammy crossed her arms. "No, Gia. It has nothing to do with your gender."

"Then what—?"

"Perhaps you'd prefer to discuss this in private—"

"What's to discuss?" Gia asked.

"Frankly," Tammy cut in, "there have been more than a few... stories that have given our organization pause."

Gia's fist white-knuckled on the table.

"What stories?"

"Gia," I said gently. "Just drop it, okay?"

"Shut up, Molly," Gia snapped, then turned back to Tammy. "I don't know what you've heard, or who's been talking about me, but—"

"What about Ohio?" Tammy asked in a low voice.

Gia's fork clinked against her plate. "That was just an accident."

"You almost stabbed an innocent person."

"I thought he was a vampire!"

"You almost got yourself, and your sister, caught," Tammy said. "You weren't supposed to be out of the house—"

"Okay, so he wasn't a vampire, but he was a creepy stalker. And I heard what happened later. He was arrested after he called the cops on me. That girl he'd been following had a restraining order against him. I sat there and watched him watch her for days, just sitting in his car outside her house—"

"And you could've told someone," Tammy said. "Instead, you snuck out and tried to stab him. He may have been a creep, but that's the police's problem, not ours. It was reckless and dangerous and it could've damaged our entire cause."

"And vampires don't sit in cars outside their victim's houses," I muttered.

"I'm glad to see one of you has been paying attention," Tammy said.

Gia shot me a deadly look but turned the brunt of her venomous glare onto Tammy. "So, I screwed up. Maybe if you'd let me train, I wouldn't—"

"Dealing with vampires requires subtly," Tammy cut in. "It demands patience and a cool head. Until you can demonstrate any of those qualities, Gia, the best way for you to help us is to lay low and stay out of trouble."

Gia shoved out of her chair. "I'm not a child. You can't tell me what to do."

"You're free to leave at any time, Gia," Tammy said, gesturing smoothly behind her. "There's the door. We took you in because we were sympathetic to you and your sister. And because we believed that the vampire who turned your stepfather might be searching for you... I believe _you_ were the one who introduced him to your family..."

"Bitch," Gia spat and turned on her heel, stomping up the stairs.

Where's an invisibility cloak when a girl needs one? Over the last year, I'd wished to disappear so many times, but so far, no such luck.

"Pretty cold, Moms," Josh said, his mouth full of egg. He hadn't stopped eating the entire time Gia and his mom had been battling. As he was scraping his plate clean, he started to eye mine. I drew my plate closer, frowning at him.

"She's a danger to all of us," Tammy said. "I don't know why—" Her gaze snagged on me as if just remembering I was there. Her lips pursed. "Is there anything you need, Molly?" she asked me after a moment, tone shifting to something softer, but I could tell it was false.

Most hunters were expert liars—not unlike vampires. They had to be. Tammy was right. From the reports I'd read, it seemed the only way to kill a vampire was to fool it long enough to get close to it. To make it think you were a willing victim, or maybe just a vamp-fan. I'd read plenty of reports on those types. People lost their souls, willingly, by letting vamps feed off of them for years. Some vampires had even made something of a religion out of it.

I shook my head to Tammy's question. Even though there were a few things I needed, I wasn't about to ask for them in front of Nico and Josh. I'd pull Tammy aside the next time I saw her, or slip her a note or something. I could get by for another month if I had to.

"I don't suppose I need to tell you that you can't leave the house," she said.

"I'm the one who pays attention, remember?" I muttered.

Tammy looked for a moment like she might say something more, maybe apologize, but it didn't matter to me if she pissed Gia off. I was glad she'd been straight with my sister. Somebody besides me needed to be. And it was a relief that I wasn't the only one who thought the last thing she needed to be doing was hunting vampires.

"Do you have any reports you want me to go through?" I asked, attempting to sound eager. I wasn't really.

Reading through local newspaper articles and police blotters and random messages from crazies all over the country wasn't exactly my ideal way to spend a beautiful spring day, but at least it passed the time.

"A whole slew of them," Tammy said, offering a tight smile in reconciliation.

Now that Gia was gone, the tension was ebbing away and the pressure in my head was abating too, thankfully.

"Do you have a computer?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"You can use mine," Nico offered, the dewy look gone from his eyes. Although he still had a bit of a perplexed, dazed expression, as if he'd just woken up. Poor guy.

I couldn't really blame him for falling under Gia's spell. She had that effect on every guy. But I was always hoping we'd run across one who wouldn't be so easily duped. Of course, Nico was too cute not to become a target.

Lanky and lean, he had that edgy look that might've been construed as trouble by most people, but being that I was trapped in the perpetual trouble-storm that was Hurricane Gia, I wasn't particularly repelled or attracted.

Not to say that I wasn't attracted. A girl would've needed to have her eyes removed not to find him good-looking. But Chase had been good-looking too. And like all the others, he'd gotten swept up by Gia and then, like all the others, he'd been tossed aside. By that time though, he'd been starting to look for a way out. I could see it sometimes, that anxious light guys got in their eyes after being around her for too long, like a rat trapped in a hole by a cat. Except Samuel.

We should've known by how long he was around, longer than any of the others, that there was something wrong with him.

Of course, I'd known there was something wrong with him right away. How easy it had been to be around him, no pressure in my head ever, and how hard he was to read—impossible. I just hadn't realized it meant he was a vampire.

In hindsight, I wished I'd said something. Even if I'd just told my mom that Samuel seemed off to me, she would've listened. She'd always listened.

Maybe things would've been different if I'd spoken up. Maybe she'd still be alive.
4: Come to the Dark Side... We Have Pepperoni

Nico

**M** olly hovered in the doorway, like a vampire waiting for an invitation. Except vampires didn't really need an invite. They could come in anytime they wanted.

"I've only got the desktop right now." I swept piles of dirty clothes off to one side with my foot. "My laptop got fried this winter."

She edged in, keeping her back angled to the wall, face half hidden behind the curtain of her dark hair.

"I can look at it for you," she said. "I might be able to fix it."

"Oh yeah?" I leaned over my desk and moved the mouse around to wake the machine. "That'd be cool. I've never really been that interested in computers. Either they work or they don't, you know?"

I typed in my password and then picked up the empty granola bar wrappers and stuffed them down into the garbage can. They pushed back up, a few toppling out. I was turning into a worse slob than Josh.

"Here you go," I said, pulling out the chair for her.

She shuffled closer, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, and I caught a glimpse of two tight little knots-scars-on her neck just before she tugged up the edge of her hood over them in an unconscious way. The same way she seemed to chew on the ends of her hoodie's strings.

"You and Gia are sisters?" I asked as she moved silently across the always creaking wood floor, avoiding all the crap I'd failed to pick up.

She gave me a look that probably could've curdled milk. "We don't look alike, I know," she said as if she knew what I was thinking.

I hadn't been trying to say anything about her looks, but when you had a sister as smoking as Gia was, it probably got old living in her shadow, always being compared to her, I could imagine. Yet, Molly seemed to prefer to live in the shadows.

She'd barely spoken a word since she'd arrived and she was so quiet when she moved it was easy to forget she was there. She might've been cute, if anyone could've seen her face behind all that hair, and who knew what her body looked like, it was drowning somewhere under her hoodie. She didn't seem to want to be noticed.

"We're half-sisters," she said with a sigh.

My throat tightened. "Oh?"

"Different dads," she muttered. "Not that either of them stuck around."

"I had a half-sister."

Wait... Had I just said that, out-loud?

Behind a swath of hair, big dark eyes gazed up at me. "Sorry," she said softly.

"What for?"

"You said 'had'."

"You really do pay attention," I said. "But she's not dead, exactly."

What the hell was I doing? I never talked about Ennis. Not ever. Not with anyone.

She tugged the string out of her mouth, frowning at it as if it had snuck between her lips of its own volition. And she just kept looking at me, like she was listening, like I was still talking, even though I wasn't and I hadn't meant to say anything in the first place.

"Vampires suck, huh?" she said finally.

I smirked. "Yeah."

She glanced at the computer. "How come you're not in school?"

"It's Saturday."

She blinked. "Is it?" She pushed back her sleeve, revealing a gold watch. It was delicate, diamonds around the face. And it was totally incongruous with the swirling black Sharpie doodles covering her hand and slender wrist.

"I lose track," she said, tugging her sleeve over her hand again. "It doesn't really matter what day it is."

"Finals are already over anyway," I said with a shrug, wondering just how much of her skin sported Sharpie art. "I'll probably bail on the rest of the semester."

"Won't you get in trouble?"

Not with a vampire for a sister, who could scent-stupefy the dean into overlooking my less-than-stellar attendance record.

Molly was watching me in that listening way again.

"Is it hard?" I asked.

Her eyes narrowed. They were so different than her sister's. Gia's were bright and burning and wild. Molly's seemed to be pulling light in, absorbing it. I'd never seen eyes as big and dark and... still.

"Being on the run?" I clarified.

For a moment, her face was completely blank, guarded, and I was reminded of a vampire—not being able to tell what they're thinking or feeling.

And then her dark eyes trembled and her hair swung back over her face and her voice turned soft.

"Yeah," she said. "It pretty much tops the list of Things That Suck."

"It's worse than vampires?" I asked.

The corner of her mouth curved upward. "Okay, so it comes right after vampires."

"Molly's Things That Suck list. Number one, vampires. Number two, running from the law."

She leaned over the computer, moving the mouse to open the browser. "Number three, spending a gorgeous day trapped inside... again."

I glanced out the window. Between the slats of blinds, clear blue sky.

Josh and I had planned to head down to the skate park for a while and then meet up with Tammy in the afternoon to go through our hand-to-hand training.

Not that anyone ever really had much of a chance in a fight with a vampire. The best anyone could hope for was to get in a surprise shot that would throw them off long enough to stake them or to get a car and peel out as fast as possible.

Molly pulled up the shared folder where hunters stuffed links and articles related to what might be vampire activity. I'd heard about it, but never actually seen it. All my time was spent learning how to fight, building up my stamina to be able to run fast and far and for a long-ass time, getting used to handling various weapons: guns, swords, bows, and even more mundane things, like kitchen knives and baseball bats. There were bats in every room in the house, usually propped by the door. I had one resting against the wall above my headboard.

I looked Molly over again as she scanned an article about some missing guy: John Olsen.

Her face seemed too thin, underfed. She was taller than average, I guessed. For as much of a mouse as she acted, she didn't come off as a waif. But the real question was, could she hold her own in a fight?

There was always a chance an uninvited guest might show up at my door. The Minister or one of her cronies, or worse, Brennin.

We hadn't heard any reports of him for almost a year, but I was sure he was out there, somewhere—that he hadn't been killed. But overall, things had been pretty quiet vampire-wise since the Minister had moved out of town.

I hadn't heard from Ennis either, except when one of my teachers told me they were going to call her in. They did, and then the next day, everything would be cool again. Like my teachers had simply forgotten how frustrated they were by my lack of dedication to my schoolwork.

Unlike my old friend Tanner, who had done nothing but bust ass at school for the last two years. He was graduating at the top of his class. He'd gotten religious too and had been given permission by the school to miss out on the last few weeks to go on a mission to Costa Rica or Puerto Rico or somewhere. I hadn't really asked. Even though Tanner had been living here, we steered clear of each other. He'd done his best to do the normal life thing after his grandmother had died. College in the fall, full-ride. Friends, dates, and church every Sunday. He'd been the freakin' prom king. He was doing his best to forget and move on. He was smart like that.

I hadn't even gone to prom.

I couldn't remember what normal was like. I wasn't sure I wanted to. Somehow, it felt wrong to think about normal things. Even getting all sweaty over Gia made me uncomfortable. Girls were a distraction. Getting involved with someone, a liability.

Except Gia wasn't a normal girl. Not at all. She knew about vampires. She wanted to hunt them too.

It hadn't occurred to me that I might meet a girl who knew the same things I did, who wanted the same things.

I wondered if she was still in Ennis's room.

Sure, almost stabbing a living person was bad, but I understood the desire to do something, to fight back. It was pretty much the only thing I understood these days.

"You think too loud," Molly murmured and then stiffened, straightening up. "I didn't mean to say that... I mean..." She blanched and shifted back, almost tripping over a pile of sneakers behind her.

I wasn't sure what she was getting all flustered about, but it looked like she might run away or turn into a pumpkin or something if I didn't speak up and I felt bad. I knew how much it sucked to have vampires screw up your life.

"Don't worry about it," I said, though I wasn't clear why she was giving me the big frightened kitten eyes. "I'm going to head out. Feel free to, you know, make yourself at home. There's not much in the kitchen, but you can have whatever. Uh... I can pick something up for dinner. What do you and Gia like to eat?"

"You don't have to—"

"Look, I know you don't like energy bars and that's pretty much all we have, so—"

"How do you know I don't like energy bars?" she asked.

"I saw the face you made when Josh pointed them out last night."

She went very still again as if she were trying to blend in with the furniture.

"Or I'll just pick up my fav," I said with a smirk. "Pineapple, red onion, and jalapeno pizza. Bonus, not even Josh will touch it, so there's always plenty."

She just stood there staring at me. I started to wonder if she'd lapsed into some kind of waking coma when she said, "Pepperoni."

I cocked my head. "You want a pepperoni pizza?"

Typical. Boring.

"No," she said. "Pineapple, red onion, jalapeno, _and_ pepperoni."

Now it was my turn to stare. "You're joking."

She squared her shoulders. "I don't joke about pizza."

I waved away her comment. "You're just being nice. Nobody likes my toppings."

"You're right. I don't like _your_ toppings," she said. "I like _my_ toppings, which must include pepperoni. You might as well not even eat it unless... are you a vegetarian?"

"No."

"Okay, well, have you ever tried it with pepperoni?"

"No, but—"

She crossed her arms. I could tell this was an argument she'd had before. Only... I was usually the one trying to convince people it was a great topping combination. Minus the pepperoni, of course.

"If you haven't tried it," she said, "then you've obviously been having incomplete pizza experiences."

"Oh, I've tried it," I said. "I've had it with sausage, Canadian bacon, chicken." I ticked off each one on my fingers.

"Chicken?" she repeated like I'd told her I'd smeared bird shit on my za.

"The point is, meat is unnecessary."

She held up her hands as if about to cover her ears and sing "Old McDonald" at the top of her lungs to block me out.

"I'm not talking about meat," she said. "I'm talking about pepperoni."

"Pepperoni is meat."

"No, pepperoni is better than meat. Real pepperoni takes time and care and patience. The smoky flavor brings out the sweetness of the red onion. I mean, it's like driving a car, or"—she placed her sneaker on the wheel of one of my boards and gave it a spin—"a skateboard with only three wheels."

"What are you two arguing about?"

We both flinched.

Gia leaned against the door jamb, frowning.

"What kind of pizza to order," I said.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Molly shift closer to the computer, retreating into herself again.

Gia's red, red lip curled. In the daylight, it was clear she was wearing lipstick.

"Molly's not trying to get you to eat that gross pineapple, jalapeno monstrosity she loves so much, is she?"

Inwardly, I cringed. "What kind of pizza do you like?" I asked her.

"Easy. Sausage and mushroom," she said.

I caught Molly's eye roll as she turned back to the computer and sat down.

"You and Josh can share then," I said to Gia. "And I guess I can try pepperoni, once, since you're the guest." I leaned over Molly's shoulder. "Not that it's going to change my mind."

"We'll see," she sing-songed almost too softly to hear.

"Thin crust, right?"

A glimpse of dark eyes flicked up to me, saying, _Obviously_.

"Glad we agree on something," I said.

"Are you going out? Now?" Gia asked.

My shoulders bunched. It had been a long time since anyone—any girl—had asked me about what I was doing.

"Yeah." I grabbed my jacket off the end of the bed and flipped the deck up into my hand, its wheel still spinning from Molly's toe.

She'd see. I wasn't going to be turned to the dark side—the pepperoni side. She could make salient arguments about cured meat and give me big kitten eyes all day. Nothing could come between me and my loyalty to my pizza.

"Oh." Gia pouted a bit, which was pretty sexy with red, red lips and bright turquoise eyes. And then she shrugged. "See you later." She hit me with that smile again and then before I had recovered, she was gone.

I stared at the spot where she'd been standing. She was like a camera flash, I could still see the afterimage of her pouting and smiling and fluttering her lashes.

"Shit," I muttered. I gathered my wits again and headed toward the door.

Behind me, I heard Molly whisper, " _Sucker_."

I'd forgotten all about her. I turned back, frowning. "What'd you say?"

She flinched like she'd forgotten about me too. She peeked over her shoulder at me, her voice tiny. "I didn't say anything."

I tossed my jacket over my shoulder. I wanted to argue with her, to call her out. I'd heard her, I was sure of that. But she obviously had issues with her sister and I wasn't one to give anyone grief over that. The issues I had with my sister could have filled every newsstand in the city. I decided to let it slide.

"Later," I said, and didn't wait for her to reply.
5: No 9-5 Joe

Molly

**I** was doing my best not to think about Nico. But it was hard when I was sitting in his room, surrounded by his stuff and his boy smell.

As much as I tried to focus on the articles, highlighting info that might point to vampiric activity and then copying it into the next folder up—the one for further investigation—my gaze kept straying from the screen.

Not that there was much to look at.

Clothes and garbage, mostly food-related. No posters on the walls, no books—not even a shelf to put books—no magazines or notebooks or photographs. Nothing.

I was disappointed. Especially after the pizza thing. I'd never met anybody who thought pineapple, red onion, and jalapenos sounded good. Even if he didn't understand the awesomeness that was pepperoni. I felt like if I could find something else about him, some horrible band T-shirt or a terrible book, something that sucked, I could put aside this weird feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

"You like him, don't you?" Gia said, making me jump.

"Don't sneak up on me," I snapped.

"I've been practicing." Gia waltzed into the room and dropped onto the rumpled bed like she owned it. "Tammy's wrong, you know. I can be stealth girl if I want to be."

I turned back to the article I'd been reading.

Some guy had gone missing not too far from here. He'd been older, had a rap sheet full of petty crimes and a drug problem. The article was short. It didn't seem like the police were all that interested in finding him. They suspected he might've gone off on his own, even though nothing had been taken from his house, not even his truck—which is why the article had ended up in the folder in the first place.

But something else about it was bugging me and I couldn't quite pinpoint what, especially not with Gia's gaze drilling holes into the back of my skull.

I spun the desk chair again. "What?"

"Do you?" She ran her hand over Nico's bedspread. A gray coverlet over a brown blanket and gray sheets. It was like he was deliberately going out of his way to be as generic as possible.

I faced the computer screen again to hide the heat crawling up my face.

"I just met the guy," I said, not adding, _And so did you._ Of course, that had always been her style, even before we'd gone on the run. Move in fast, love 'em and leave 'em,

"I don't want to step on your toes, little sister. I mean, I'm happy to let you have a shot at him if you think you have a chance."

"He's not a carnival game, Gia," I muttered, scanning the article again. Something about the story sounded familiar, and not just because I'd done little else besides read missing-persons articles for the last year.

"You don't know anything about guys," she said. "Of course, it's a game."

Then it hit me. "It's just like the other one," I murmured to myself.

"I poked around up in the attic," she was saying. "It's nice up there. He's got a treadmill, weights, a heavy bag, weapons. Did you notice all the baseball bats?"

"Bats?" I asked, only half listening. I clicked back through the folder, scanning the previous articles until I found the one I'd read hours earlier. John Olsen.

"I think our little skater heartthrob is worried he might have some company," she said. "Did he tell you anything?"

"About what?" I reread the article about John Olsen.

"About how he ended up in this house, by himself? I mean, did you check out the clawfoot tub in the master bedroom? Somebody threw down some serious cash to renovate this place."

"His parents are dead," I said. "He told you that himself."

But I wasn't really paying Gia any attention. John Olsen had disappeared a few months back. Again, older guy, rap sheet, mostly small-time stuff. Although, the article mentioned he'd once been accused of assault and rape but had never been convicted. And then he'd just vanished, taking nothing with him.

Normally, I wouldn't have given either of these articles much thought.

Because, frankly, vampires were snobs.

They tended to gravitate toward "nice" people. People who could be stalked and spied on and watched for years, whose souls' every fluctuation could be studied.

The criminal element tended to be less predictable. Or so I'd been told by one of the first hunters who'd taken us in and explained vampires—Joanie.

She'd been a heavy smoker, a butcher by trade. She'd had a great cackling laugh that had made me smile in spite of my misery and grief. Once I'd asked her, why don't vampires just live off homeless people? Wouldn't it be safer? How many people would notice if a homeless guy disappeared?

Everyone in town had noticed when my mom and stepdad hadn't turned up for work. My stepdad had been a friggin' cop.

Joanie had leaned back in her recliner, smoke dangling between her lips.

"That's why," she'd said, "because the homeless move around too much, same with criminals—in and out of jail. That's an awful waste of time for a vampire. They need people who do the same thing, day in, day out. They like banker Ted, nurse Betty, 9-5 Joe. Those are the ones they can rely on. Vampires form a routine around their victims' routines. More efficient that way. They're not hunters. They're farmers. And we're the livestock. They like us to stay in our pens, our fenced fields, so they always know where to find us when they need us."

At the time, I'd found Joanie's nonchalant attitude unsettling. My own tragedy had been too fresh. And when I thought about Samuel like that, a farmer, and my family, his cattle...

It still got to me if I dwelled on it, but I was pretty skilled at letting thoughts skate by... most of the time.

Except when they kept straying back to Nico.

Gia was still talking. "I wouldn't mind hanging around here for a while. That Tammy is a stick-up-the-butt, but she'll come around. I can play nice, especially if I have Sexy Undercut to play _with_."

My teeth ground. Nico was attracted to Gia. Even if I hadn't been able to read his thoughts, it would've been obvious.

I chewed my hoodie string, my stomach knotting.

I hadn't meant to read his mind. Really.

When he'd led me up here, my mental barriers had been up and as secure as ever. But then, his thoughts had just started slipping through.

Not everything. It wasn't like I'd been prying. Only his surface thoughts had snuck in, the ones at the very front of his mind—the almost-spoken remarks, that thing about his sister being a vampire, how she'd been getting him out of trouble at school.

I shifted, discomfited, in my seat. _That_ was probably why he had the baseball bats everywhere.

Clearly, his sister was still around and still a part of his life...

I'd only known about for-real vampires for a year, but I'd never heard of one maintaining a relationship with their living family members.

I wondered if it was more common than I realized. It wasn't like the hunters had a vampire library, at least, not one they'd invited me to browse through. It would've been helpful.

"So, you don't mind, do you?" Gia asked.

"Huh?" I asked, coming out of my reverie.

"About Nico," she said. "I mean, he's sort of out of your league anyway."

A swallowed back the bile I wanted to spew at her.

What was the point?

Nico wasn't interested in me and it wasn't like we'd be here very long anyway.

Just because he liked the same pizza (mostly) and his thoughts had practically jumped into my head didn't mean anything special.

In a few months, he'd forget he'd ever met me. But I was sure he'd remember Gia, probably for the rest of his life. She had a way of burning herself into people's minds, like a brand.

"Go for it," I muttered, turning my attention back to John Olsen.

He didn't seem the typical vampire victim and yet... I clicked back to the other article. The guy's name was Colin Jacoby.

He'd disappeared a couple months before Olsen. I did a quick map search. The two had lived five hundred miles apart. Even if they had been taken by a vampire, it couldn't have been the same one.

Territories were rarely that broad unless they were sparsely populated. Or unless the vamp was a drifter.

But vamp drifters weren't common. Still, there could have been one floating around. One whose soul had already gone so dark, he was feeding off whoever he could get his hands on. Chase had told me vampires could get like that when they went too dark, sort of... feral.

Gia sniffed. "I wish he'd wear some cologne. He clearly can afford it. Not that cheap stuff everybody wears, something nice, Armani."

"I like the way he smells," I said without thinking and immediately cringed.

She let out a breathy chuckle. "Tell you what. If I get bored with him before we leave, I'll lock the two of you in a closet together. It'll be like in junior high, seven minutes of heaven. Did you ever do that? You'd be amazed what can happen between two people trapped together in a close, dark place."

A few choice swear words were swelling in my throat when she added, "What about that Josh kid? I bet you could get him interested."

"What? You don't plan to toss a ring around his neck too?" I asked tartly.

"I'm just trying to help you out of your shell, Molly," she said. "If you really want me to stay away from Nico, I will."

I was tempted. Really tempted.

For a few minutes, when Nico and I had been arguing about the pizza thing, I'd felt almost normal. Like I'd used to be. Like I wasn't on the run and my mom wasn't dead and my life hadn't been totally turned upside down. And then, when he'd been leaving... but no, there was no way that could've happened.

Anyway, it didn't matter. I wasn't about to get all dopey over some guy who was hot for my sister. I absolutely refused to be that pathetic.

"Do whatever you want," I said, eyes on the screen, though I wasn't reading the words anymore.

"Great," she said. "I'm going to use the treadmill. I mean, the bitch queen can't call running a few miles training, can she?"

"Do you really care what she thinks? We both know you'll find a way to train regardless."

"Of course I will," she said. "You know, we're not going to have to depend on these people forever. It's not like I need them to hunt vampires with. As soon as we get out of the country, we'll make our own way. Where do you think they'll send us? Europe? I'd love to live in Spain."

"How will we make money?" I asked.

"I'll figure something out," she said. "I always do, don't I?"

I scrolled down to a picture of John Olsen. He was pudgy with a thick crop of grayish hair, puffy lips, and hard eyes. Who would want to suck on that guy's soul? Even in the photo—driver's license probably—something about him looked polluted.

"You always do," I repeated, trying to tune her out again. Ignoring Gia was the only way I could continue to survive her.

"We'll get out of here and start our own organization. You can find them for me, and I'll hunt them down."

"Sounds good."

"Sounds great," she said and then her footfalls thumped away.

Except it didn't. I didn't want to hunt vampires. I didn't want to be obsessed the way she was, bloodthirsty. I wanted out. Not just from the hunters, but from all of it. Vampires, hunters, and most especially, Gia.

What I didn't tell her, what I'd never tell her, was that the first chance I got, I was going to cut out—on her.

I didn't want to just survive anymore. I wanted to live.
6: The Boyfriend's Back

Nico

**K** itten Eyes was looking pretty smug, even though I hadn't said a single word.

"I don't know how you can eat that," Gia said from where she sat next to me on the couch, lip curling at the pizza in my hand. "You don't have to do it just to be nice."

I was taking my time chewing, like I was giving it real consideration, like I wasn't sure. In fact, I was sure. She was right. Pepperoni made it. I felt like an idiot for never trying it before—so obvious. But I wasn't about to admit that to her. Even still, she had this tiny little smile on her face, like she knew she'd won.

"He's not doing it to be nice." Josh snagged his third slice while the rest of us were still working on our first. "He eats that every damned time."

"Minus the pepperoni," Molly offered, finally sliding her glittering dark gaze over to me. "So?"

I swallowed and took my time wiping my mouth with my napkin. "It's... okay."

"It's disgusting," Gia said. "You don't actually eat that, do you? Who in their right mind would ever think to put pineapple with jalapeno on a pizza?"

"Are you saying your sister isn't in her right mind?" Josh asked, flopping back in the leather recliner, downing half a bottle of Gatorade in one swallow.

"I'm saying my sister has her own special brand of weirdness, which I love," she clarified, "but that I'm certain no one else in the world could possibly share."

"I feel the same way about Josh," I said, grabbing my own bottle and chugging it.

Molly shifted back in the recliner that faced Josh's across the coffee table, still with that self-satisfied smile on her lips.

Gia picked up the remote and flipped through the channels in a listless way, leaving her half-eaten slice on her plate.

"I almost went insane stuck inside all day," she said. "We were at a campground before. At least I could get some fresh air, walk around."

"There's a treadmill upstairs," I said to her and then finished off my slice in a few bites. It really was better. Way better. Damn it.

"Oh, am I allowed to use that?" she asked. "Isn't that where you train?"

I shrugged. "Why not?"

"I just wanted to check," Gia said, blasting that smile at me again.

" _Not like you didn't use it already_ ," Molly murmured.

I tore my gaze away from Gia. "What?"

Kitten blinked at me, eyes all wide and anxious again. "I didn't say anything."

I frowned. "Yeah, you did. You said—"

"No, I didn't," she cut in more strongly.

"I didn't hear her say anything." Josh plunked his empty bottle down.

"Molly hardly ever talks," Gia said, disinterested.

I frowned at Molly. She frowned right back, daring me to say something. But I _had_ heard her. I was sitting closer to her than Gia and Josh. They just hadn't heard her over the reality show contestants screeching at each other on the TV. What I didn't get was why she was denying it.

Next to me, Gia slumped dramatically, allowing her knee to fall over onto my thigh. "I'll bet there are some great places to hang out in this town, right? Good music? I'd love to see a live show again."

The weight of her leg on my mine drew all my attention, even though I was playing it off like I didn't notice. It seemed like I couldn't notice anything else. "Yeah, I don't know."

"Nico is a man on a mission," Josh said. "He doesn't mess around." Josh's eyebrow peaked at me. Now, he was smirking too. I scowled at him.

"What do you do for fun?" Gia asked.

"Fun?" Josh snorted.

"I skate," I said.

"Yeah, but you don't have fun doing it," Josh said.

"I have fun," I said.

"Since when?" Josh challenged.

"Why are you staying here?" Gia asked Josh. "Why don't you stay with your mom?"

Josh smiled wolfishly at her. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"Oh, I see," Gia said with a roll of her eyes. "You're the backup, huh? In case I decide to... what? Look out the window? You're going to stop me?"

Josh shook his head. "Are you sure you're not the weird sister?"

She sprang up. "Oh, look at me," she said, eyes over-wide as she sidled toward the curtains covering the front window. "I'm going to look outside... Stop me, Josh, quick."

He took another slice of pizza and gave me a questioning look like he was asking me what I really thought of this chick. Funny, since he'd been the one having obvious porno thoughts about her just last night. And so what if she was a bit... energetic?

She snagged the edge of the curtain and pushed it aside, peering out into the dimly lit street. She drew back, covering her mouth with her fingers.

"I did it, Josh," she said. "I looked out the window. Are you going to report me to your mommy now?"

"Nobody ever said you can't look out the window," he replied, not even glancing back at her. He folded his slice over and shoveled it in.

She trailed her fingers over the back of the couch. "Oh... well... then what will you do if I go outside?"

He shot her a dark look. Usually, he was pretty laid back, but he could get serious in a hurry, especially when it came to matters vampire-related.

He growled something through his mouthful of pizza.

"It's so stuffy in here," she said from behind me. "I might just step out onto the porch, you know, for a breath of air."

"Gia..." Molly said, reminding me that she was huddled in the chair.

"Oh, are you going to stop me, Molly?" she asked. "What's the big deal? I'm just going to step outside for a second." She circled behind the couch, moving toward the kitchen. "What? Do you think the cops are just out there waiting to pounce—?"

"Someone might see you," Molly said.

"So what? They might've seen me last night when we got here," she said. "You think the neighbors spend all their time studying wanted posters?" She rolled her eyes. "Is there even such a thing as a wanted poster anymore? It's not like this is the Old West or something."

"We get the point," Molly said. "It's not a big deal. So, why do it?"

"Apparently, your sister is the smart one too," Josh said.

I grabbed a pillow and flung it at him.

"You and your mom," Gia said acidly, "all of you, think you know everything, think you're so in control, but you're not. You waste so much time tiptoeing around, trying to protect yourselves. No wonder there are so many damned vampires. Eventually, you have to stop sneaking around and do something."

She spun and rushed through the kitchen.

Molly leapt up. "Gia!"

"Nice," I said to Josh.

"She's clearly loco, man," he said.

"Just because she's sick of hiding and running and not doing anything?" I challenged.

Before he could respond, I charged after Molly and Gia. I paused at the door to punch in the alarm code before it started blaring and alerted Tammy and the private security firm who monitored it.

Molly hovered just outside of the door. Gia spun in circles in the weedy square of the yard. The low clouds glowed orange over the city. A cool breeze worked its way under my shirt.

"Look at me," she called. "I'm outside."

I moved Molly aside so I could step onto the porch.

"You made your point," I said.

"Yeah, you're a total nut-job, way to go," Josh muttered as he edged by me.

I shot him a glare, but Gia had already stopped spinning, smiling that ten-gigawatt smile.

"I told you," she said, chafing her arms as a gust whipped past, tangling her hair over her face. "You and your people are way too paranoid. We don't need to be kept under lock and key 24-7. Tell your mom, there's no one out here—"

A hand clamped around Gia's throat, jerking her back.

I tensed, pulse revving into high gear. Josh swore under his breath. Molly went preternaturally still.

Two gray eyes appeared next to Gia's, so pale they almost had no color at all. A smile spread, fangs and all.

Brennin winked at me.

"I wouldn't say no one."
7: Ghosts

Nico

**I** reached out and caught Molly's arm. "Go back inside."

"Who's your new friend?" Brennin asked, sticking his nose into Gia's hair. Her neck was canted back sharply. He held her wrist with his other hand, keeping her arm locked straight.

Josh reached back and slid his hunting knife from its sheath—hidden under his baggy shirt. "Should've ordered more garlic on that za," he muttered to me as he edged along the porch rail, toward the steps.

Garlic didn't repel vampires, like in the movies, but it did interfere with their pheromones—powerful scents that could make a human more malleable, docile even.

"Don't worry, Joshy," Brennin said. "I'm not here to hurt you. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd check in. Old friends and all."

"We were never friends, man," Josh said, moving into the yard. "Not even before your soul got siphoned."

Brennin's elongated canines gleamed in the light coming through the doorway behind Molly. She hadn't moved, but I didn't have time to argue with her. Besides, she was so motionless, Brennin hadn't seemed to notice her.

I reached back and snagged the baseball bat propped inside the door.

"Speaking of souls," Brennin's washed-out vampire eyes fixed on me as I moved down the porch steps. "You're looking a bit dingy these days, Nicolas. Not so fluffy and white anymore, huh? Need a trip to the cleaners, maybe? I know someone who could help you with that. Maybe you want to pay her a visit."

My heart was banging painfully against my ribs. "Is that why you came? Did _she_ send you?"

At that moment, Gia ripped away and spun, punching Brennin in the face.

He stood there, smiling at her, barely wavering when her fist hit his jaw. And then he backhanded her, spinning her and knocking her flat onto her stomach.

Josh and I flinched, but neither of us moved any closer.

Brennin's smile widened. "This is fun."

"What do you want?" I asked.

Josh had circled behind Brennin but was keeping his distance. We wouldn't fight him unless we had to. Because if we tried, in all likelihood, we'd lose.

Gia huffed and pushed herself off the ground.

"Go inside," I said to her through my teeth.

She backed away from Brennin. "What are you waiting for?" she asked me. "Kill him."

"Oo," Brennin said, "she's feisty. Where'd you find her? I'm sure your sister will be interested to hear you've finally found yourself a girlfriend. A spark-plug."

"I'll do it." Gia tore the baseball bat from my hand and rushed at Brennin.

In a blur, he shoved Gia to the ground again, leaving her nose bloodied. And then my bat was in his hands.

Brennin tsked. "Not too bright, though." He held the bat out to me. "And her soul's grubbier than yours."

I took the bat from him, slowly.

Josh crept closer to Gia. She pushed up onto her elbows, but her eyes were unfocused.

Brennin's gaze slid off of me, moving toward the house. "Now that's interesting."

Before I could blink, he'd vanished.

A sharp intake of breath behind me made my chest seize.

I turned.

Silhouetted by the light pouring through the open doorway, Brennin held Molly by the arms. Her shoulders were bunched up. Her hair fell back from her face as he drew her closer to him like he was about to kiss her. Her eyes were huge and trembling again. I could even see her lip quivering.

My grip tightened around the bat. I took two measured breaths and blew one out—steady, don't panic—as I approached.

Brennin's gaze roved over her face. "What's it mean?" he asked.

She just stared up at him, eyes impossibly big and dark.

"So pretty," he said. "So... colorful."

I'd reached the bottom of the porch steps. My body was coiled tight, humming as if electrified.

If he moved, even another inch, I'd swing. I was pretty sure I could get in a decent shot. He was transfixed by Molly. The gleam in his eyes, the hunger, was like a match, igniting a smoky black inferno inside of me as if I'd been swilling gasoline instead of Gatorade.

Sweat trickled down my temple as I settled my foot onto the bottom step.

Brennin's head cocked. I raised the bat.

But he didn't move to bite her. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared.

"What?" he breathed.

Her lips pursed. She didn't speak.

He blinked rapidly, cringing. The color flooded back into his eyes. His fangs retracted. Suddenly, he shoved her away.

I darted up, grabbing her before she tripped over the junk on the porch and cracked her head on the wrought iron table.

Brennin staggered down the steps. No longer vamped out. He stared Molly down as he backpedaled.

I steadied her and was going to ask if she was okay, but her attention was on Brennin, unwavering, even as she caught the front of my T-shirt, twisting it up.

Gia lurched to her feet when Brennin drew closer. Josh grabbed her from behind as she lunged.

"Stay away from my sister!" she screamed, jerking against Josh's hold, blood smearing her lips—red on red.

"Shut up," Josh growled at her, dropping his knife to wrap both arms around her.

"Touch her again and I'll kill you! I swear!" Gia went on, bucking against Josh.

Brennin glanced at her, but his gaze snapped back to Molly again. Against my side, Molly's body twitched, tensing a degree more.

Brennin winced as if he'd been stung. And then, he swiveled and disappeared.

Gia lost her footing as she struggled against Josh and dropped to the ground again.

Josh shot me an exasperated, but relieved, look.

Against me, Molly slackened. Her fingers loosened their hold on my shirt. It was only then that I realized I was holding her so tightly I could feel her heart banging through her chest into mine.

My own heart, still racing, skipped a few beats and its tempo altered—no less quick, but not so panicked. I was suddenly very aware of her—silken hair brushing my cheek, soapy clean and a little sweet smelling. The bones of her shoulder under my hand, hard and, yet, delicate. The soft swells of her breasts crushed against my ribs, rising and falling with her breath.

She pulled back from me, groaning, hand on her head.

"What the hell just happened?" Josh asked, standing over Gia, who sat on the ground, swearing and muttering threats even though Brennin was gone.

"Are you okay?" I asked Molly.

She dug her fingers into her temples, grimacing.

"Molly?"

Waving me away, she backed up further, putting more space between us. I could still feel the warm ghost of her body and it sent an urgent shudder through me that bordered on pain. I balled my hand at my side, resisting the temptation to pull her to me again. And that's when I realized I'd been really fooling myself. I couldn't ignore girls completely, liability or not. My body was on the verge of revolt just because I'd touched a girl for a few minutes. That couldn't have been healthy.

Then she turned and rushed back into the house.

Josh clomped up the steps, squinting after her.

"What?" I asked.

He scanned the place where Molly had been as if he could see her ghost the same way I could feel it.

"Dunno," he said. "I'll go check on her."

"I'll do it," I said.

"Nah, that's your mess," Josh said, gesturing back to Gia. He leaned in. "And I want to get a closer look at little Miss Molly."

I pushed through the hormone haze attempting to cut off all blood flow to my brain. "You mean her soul?"

"It seemed to interest Brennin, didn't it?"

"You think she's got a white soul? You didn't notice before?"

"Nah, it's not white," he said. "I _would_ have noticed that. They're kind of in your face. But I haven't gotten a glimpse of Molly's soul."

"Were you looking?"

"Not really," he said. "I didn't know I needed to, but now I'm thinking I'd better check it out. Maybe it'll help explain why Molly's family became a target in the first place."

"But if her soul's not white—"

"I'm going to take a gander anyway—"

Deprived of what it wanted, my body started to tense up again. My mood grew darker—annoyed at the urges I was having and couldn't seem to stop. "I'm more interested to know why Brennin's suddenly showed up again."

Josh clapped me on the shoulder. "All in good time, my friend." He headed inside.

I turned just as Gia crashed into me.

"I'm so stupid," she said, holding on to me like she was sobbing, except she wasn't. "I didn't really think. They just make me so—Who was that guy?"

She drew back enough to look up at me, but she was still pressing herself flat against me.

"You're bleeding," I said.

Blood streamed out of her nose, smearing her mouth and chin. Luckily, it didn't look broken.

"He threatened Molly," she said. "You have to train me. I have to protect her. I can't let anything happen to her." A shimmer appeared over her eyes. "She's all I've got left."

My heart panged at her words. Words I'd said to myself once. The strain and the energy drained out of me.

"Okay," I said.

"Really?"

I nodded, disengaging her from me and stepping back. Blood stained my shirt. "Come on."

"But we're not safe here. We have to leave—"

"There's an alarm," I said. "It's wired to the windows. Besides, he won't come in here."

"But he—"

"Trust me," I said, leading her back into the house.

"How can you be sure?" she asked dubiously.

Because this is my sister's house, I wanted to say, but I didn't. In truth, I wasn't sure if that was enough to keep Brennin from coming back.

Not if there was someone inside he wanted badly enough.
8: Soul Damage

Molly

**P** ain cleaved my skull like an axe had been planted right down the middle.

Josh brought me some ibuprofen and a glass of water.

After taking the pills, I eased back against the guest bed's pillow, biting my teeth against the pain. I shut my eyes. Slowly, the agony began to subside.

I cracked open my eyes. Josh was still there, standing over me.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"That was weird, huh?" he said.

In the gloom of the room, his eyes were shadowed, but I could feel him, watching me.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe you get vampires stopping by a lot. You didn't seem too surprised to see him. He knew you."

Josh blew out a breath. "Yeah. Brennin. He was at our school... before. But he hasn't been around lately."

The splintering pain spread out and dulled to a throb, but I wasn't much in the mood for conversation. For some reason though, Josh kept talking.

"He seemed pretty interested in you."

I ground my teeth.

"You know why vampires feed, right?" he asked "About needing the blood to keep their souls in their bodies. About needing to keep their souls from getting too dark. You know it doesn't make a difference for a person, how light or dark their soul is. It doesn't mean they're bad or good. But a vamp has to be careful. They can't let their soul get too dark. A dark vamp soul... that's not good for anyone. Most people are gray anyway—"

"I know," I said finally, covering my face with my arm, hoping he'd take the hint.

He didn't.

"Did you know that there aren't very many people with completely dark or light souls? I've only seen one soul that looked totally black. And one that was completely white..."

My arm slid away from my face. I frowned at him. "You can see souls?"

"Yup." He retreated to the opposite wall, leaning against it. "It's part of my charm."

I propped up on my elbows. "What do souls look like?"

"Uh... you know how when it's raining really hard at night and you look at car's headlights and there's this kind of misty halo around them? It looks like that. I mean, if I really focus on it. Most of the time, I don't notice unless I try."

"So, it's not only vampires who can see them," I said.

"Are you asking if I'm a vampire?"

"Is that what I said?" I shot back. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Well, here's the thing," he said, pushing off the wall. "Brennin seemed really into you."

I cringed. "So?"

"So, I've been trying to see your soul." He came closer. The light from the hall cut across his face. And it was startling, how serious his expression appeared. Much more grown up than I'd seen from him before.

"And I'm having some trouble," he said.

My stomach twisted, queasy. "What? Like you think I don't have a soul?"

"Nah, everybody's got a soul. Otherwise, you're dead. That's why vamps are trying so hard to hold on to theirs." His head tilted, his gaze probing. "But there's something weird about yours."

I made a face at him. "Thanks a lot."

He shrugged. "Don't get all sensitive. I'm just trying to figure it out."

"Maybe I don't want you peeping at my soul," I growled.

He ran his hand over his face and then glanced at the door. "You know, Nico had a soul that was different too, once."

My annoyance abated. "He did?"

"Totally white," he said. "Blinding. That's why."

"Why what?"

"Why he became a target. Why his sister got vamped. And his parents killed. He was like vampire caviar. A soul that white is going to attract attention eventually."

My mouth hung open long enough for my tongue to dry out. Nico's soul was the reason his family had been killed? That his sister was a vampire? My heart twisted, aching for him.

"Is that why Brennin was here?" I asked finally.

He shook his head. "Didn't you hear? Nico's soul isn't any whiter than anybody else's, now."

"What happened?"

"It wasn't him. It was his sister. She was making his soul white. She's a soul bleacher."

"How is that possible?"

He shrugged. "Got me. The world's full of crazy shit. Nobody's sure what makes a soul lighter or darker, but we do know that Ennis will definitely make it whiter. How's your head?"

The pain of forcing myself into Brennin's mind was little more than a nuisance, a vague ache. I hadn't been sure when I'd tried it, that I'd be able to pull it off. I'd only done it once before. With Samuel. Afterward, I'd blacked out, but that could've been the blood loss too.

"Better," I muttered.

"You get headaches a lot?"

"No," I said.

"Yeah, Nico was pretty messed up about his family, lots of guilt." His sudden redirect sent another pain bounding through my head. "Blamed himself. Probably still does, you know?"

Yes. I knew.

"This is his sister's house. She pays the bills. It's her territory."

I was gaping again. "Then what was Brennin doing here?"

"Brennin's an interesting case. He was part of the Ministry... you know about them?"

I nodded. "Yeah, they think vampires can be cured. Or that they can live harmoniously with humans."

"I think they're just too lazy to go out and stalk their prey," he said with a wry grin, but it faded quickly. "They used to recruit pretty heavily around here. They siphoned off a bit too much from Brennin. Boy's got some soul damage. You know what I mean?"

His eyes moved down and I tugged my hoodie up over the scars on my neck.

"I don't have soul damage," I said. "I was bitten, but—"

"Oh, I know. It takes time to wound a soul like Brennin's. Lots of feedings, which is easy if you're a volunteer like Brennin was. Sounds like you and your sister got jumped, caught off guard. Pretty lucky you survived."

I struggled to swallow, my throat was too tight.

"Yeah," I managed. "Lucky."

"It was your stepdad, right? He attacked you. He got turned by your sister's boyfriend. That's funny—"

I scowled. "What's funny about it?"

He brushed aside my brutal tone. "Nah, I mean, it's just a coincidence. Nico's sister, she got turned by her boyfriend too. They like to play with emotions like that, you know? It's easy. They're built for it. To seduce people. You can't really blame a regular person. How are they supposed to know that what they're feeling isn't real? That it's some vamp pheromone trick? Same thing happened to Nico. A vampire used his sister to get closer to him."

My hands fisted in my sleeves, my nails biting into my palms.

"Your stepdad, when he turned, he didn't feed off your mom, right? He just killed her. That's what happened to Nico's parents too. The vamp didn't want their souls. Wasn't interested. He killed them to get them out of the way."

Cold sweat beaded on my chest. My breaths grew short and labored as the memory returned.

From the depths of my mind, Gia's shriek, "Get off of her!"

Dave had lurched. And the woozy dream-like state I'd been trapped in broke and I'd woken up in a nightmare, light-headed, bleeding, limp on the floor.

Blood was flying, splattering the fake wood floors Mom had just installed. Gia was stabbing Dave over and over.

And then Samuel appeared. His eyes, that were supposed to be blue, were so pale they were like diamonds. "She was mine!" he spat.

He grabbed Gia and flung her aside with one hand like she was a doll. She slammed into the fridge and crumpled next to me. I reached for her, but I was too weak to pick myself up off the floor.

Samuel seized Dave, who was covered in blood. It gurgled between his lips, running down his face.

"I said you could have the others. Not her," Samuel said.

And then he picked up the knife that Gia had dropped and plunged it deep into Dave's chest. And Dave arched, gagging. Samuel let him fall to the floor again.

Samuel stepped over Gia, who was groaning and crouched next to my feet. I tried to sit up, but my hands kept sliding out from under me. Because of the blood.

He smiled. He had fangs. And my first thought was, _they're not real_.

"I should've known better than to send him in here first," he said to me. "Who could resist a gem like you?"

Gia pushed her head up from the floor, though she still seemed out of it.

"I was hoping not to have to kill your sister. I kind of liked her. That's why I sent Dave in. Newbies don't care. They'll kill anything if you don't teach them better... anyway," he sighed. "Looks like I'll have to do it myself."

He grabbed Gia's hair and that's when I did it.

I couldn't scream, my throat was so dry, I wasn't sure my tongue would move. But in my mind, I screamed.

" _Get out!_ " I roared into his head.

He released Gia and scrambled back, eyes wide.

"What the—?"

I tore through my carefully constructed walls. In truth, they were pretty flimsy due to all the blood loss and trauma. I didn't care about protecting myself or safeguarding anyone's privacy, all I cared about was protecting Gia.

And so, I let my mind chase after him, like a rabid wolf, snarling and snapping, tearing, biting.

" _Get out! Get out! Get out!_ "

He cried out, clutching at his head, and ran.

I remember hearing the screen door slam shut and then... I blacked out. Sometime later, Gia roused me, sobbing, begging me to get up, telling me we had to go. And our new neighbor, Mr. Yee, he was there too, hustling us out of the door in the middle of the night, apologizing.

"I should have warned you," he said.

Later, he explained he'd been following Samuel. But he'd been sure Samuel wasn't going to strike yet. It wasn't typical for him to move in so quickly. Usually, he waited a year at least. He'd only been dating Gia for six months, which was a long time for her.

"I don't know why," Mr. Yee had told us. "But we'll make sure you're safe now."

Twenty-two moves later, I was sitting in a guest bed on the second floor of a vampire's house, with a kid who could see people's souls.

"What does it look like?" I asked him, my voice a weak rasp.

He edged closer, standing over me, narrowing his eyes, searching my upturned face, just like the vampire had earlier.

The corner of his eye twitched and he blinked, refocusing.

"It's strange," he said as if thinking aloud. "It's like I can't see anything, but then, sometimes..."

He rubbed his eyes roughly.

"Sometimes what?" I asked.

He looked down at me again, moving closer so I could smell his pizza breath.

Footsteps in the hall caused him to jerk back as if he didn't want to be caught leaning over me, checking out my soul. Maybe he didn't. Maybe like me, he didn't want other people to know what he could do. But then, he hadn't seemed to have any hesitation telling me about it.

Gia appeared in the doorway. She smiled weakly. Her hair was pulled back, her face shining from being washed. One cheek was red and swelling.

"You're okay." And then she was strangling me in a hug.

"Yeah," I muttered, watching Josh shuffle out to meet Nico at the door.

They murmured to each other and then Josh ducked away into the hall. Nico glanced back and I caught his gaze over Gia's shoulder. I had the sudden urge to tell them that we shared more than a love of the same pizza. That I understood... the loss, the guilt. But then he turned away, following Josh.

I patted Gia's back. "I'm okay."
9: Not-Quite Gone

Nico

**"W** hat the hell do you mean?" I asked.

"Colors, man." Josh checked over his shoulder again, but we hadn't heard anyone coming down the stairs. Still, he spoke in a hush, drawing me further back into the kitchen. "The girl's soul is in color."

I leaned heavily against the counter. "I don't know what that means."

"Neither do I," he said, drumming his fingers against his leg, eyes darting around as if looking for something. "I almost couldn't see it. I mean, I knew she had one. Everybody's got one, but... I couldn't see hers. And then... it was like a flicker... like, uh... a hummingbird, you know? Real quick and bright. I wasn't sure I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing."

I stretched my neck, but it remained tight. My head was starting to hurt. "What did you see, exactly?"

"You heard Brennin, right?" he said, pushing in close to me suddenly. "He said, 'So pretty. So colorful.' He was talking about her soul, man." He paced away, and then spun back again, phone in hand. "I've got to call Moms."

"So, wait," I said, stopping him. "What's the big deal?"

His arms fell to his side, his eyes widening. "The big deal? Nobody's soul is in color. They're all gray. Every damned one. Except hers." He thrust his finger at the ceiling, toward Molly upstairs.

"You've never seen color, at all?" I asked. "You've never heard of it?"

"It's not like there's a soul-seer's handbook," he said.

"Are you sure you saw—?"

"No, I'm not sure." He ran his hand over his brow. "But that explains it," he said. "You should've seen how she reacted when I told her about you."

My brow fell. "Told her what about me?"

He drew back, his enthusiasm retreating. "Nothing."

I pushed away from the counter, crowding him into the corner. "What did you tell her?"

He held up his hands. "Nothing, relax. I mean, I just wanted to see..."

Heat boiled up from the pit of my stomach. "See what?"

"If it was the same." He slid past me and then rounded back. "Don't you see? You read the report. Nobody was sure why they were attacked. But this might be it. Her soul. The vamp wasn't after her sister. It was after her. Just like—"

My jaw was clenched so tight it felt like my teeth might crack. "Just like me."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"You told her? About me? About my family?"

Josh hardened, his eyes darkening. "Don't you get it? That girl might be a vamp magnet, just like you were. And just like you, she hasn't said shit about what happened when she was attacked, when her family was murdered, right in front of her. Repressing may be how you deal, but it's not helping anyone else."

I slammed my fist against the cabinet. "I'm not a fucking therapist, Josh. I don't give a shit about helping anyone else. And if I don't want to talk about it, that's my choice." I stormed past him.

"Man, we have to talk about—"

"You've done enough talking tonight," I spat over my shoulder as I pounded up the steps.

I beat the heavy bag until my knuckles were bruised and begging for me to stop. Then I started kicking it.

At some point, I heard Gia calling my name through the door, but it was locked and I ignored her.

When my muscles had gone from burning to limp, and my pulse throbbed painfully through my sweat-soaked body, I dropped onto the weight bench and forced myself to drink Gatorade before I passed out from dehydration.

I found myself gazing out the dormer window into the orange-tinted pitch, wondering if Brennin was outside, watching the house. Or if he'd gone back to Ennis and told her what had happened. Maybe he wasn't even in contact with her anymore. I doubted she'd be too happy to hear that he'd just dropped by. At least, I hoped she wouldn't be happy.

I spun the cap back and forth on the bottle.

I hadn't seen Ennis in two years. I missed her, a lot.

I tried to tell myself she was dead, but it was hard, especially when money showed up in my account every month and my teachers miraculously forgot about my shitty attitude. She wasn't just still out there. She was still watching out for me. Still taking care of me. I wasn't sure what hurt more. Her being gone or her being not-quite gone.

I'd never really been able to grieve for my parents, partly because I didn't really remember them. Sure, I missed them and it sucked. But Ennis was the one whose absence gnawed at me. A part of me felt like I wanted to grieve for her loss. But how could I? She was still around, like a shadowy guardian angel.

And another part of me, a bigger part, still wanted my sister back. Even though I knew it was impossible.

I'd tried to bring her back once before. Instead, I'd created a vampire. A monster. A murderer. And I'd trapped my sister's soul inside of it.

There were days I hated myself so much I gave serious consideration to finding the nearest bridge. Lucky for me, those days didn't come often. But I wasn't so repressed that I couldn't face up to the fact that I had issues. Generally, I thought I did pretty well. But I didn't appreciate Josh using my life as a pamphlet story for his cause: _See! Your life isn't the only one that's been screwed by vampires. Join us!_

Cracking open the attic door, I waited, listening. The house was quiet. I didn't know what time it was, I'd left my phone in my room, but most of the windows across the street were dark, so it must've been late.

I padded down the steps, slowing as I approached Ennis's bedroom door. Shut tight. I beelined for the bathroom and took a quick shower, which helped slough away the last of my darker thoughts. For the night, anyway.

Wrapping my towel around my waist, I crept into the hall again, hesitating when I saw that Molly's door was cracked open. Weird. She didn't strike me as someone who would sleep with her door open.

Vaguely, I wondered if Josh was right. If the vamp that had killed her family had been after her.

Brennin was half-crazy, so I wasn't putting much stock in anything he said, but Josh had been wound up by whatever he'd seen, or thought he'd seen, of her soul. And that wasn't like him. If aliens had landed and had started turning all the world leaders into walking Easter Peeps, he probably would've asked if eating them would still be considered cannibalism. The kid thought about nothing besides food, skating, and vampires. Mostly food.

I edged closer to Molly's door.

Two dimmed hall sconces buzzed softly, one right behind my shoulder.

Molly was on her side, facing me, curled up. Her brow was furrowed. Her eyelids, the heavy fringe of her lashes, fluttered as she dreamed. I wondered if she had dreams like I did. About blood. About loss. About being powerless.

She rolled over, groaning softly. Her neck turned, her hair spilling over the pillowcase. The puncture scars seemed to shine against her throat. And I remembered how delicate she had felt under my hand and I grew hot and tense again, thinking about a vampire biting her, hurting her, almost killing her.

Her arm went up over her head, restlessly. She was sleeping in an oversized T-shirt. The Sharpie art went all the way up to her bicep, under the sleeve, black and bold on her slender, pale arm.

Was Josh right? If she'd been the target, then why? What did it mean that her soul was in color?

Without meaning to, my eyes traced the curves of her lips, her cheeks, her throat, her breast. A fresh heat flooded through me. I had a so-very-wrong image of dropping my towel and going into her room, into the bed, kissing the scars on her throat, sliding my hands under her shirt, finding out for myself where the ink stopped, if she tasted as sweet as she smelled, what kitten eyes would look like up close, really close. If she would purr...

The door opened and I flinched, almost losing my towel.

Gia jumped too.

I clutched at the wall and at my towel, steadying myself.

She blew out a breath, hand over her heart.

"You scared me," she whispered with a smile.

She glanced back at Molly, who had rolled over again, her back to us. Gia eased the door shut, giving me enough time to rearrange my towel and move into the shadow at the back of the hall, where I hoped the nature of my recent thoughts would be less obvious.

But of course, Gia moved closer, eyes roving over me in a way that was not helping me cool off.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

_Just imagining your sister naked_ ...

"I—uh, just took a shower," I said, pressing against my bedroom door. "What are you doing?"

The burning light in her eyes dampened. "Just checking on Molly. She has nightmares sometimes. I heard her talking in her sleep. I wanted to see if she was all right."

My shoulders eased down some. "Oh. How's your nose?"

She touched it with her fingertips. Her cheek was turning bruised shades of black and violet.

"It's okay," she said. "You must think I'm stupid for attacking that guy."

_Yeah, sort of._

"Nah. I get it," I said.

She smiled, but it wasn't the full-on high beam. I put my hand on the doorknob.

"You should get some sleep," I said.

"I don't sleep very well," she said. "I was thinking about going downstairs and having some cold pizza. Want to join me?"

My gaze flicked back over to Molly's door, but it was closed now.

"Sure," I said. "Let me get dressed."

"You don't have to," she said with a wink and a small laugh. Before the burn had reached my face, she turned. "I'll see you downstairs."
10: Ninja Thoughts

Molly

**I** peeked into the living room. The TV was still on, pizza boxes open on the coffee table. And Gia was snuggled up against Nico's side on the couch, the two of them looking extremely cozy.

I had to hand it to Gia. She worked fast.

The back door clicked and I spun.

Tammy came in, slid a box of donuts onto the counter, and punched the security code into the keypad by the door, disarming it.

"Molly," she said with a smile. She held up a cardboard coffee carrier. "Latte?"

"That would be great," I said.

"Everyone still asleep?" she asked, hanging her purse on a coat hook behind the door.

"Yeah," I said softly. "Nico and Gia are in the living room."

Her brow arched, but she didn't say whatever she was thinking and I was plenty happy to let her keep her thoughts to herself.

I shifted the donut box closer and opened it, releasing warm heavenly aromas of sugar and trans-fat into the room.

"Josh told me about what happened last night," she said, holding out a coffee to me.

I took it but set it aside again. Even with the cardboard sleeve, it was hot.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Do we have to leave again?" I asked, plucking an apple fritter from the assortment.

She sighed, popping the lid off her own coffee, blowing on it. "Do you want to leave?"

"Isn't it dangerous for us to stay?"

She leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms over her slim body, coffee steam caressing her face, which was nothing less than beautiful—dramatic eyes, tiny nose, a wide mouth, perfectly understated makeup.

"Josh also told me about what Brennin said."

With effort, I swallowed down the bite of donut that was trying to lodge itself in my throat. "About my soul?"

She nodded, gazing at me across the rim of her coffee cup.

"Can you see it too?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"But you think he's right?"

She sipped her coffee and then set it down. "I can't see what he can see, so I have to trust him."

I scraped my teeth over my lower lip. "So, it is my fault. My soul. Whatever's wrong with it...That's why my mom..."

Tammy closed the space between us, gripping my arms, firmly. "No. It's the vampire's fault. You didn't do anything. Never blame yourself. There is nothing wrong with your soul. It's just as it's meant to be, I'm sure."

I almost told her then, about my power, about what I could do. I was certain the two were related somehow. But then Josh shuffled in.

"Moms." He raked the thatch of black hair away from his forehead so it stood straight up. "Donuts? Sweet." He swept around us, took the entire box, grabbed a coffee too, and then plopped down on the other side of the table, facing us.

I turned to him. "What color is it?"

He looked up at me, chocolate frosting dotting the side of his mouth. "Huh?"

"My soul," I asked. "What color?"

"Oh," he said and then licked the rest of the frosting from his fingers. He took a swig of coffee and then hissed. "Shit. I burned my tongue."

Tammy folded her arms. "I think Molly asked you a question."

"I don't know," he said. "Lots of colors. But it's like flashes. Or flutters. Like confetti or butterflies, birds, I don't know." He fixed his gaze on me. "It's weird."

"Thanks." I slumped and turned back to Tammy. "So why would a vampire care about that? I thought they wanted to keep their souls light. How is my freakish confetti soul going to help them do that?"

Tammy shook her head, opening her mouth, but Josh interrupted.

"Oh, look who's awake," he smirked, tipping his chair back on two legs. "How'd you sleep last night, Romeo?"

Nico came in, rubbing his face. "Go suck—" He glanced over, stopping when he saw Tammy and me. His hand fell to the back of the nearest chair and he focused on me, the sleepiness clearing from his eyes. "Molly, how... are you okay?"

I drew back slightly. "Fine..." I picked up my coffee and sipped it too quickly. I winced as my mouth was scalded too.

I devoted all my energy to keeping my walls up. Nico's thoughts had already slipped through before, somehow, and I really, really didn't want to pick up anything about whatever had happened between him and Gia.

Tammy held a cup of coffee out to Nico. He came over, took it, removed the lid, and opened the freezer, tossing in an ice cube. I ran my sore tongue over the tender roof of my mouth. Why hadn't I thought of that?

"Want one?" he asked me like he was the mind reader.

I shook my head, trying not to meet his eyes. I figured it would be easier not to glean anything from him if I didn't look directly at him. He shut the freezer, but stayed right there next to me, leaning against the fridge.

"So Brennin is back in town," Tammy said to him. "Can't say I'm happy about that, but at least we know he hasn't been dispatched."

"We're not that lucky," Josh chimed in, but I couldn't see him now that Nico was in the way. Not that I was trying. I kept my eyes on the wood floors—real wood, not like the cheap stuff my mom had put in just before...

My stomach knotted, queasy, and I slid the apple fritter back onto the counter, only to get caught in a Nico gaze-trap. Had he been waiting for me to turn so he could meet my eyes?

A faint buzz grew in my head.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, not even blinking long enough to allow me to look away.

"Yeah." A dull ache throbbed through my head as I strained against his thoughts, but they slipped through anyway.

_Fucking Brennin. I should've killed him when I killed Rafe._

I winced. Not at the thought, but at the searing pulse of anger that came with it. Thoughts were often tinged with emotion, but this wasn't a faint coloring, it was red-hot on top and pitch-black underneath and it made my palms sweat and my heart race.

I redoubled my efforts to keep him out, picturing a steel wall between us.

"Do you think Ennis will come after him?" Josh asked. "That's a pretty big breach of vamp etiquette."

"I don't think we should count on it," Tammy said. She cleared her throat, speaking softly. "And Brennin's unusual. He and Ennis were turned by the same vampire... sometimes that can create... . familial type relationship."

Even though I was managing to keep Nico out, I could still hear the black rage in his voice. "Brennin is _not_ her family."

Tammy went on as if he hadn't spoken. "And we can't know for sure that Ennis is maintaining her boundaries. We haven't had any reports that can be linked to her. The only reason we suspect she's in the city is that she attended Nico's parent-teacher conference meeting a few months ago."

"She's not going to bail on Nico," Josh said.

I dared a peek at Nico, but he appeared to be attempting to scorch the hardwood via pyrokinesis. At least I didn't have that freakish power. Although, I could imagine some situations where it might be useful.

Since his attention finally seemed to be elsewhere, I eased up a bit on my focus, enough to rejoin the conversation.

"This Brennin," I said, "he doesn't have his own territory?"

Tammy bobbled her head. "Not that we can be sure of. It's not unusual for there to be more than one vampire in a city as big as this."

"Yeah, we had a whole Ministry full of them," Josh added.

"But he hasn't been around," I said. "And Josh said he was... damaged. Like maybe a little crazy?"

"More than a little," Josh said.

"So... could he have been drifting around? Maybe killing some people who might not usually attract a vampire?"

Tammy cocked her head. "Maybe... why?"

"I was going through some reports yesterday and there were a couple of unsolved missing-person cases that came up. Not the usual types and they were pretty far apart, but... there were some similarities between them. I thought it might be a drifter. Maybe one who's gone so dark, it doesn't care about who it feeds off of."

"Brennin wasn't dark," Josh said. "He was looking on the paler side of gray."

My shoulders sagged. "Oh. Well, that could still happen, even if he was killing randoms, right? He could be lucking out."

"Sure." Tammy pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Which articles? Show me. Hold on." Her thumb scrolled over the screen.

As I waited, Nico's thoughts started to slip in again. They were like ninjas. Nothing I did seemed to hold them back.

_Ennis wouldn't....rennin is too dangerous, too much of a wildcard....hen she finds out, she'll come after him....aybe I should call her. Yeah, right. What is wrong with me? She's dead. She's a vampire. I wish I could just forget about her_ ...

"Shit," Tammy muttered, scowling. "Stupid phone."

_As soon as I graduate, I'll leave....o....omewhere, anywhere... Where will they send her? She should be training... Brennin could've killed her... Tammy won't move her yet, will she? She just got here... But it might be safer... They're safe here. Safe as anywhere....he can't leave... Christ, get your head out of your pants and use your brain for a minute. Brennin knows they're here....e could come back....hen I'll kill him....eah, right, hero. You're so damned deluded_. . .

My head started to pound as I struggled to keep Nico's internal argument out.

Tammy swore at her phone.

"I can show you, upstairs," I offered. Anything to get away from Nico and his ninja thoughts.

"Okay," Tammy said, taking her coffee.

I edged past Nico.

"I'll go up with you," he said, stopping me. "You'll need my password."

_Sk8 &SlA. _

"That's okay," I said quickly. "I... uh, saw you put it in yesterday. Sorry. You can change it..."

Before he could form any words or thoughts, I rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
11: Vampire Strong. You Not.

Nico

**M** olly gave me a look like I had the plague and then practically ran away.

And then it hit me, she'd probably seen Gia drooling on me this morning.

Great.

We hadn't done anything but eat pizza and pass out. Maybe I needed to tell Molly...

But what was I thinking? Gia was the one I was into, right? Except I wasn't supposed to be messing around with girls at all. I was supposed to be focused on killing vampires and nothing else.

That clearly wasn't working out too well.

Gia was hot and she seemed interested and what was wrong with that? I was a guy. She was a girl...but so was Molly. Gia was smoking, but Molly was... beautiful. Those kitten eyes and her lips, that mysterious way she smiled, her skin was incredible, even the Sharpie covered parts, and she smelled amazing... Besides, she seemed a lot more down-to-earth and level-headed than Gia. Talking to her had been so easy and it was never easy for me to talk, to anyone...

_Damn... I seriously need to sort my shit out._

Tammy pinned me with a sharp look. "I think that it would be best if I stayed here for the time being. You two are not getting out of school either."

"Come on, Moms," Josh groaned. "Why have class after finals? It's dumb."

"I'm not asking," she said. "You're both going to school tomorrow and for the rest of the semester." Then she followed Molly out of the kitchen.

"Damn," Josh muttered.

"What's going on?" Gia asked as she entered the kitchen, raking her hair back from her face. The bruise on her cheek had darkened overnight and looked painful.

"Donuts," Josh said. "Help yourself."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure you can spare any?"

"I'm as generous as I am handsome," he said, pushing the half-empty box toward her.

She leaned over the box, taking her time choosing. "Where did they come from?" she asked.

"Moms," Josh said and then stuffed another into his mouth.

She made a face. "Oh." She plucked out a powdered cake one and sank into one of the chairs. "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

"Tell her what?"

Gia glanced at Josh.

He lofted a brow. "Afraid I'll run and tell my mommy?"

"Nico said he would train me," she said.

"Makes sense," Josh said.

"It does?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Sure. You and your sister both. I'll talk to Moms about it. Make her see reason."

Gia's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah. After what happened last night, you clearly need it."

Her eyes cooled. "Thanks."

"No offense," he said. "But you were way too slow. And stupid. What the hell were you thinking, attacking him like that?"

She set the donut down, powdered sugar dusting the table. "I was thinking he was a vampire."

"Exactly. And you're not. You're lucky he didn't break your neck. Lesson number one, grasshopper: Vampire strong, you not."

"I've killed a vampire before," she said darkly.

"Yeah, I read the report. When his back was turned while he was busy juicing your sister."

Gia and I both winced.

"Are we all going to get soft around here?" Josh said, giving me an incredulous look.

"I'm not soft," Gia snapped.

"I'm going upstairs," I said suddenly, setting down my coffee so hard it sloshed over the rim and onto my hand.

Fortunately, it had cooled off enough that it didn't burn. I grabbed a towel and wiped my hand, tossing it on the table as I strode toward the stairs.

"Are you going to talk to Tammy?" Gia asked after me, standing up. "Do you want me to come with?"

"No," I said over my shoulder. I paused, looking back at her, willing her to sit down. "I mean, yeah, I'll talk to her. But... just stay here."

Slowly, she sat again. "Okay..."

I hurried up the stairs.

"It's interesting," Tammy was saying. "Do me a favor, see if you can find any more cases like these within say... five hundred miles of the city... in the last two years. Think you can do that?"

"Sure," Molly said.

"Great," Tammy smiled and turned. "Oh, Nico, hi."

Molly did that freezing up thing she did, like she didn't want to be seen. She didn't turn around, still facing the computer screen.

"I wanted to talk to you about training Gia," I said. "And Molly."

This got kitten's attention. She half-turned. "Training?"

Tammy's lips pursed. "You might be right."

"I really don't want to learn how to fight," Molly said.

"You need to," I said.

She shot me an irritated look. "I think I can decide that for myself."

"I think Nico might be right," Tammy said. "After what happened last night and... if Josh is correct, and the unusual quality of your soul is attractive to vampires, for whatever reason, then it would be best if you learned how to defend yourself."

Molly sagged. "But you can't really fight vampires..."

"You can learn a few things that might help you get away," Tammy said. "Training is also about building stamina."

Molly's lip curled. "You mean, running."

"Yes," she said. "That will be our focus. Defense and stamina."

My heart sank. "Your focus?" I asked.

"Yes," Tammy said. "I'll train the girls. You still have school. And depending on how your finals went, you might have summer school too."

My turn to sag. Plan failed. No extra time sweating with Molly up in the attic.

Tammy, having made both Molly and me look like we wanted to throw a fit, smiled. "I'm going back to my apartment to pack a few things."

"There aren't any more beds," I pointed out. Then, feeling like a jerk, I added, "I can crash on the couch."

"Gia and I can sleep in the same room," Molly offered.

_Or better idea_ ...

She scowled at me sharply and then just as quickly turned back toward the computer.

Great. Apparently, I'd managed to piss her off. I wasn't sure what I'd done. I hadn't even said anything.

"We'll figure it out when I get back," Tammy said. "You kids can do me a favor and clean up a bit, huh? This place is filthy. I'll stop at the grocery store too. I'm not sure how you've managed to grow as much as you have living off nothing but Powerbars and Gatorade."

She patted my chest as she slid by.

I waited until she was down the stairs and then moved into the room.

Molly's shoulders scrunched up as she leaned over the keyboard.

Dumbly, I searched around for something to say.

"Those articles you found..." I started.

She shot up, causing me to flinch. "Tammy's going to take a closer look at them. They're probably nothing." She hustled by me. "I think I'm going to go back to sleep for a while. My headache's coming back."

She darted out of the room. A second later, her door closed and the lock clicked.

I dropped onto my bed.

_Take a hint, Nico. The girl isn't interested._

A moment later, Gia appeared.

"Tammy said she's going to train us," she said, leaning against the doorway.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"Well, I'm glad I'll finally get to do it." She cranked the power up on her smile. "But I was really hoping it'd be with you."

_And I was really hoping it'd be with your sister, but I guess we can't all have what we want._

"Tammy's the martial arts expert anyway," I said. "You're better off with her."

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You look awfully gloomy."

"I'm just tired," I said, laying down, closing my eyes. "I'm going to take a nap. Will you close the door?"

"Oh... sure," she said.

But the door didn't close. And then I felt her lips touch mine, soft and warm. My eyes flew open. She started back.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

She blinked, eyes wide and bright and pretending innocence. "You don't want me to?"

_Uh..._

She lifted a nonchalant shoulder. "Sorry. Didn't mean to offend you."

Okay, so it had been almost two years since I'd kissed a girl, and apparently having a couple of them in my house had opened a Pandora's Box of pent-up hormones. Sure, I would've preferred Molly. Something about her... But Gia was sexy and willing and, clearly, I just needed to make out with someone, so...

"You didn't offend me," I said. "Just startled me."

Smile powering up. "Sorry."

"It's okay," I said.

"Is it?"

Actually, I found her aggressiveness off-putting, but then I started to get annoyed with myself. What was wrong with me? I'd been abstaining way too long.

"Sure," I said like I didn't care either way, which was kind of true.

And then she kissed me again.

Maybe it was wrong that when I closed my eyes, I imagined I was kissing Molly and not Gia, but it wasn't like Gia would know.

It wasn't like she could read my mind.
12: A Darker Shade of Red

Molly

**I** stood at the door, breathing deep and steeling my inner walls. This was silly. I had to figure out how to block Nico's thoughts. I couldn't just keep running from him.

I'd been six or seven when I'd first realized I could read people's minds. Elementary school was when it had really hit me.

I got sick at first. Throwing up all the time. Anxious. I couldn't sleep. I hid in my room. I missed a lot of school and almost had to repeat the fourth grade. I just couldn't stand it. Thousands of thoughts, battering me, like an endless storm. I'd been seriously afraid I was going crazy or that I would be driven crazy. Then one night, my mom and my real dad were fighting, again, and I could hear so many of their thoughts, so much pain and anger and ugly, ugly things and I just couldn't stand it anymore. I imagined myself in a box, a concrete box. And miraculously, it worked. My head had gone quiet.

It had taken years of practice and focus, but I'd constructed some pretty secure walls within myself. And my life had gotten almost normal again... up until the vampires.

But Nico was proving a real challenge. A part of me wondered why. But a bigger part just wanted to get a handle on it.

It'd been fine for a few minutes when he'd first come into the room. But then I'd nearly eavesdropped on some naughty thought he was having about my sister staying in his room. _Or better yet..._

I'd had to scramble to shut him out again before I heard anything more than that.

But worse than the thought was the emotion that had accompanied it. Lust. Nico's brain was thick with it—all hazy and hot and dizzying. I flushed just remembering. It wasn't like I cared if he had achy feelings for my sister, I just didn't want to have to feel them too. Gross.

But I needed to prove to myself that I had control. If Nico's thoughts could sneak into my head, then who would be next? Josh? Double gross. He'd probably fill my brain with lusty feelings for donuts.

I took a few minutes in my room to pull myself together and then unlocked my door and went out into the hall.

Nico's door was still open, so I peeked inside and immediately regretted it.

He and Gia were tangled up on his bed, tongues way too deep in each other's throats.

I backed away, wishing I could bleach my eyeballs.

As I hurried back downstairs, the weight in my chest grew heavier.

I'd had a boyfriend, Ethan, back home. At first, I'd missed him a lot, but after a while, I'd thought about him less and less. Somewhere along the way, I'd realized that I didn't so much miss him as I missed being with him, being with someone. So, I understood why Gia jumped on any available guy we came across. It was lonely, always running.

I wished I had the courage she did. Maybe I could've been the one making out with Nico in his room.

Not that Nico was the only guy around...

When I entered the kitchen, I found Josh in rubber gloves, scrubbing the sink. He glanced up at me.

He was cute. Maybe...

"Mommie Dearest is on a rampage." He pointed to the bucket of cleaning supplies. "Get scrubbing, Cinderella. Where's Nico?"

I must have made a face because he smirked.

"He's always gone for the messed-up ones." He shook his head, nylon bristles rasping against the stainless steel. "No offense."

I grabbed the broom. "None taken."

"So, has her alphabet soup always been a few letters short, or did she just lose her S-A-N-E?"

"Seriously?"

He shrugged, flipping on the faucet and rinsing the brush.

I frowned at him and started sweeping. On second thought, I was probably better off on my own.

Josh and I had cleaned the kitchen and were almost done with the living room when Gia and Nico finally ambled downstairs, dewy-eyed and flushed. Nico's lips were so red it looked like he'd gotten into Gia's makeup bag.

Josh and I exchanged a look.

"Everyone's tonsils intact?" Josh asked.

"Very mature," Gia snapped.

Josh grinned. Nico blushed a darker shade of red.

"I'm going to take these out," I told Josh, gathering up the empty pizza boxes.

Nico intercepted me. "I can do it."

I slid away from him. "I got it. Thanks."

Barriers up, holding, holding, holding...

I let out a breath of relief as I stepped onto the back porch. Gray clouds lay thick over the sky and a damp, chilly breeze swept across the yard, scented cool and clean like rain.

Pizza boxes flattened, I carted them down the steps to the larger garbage and recycling cans. The smaller bin on the porch was overflowing.

As much as I was trying not to think about it, Brennin's freaky vampire eyes rose up before me again, a washed-out gray hue, intense and unblinking, unnatural.

I shivered. I hadn't been sure I'd be able to get into his head. I wasn't sure how I'd done it with Samuel.

"Hello," a soft voice said from behind me.

I jumped, grabbing at the recycling can as if I could lift it or throw it. Yeah, sure. Tammy was right, I needed to train.

A woman in a fitted camel-colored coat stood in the driveway. The hood of her coat was up, half her face lost behind a pair of big, dark sunglasses—on a cloudy day.

Vampire.

I knew without knowing for sure. It was just something about the way she stood, the unnatural stillness of it.

"You don't need to be afraid," she said. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Vamp powers plied me. Sweet, lulling scents muddled my head, easing the tension in my shoulders, but I pushed back against them and stayed tense.

"Then why are you here—?" But even as I asked, I knew. "You're Ennis."

With a graceful finger, the nail pearly white, she hooked her sunglasses and pulled them off. Her eyes were green, vividly so. And the crazy thought occurred to me that it was the same color Nico's eyes would have been if he'd been a vampire.

"And who are you?" she asked, gaze fixed on me. I knew she was searching for it—my soul.

My hand tightened on the handle of the trash can. "No one," I said.

Her face softened. Wow, she was beautiful. Samuel had been handsome. Brennin probably was too, when he wasn't all vamped out. But Ennis was like... an angel.

"You're staying here?" She gestured casually at the house.

"He's okay," I said in a rush. "If that's what you're worried about. He's fine."

She took a careful step forward. "Is he?"

"As fine as he can be, I guess. He misses you—" I pursed my lips.

Her vamp powers were loosening my tongue. I should've been doing something... What was it? I couldn't think.

Her eyes glimmered with a reddish film—tears? "He told you that?"

"Sort of," I said, speaking in spite of myself. I couldn't get over how pretty she was. Her eyes were just so... green.

"They're trying to make him into a hunter," she said.

"He wants to be a hunter," I said.

"And you? Are you a hunter?" she asked.

"No."

"But you're with them?"

"Not really. My family was killed by..." I blinked, tensing again.

A vampire. She is a vampire.

She smiled softly, sadly. "I see. A vampire came for you, because of your soul."

For some reason—vamp powers—I was still talking. "Can you see it?"

She inclined her head in what seemed to be an affirmation.

"What do you see?" I asked.

She blinked, and her smile grew warmer. "It's the most beautiful thing, like jewels floating on the ocean under a summer sun. Rubies and emeralds, sapphires. So many colors, so... extraordinary."

My heart was fluttering in my chest. "What does it mean?"

She tilted her head. "I have no idea. Brennin said you did something to him."

"Did he?"

"He said you attacked him, inside his head."

"You sent him here?"

"No." A hard shadow flickered over her eyes. "I forbade him from returning."

"And he'll listen to you?"

"If he doesn't, he'll regret it," she said.

I believed her.

She ran the stem of her glasses over her lips. They were deeply red; a color Gia would've killed to have in her lipstick collection.

"Are you a danger to him?" she asked.

"Danger?" I repeated, losing myself in the velvety green layers of her eyes.

"I won't allow anything to harm him," she said.

"I wouldn't hurt Nico."

"No, but you might bring trouble."

A shadow moved at the corner of the fence, by the end of the driveway, and it pulled me out of Ennis's vampire spell. I jerked back. But there was nothing in the alley. At least not anymore.

"It's not my fault," I said to her, trembling as it hit me how easily I'd been subdued, "that vampires are so fucked up."

She smiled, a much cooler expression now. "No, I suppose not. But it's not exactly our fault either... What is your name?"

"Molly," I heard myself say, but couldn't believe it was me speaking. If I was a thought-thief, Ennis was the next closest thing. The second I pulled myself out of her trance, she drew me right back in.

"Molly," she repeated. "How long do you intend to stay, _Molly_?"

She made my name sound like the most delicious word in the language as if she loved saying it. And I wanted to hear her say it again.

"I don't know," I said.

"You may stay," she said, "so long as Nico remains safe. But if something happens, if you draw any unwanted attention..."

Suddenly she was right in front of me, fingers skimming my throat, green eyes all I could see.

"You're in my jurisdiction now, Molly," she said, her breath sweet and wonderful, "which means you're mine to do with as I see fit. And if I think you pose a threat to Nico, then I might just allow Brennin to pay you another visit. I've been working too hard to change things for us. Too hard. It's unfortunate that you've come along now, as you are, so unusual." Her eyes traced around me. "So... tempting."

Her fingers brushed the scars on my neck.

"What happened to the one who did this to you?"

"He's dead," I said.

"Good," she said. "Then he won't come looking for you."

"Molly?" Nico called from the kitchen.

And then she was gone.

My senses flooded back to me. I shook, my heart hammering. I gripped the handle of the recycling bin, afraid my quaking legs would give out under me.

"Molly?" Nico touched my shoulder and I flinched, spinning.

He stepped back, hands up. "Are you okay? You look like—" His face hardened and he scanned the yard. "Did you see something? Brennin?"

"No," I said, voice strangled.

"They can come out during the day," he said, "especially when it's cloudy like this—"

"I know!" I snapped.

The concern fled his eyes as they darkened, flickering with anger.

"Sorry," I said, skirting him, fleeing back into the house. "I just... Sorry."
13: Dream Girl, Nightmare World

Nico

**A** routine developed over the next few weeks.

School drudgery, training until dinner, sneaking off to make out with Gia afterward, Tammy finding us and ordering us to bed, where I would spend the night dreaming about making out with Molly instead. Rinse. Repeat. On the weekends, there was the added fun of being avoided by Molly, who only talked to me when I asked her a question and treated me like a leper the rest of the time.

I couldn't blame her. As intense as my dreams about her were getting, I was starting to wish I could avoid myself too. How messed up was it that I couldn't get a girl who wanted nothing to do with me out of my head? Worse still that I was basically dating her sister. Not that we could go out anywhere, but Gia was pushing the relationship further than I wanted. Again, seriously screwed up that I was the one trying to get a girl to keep her hands out of my pants.

Tammy had taken the guest room, putting Molly and Gia together in Ennis's room. I think she did it to make sure the girls had their own bathroom. Or that Gia and I wouldn't end up in the biggest bed in the house together. Not that I had any intention of making that happen, but more than once Gia had suggested I make a trip down to the pharmacy. One afternoon, I went and stood in the aisle, gazing at the ridiculous variety, wondering if actual adults bought glow-in-the-dark condoms. But I'd gotten distracted by a display of Sharpies nearby. They'd had packs of funky limited-edition colors on sale.

I'd ended up with a stupid number of markers and zero condoms.

The next day, I'd oh-so-subtly left the Sharpies on my bed along with the deck I'd refinished over the winter.

I knew Molly was still doing research in my room after I left for school. I never saw her, but—sorry if it's weird—I could smell her sometimes, especially if I sat in my computer chair right after I got home. It would still be warm too.

The markers and the deck had been gone when I'd gotten back, but that had been over a week ago and I hadn't seen a trace of either since.

On the last day of school, I was halfway down the block before I remembered that I was supposed to return my American History final, D+ (the plus makes all the difference), with Ennis's signature on it to my teacher. Forging Ennis's signature had become a part-time job for me these days.

I slid my board to a stop. Josh glanced back but kept rolling.

"I forgot the stupid test," I called.

He pointed his finger at his head like a gun, shooting himself. He skated through an intersection, flipping off some driver who'd been forced to slam on his breaks. The guy bashed his fist against his horn, but Josh didn't even look back.

I pivoted and headed home. Sweat sluiced down my body even though it was early in the morning. Summer was piling on quick. Pleasant, warm days were quickly giving way to oppressive, humid ones.

Bounding up the front steps, I opened the door, disarmed the alarm, and headed upstairs. Since Tammy was around, the house was a lot cleaner. The floors and the banister gleamed again.

At the top of the stairs, I could hear the rhythmic thump of someone running on the treadmill, joined by the steady beat of music. The way Gia told it, Tammy was a real drill sergeant. And Gia liked to flex her muscles to prove it. Even though Gia hadn't been a huge fan of Tammy in the beginning, it seemed she enjoyed Tammy's company now.

The house was too warm. Time to switch on the A/C, or at least crack open some of the upstairs windows.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, pushed open my bedroom door, and stopped dead.

Molly was on my bed, on her stomach, her hair pulled back from her face in a messy bun. Markers were arrayed around her as she colored in the dark-side of my deck. And she was in a tank top. Her bare arms were covered in Sharpie tattoos, all the way up to her shoulders, trailing down onto her chest, of which I had a very generous and utterly engrossing view.

Music was pouring out of my computer's speakers. My music.

I had only a split second to take it all in, because she yelped, scrambling up off the bed and grabbing her hoodie from the back of the chair, stuffing her arms into it.

My mind was a perfect blank—the kind inspired by sensory overload.

"Nico." She zipped her hoodie, right up to her neck. "I thought you were at school."

"Uhh..." Was all I could manage.

She blew out a breath. "I was just... um..."

I sidled by the papers she'd scattered over my floor and picked up the deck.

"It's not done," she said.

I ran my fingers over the design; it took me a minute to see that, among the intricate swirls and curls like psychedelic waves or smoke, there was a ninja.

I grinned. "Sick."

She tugged her sleeves over her hands. "It's not done," she repeated more softly.

I looked down at the mess. Tammy had made me pick up my room, and clean the floors, so there was plenty of room for the papers, which were covered in yellow sticky notes.

"What's this?"

"Research," she said, clearing her throat. "Missing-person cases. I think they're connected. One vamp, or a couple of them, working together. But the disappearances happened so far apart," she said, frowning. "I printed them. Sometimes you can spot things you didn't see before... on paper." Her gaze was touching everything in the room but me. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"Oh yeah. I came back for my test." I pointed to the folded sheets of paper by the keyboard behind her.

She turned and picked it up. She held them out to me, her cheeks still flushed pink.

"What makes you think they're connected?" I asked as I took the test from her.

"Well..." she said as if she needed to speak slowly to me.

Geez, she hadn't looked at my test, had she? I stuffed it into my back pocket.

"They're not the usual victims," she said. "Most of them weren't even forwarded to the hunters. I found them myself. But they're all kind of the same. Older people, mostly guys, loners." She crouched down, picking up one of the papers. "Not exactly the most upstanding sorts."

"What do you mean?"

A thick lock of hair came out of her ponytail and fell over her face. "They all had criminal records."

My stomach did something like a McTwist. "Criminals?"

She nodded. "Yeah. A lot of them had just been released from prison."

She set the paper down and I found myself scanning the papers again. There were so many.

"All of these are different guys?" I counted. More than two dozen.

"Yup," she said, standing. "I know it's not the usual M.O. for a vampire. And the range is what's really getting me. The only real connection seems to be that they're all from this state or one that borders it. I'm not even sure they're all vampire victims, but it does seem weird. Plus, they all went missing within the last—"

"Two years," I finished, my sweat turning cold.

"Yeah," she said.

I dropped the deck onto the bed behind me. "Did you tell Tammy?"

"Yeah, I mean, she knows I'm looking into it. But I haven't told her much just because... I wasn't sure what I was looking at."

My vision tunneled. My ears started to ring.

"Nico?"

"I've got to go to class," I muttered, stepping on the papers on my way out, crushing them.
14: Sisters

Molly

**"T** hey're his sister's victim's," Tammy said later that morning after I'd gathered up the papers and shown them to her.

We were down in the kitchen. Gia stood by the fridge, chugging a bottle of water, done with her morning of hunter training. Next, it would be my turn. I'd shed my hoodie after Nico had left. The house was sweltering. My marker art was starting to smear and bleed onto my clothes.

"His...? But they can't all be," I said. "Most of these are way outside of the city. They're outside of the state."

Tammy blew out a breath and sat, still in her form-fitted workout gear—all black.

"Ennis used to be a lawyer." She fanned through the papers. "Nico told us that she'd killed a man, someone accused of child molestation, who'd gotten off on a technicality. It was the only death we felt certain we could attribute to her. But it makes sense. When she was alive, they lived one state over. She'd be aware of criminals in that area."

"But what about the vampire who owns that territory?" Gia asked.

Tammy chewed on her lip, not answering as she shuffled through the cases I'd printed out.

"You should've seen the look on Nico's face," I said, miserably. "He knew."

And I hadn't even been reading his mind.

My walls had held up when Nico had found me sprawled on his bed like I owned the place, and in my tank top, which was skintight and practically see-thru. I'd picked it up at a second-hand shop when we'd been down South last summer, just to sleep in because it was so hot at night. The tank had already been thin when I'd bought it, but after a year of wear, it was pretty much nonexistent.

My face burned.

Not that Nico had noticed.

After all, I was pretty sure he and Gia were having sex. They snuck off often enough and Gia was looking pretty content with herself, but still... He'd seen my arms too, which meant he knew just how weird I was. Except he'd obviously noticed them before. Otherwise, he wouldn't have left the Sharpies. Which was the best gift anyone had given me... in forever.

And here I was, laying out every one of his sister's victims on his bedroom floor, right in his face.

I dropped my head into my hands. "Oh my god."

Gia came and stood between Tammy and me, picking up each of the articles as Tammy set them aside.

"So, she's like a good vampire?" Gia asked.

"There's no such thing," Tammy said flatly.

"Yeah, but, at least she's murdering people who suck anyway, right?" Gia dropped the paper back on the table. "And she's taking care of Nico still, isn't she?"

I sank back in my seat. I hadn't told anyone about my encounter with Ennis. I didn't know why I'd kept it to myself. Maybe I was ashamed I'd been so vulnerable. Ennis had some serious vamp powers. I'd been totally mesmerized—deer, headlights.

I caught myself gnawing on the string of my hoodie and ripped it out of my mouth.

No matter what I did, I couldn't get Nico's expression out of my mind. He'd lost all color and had just looked so shocked and... pained. Thinking about it made my chest ache.

"There's something..." Tammy murmured, frowning. "You're right, Molly. These are too far out, even if..."

"Even if what?" I asked.

Her brow furrowed. "Nothing." She pushed her chair back. "I need to make a few calls. You two head back upstairs. Gia spot her. I want her on the weights."

I sagged but didn't argue.

For the first time in a long time, I was tempted to deliberately peek into someone's thoughts. But I didn't. Tammy disappeared around the corner before I could give in to the temptation.

But at least I'd managed to keep Nico out. Maybe I could stop making excuses to leave the room every time he tried to talk to me.

"You heard the lady," Gia said with an evil smile. "Weight time, girl."

"I'm going," I grumbled, standing. "You think that I could convince Tammy to buy me some new clothes?"

"Probably not," she said. "But I bet I could convince Nico to buy _me_ some new clothes and I could probably slip in a few things for you."

"It's his sister's money, you know?"

She shrugged. "Seems fair. The only reason we don't have any clothes is because of vampires. Vampires owe us new wardrobes."

I dragged myself toward the stairs. "I feel like I owe him an apology."

"So, apologize." She stomped past me, up the steps. "It's not like you knew you were investigating his sister's rap sheet. Besides, maybe he needs to deal with it. His sister is a vampire. She murders people. Even if it's only criminals. Time to face facts and move on."

"That's pretty harsh," I said, shuffling behind her through the hall.

She stopped at the end, holding open the attic door.

"He really misses his sister," I said, moving instead into the bedroom.

"How would you know? You never even talk to him," she asked, following me. "You haven't been snooping through his stuff, have you? He doesn't have a journal or something... does he?"

"No, I haven't been snooping through his stuff."

Just his thoughts.

I changed into the only sports bra I owned, which had little in the way of elastic left. Something about having no clothes that fit was depressing. Plus, it was zero fun to run. Gia didn't seem to care. She hardly had any chest to speak of, but it was painful for me. And it wasn't like I was huge or anything. Still, I wondered if there was an ace bandage or something that I could wrap around my chest. I went to the bathroom, opening the drawers and cabinets-nothing.

Gia hovered in the doorway. "Don't you like him?"

"I never said I didn't like him."

"Why do you act like he doesn't exist?"

I shrugged. "How am I supposed to act? He's your boyfriend."

"But you don't think there's anything wrong with him?" she asked as I edged by her, sighing.

I tugged on a T-shirt. "Wrong?"

"I don't know." She twisted a dark strand of hair around her finger. "It's like he's somewhere else most of the time."

"He's got other things going on in his life besides you, Gia," I said. "You know, like a sister who's a vampire?"

As opposed to one who's just obsessed with killing them.

"I guess." She scrutinized me in a weirdly intense way.

"What?" I asked.

"You haven't been talking to him at all?" she asked.

"We've talked," I said. "Just today, in fact." My stomach twisted, guiltily, again.

She arched an eyebrow. "But he hasn't said anything to you?"

"Anything like what?" I asked as I pulled on my socks.

"Well... he did get all those markers." She nodded toward the Sharpies on the dresser.

"Yeah?" I dropped onto the bed as I laced my sneakers. "So what?"

"Never mind," she said with a sigh. "I just wish we could get out of the house once in a while. Tammy's always showing up at the worst times. But, to be honest, I'm not that into him."

"Then why are you having sex with him?"

Her eyes widened. "I'm not."

I gave her a skeptical look. "Really...?"

"Yes, really," she said, pert. "I don't think he's interested."

My eyes narrowed. "I doubt that." Every guy was interested in Gia. "Why would he be making out with you?"

"Why am I making out with him?" she retorted. "Convenience."

"That doesn't sound like fun."

"More fun than not making out at all," she said, sticking out her tongue and striding back into the hall. "Let's go. You got some weights to lift."

Later, as I was hitting my third mile on the treadmill, Tammy finally showed up. She reached over and slowed my pace down to a walk, which I could've kissed her for. I toweled the sweat from my face. Gia quit punching the heavy bag and joined us.

"What's up?" Gia asked, still bouncing slightly on her toes.

"I have a favor to ask," Tammy said. "I don't want you to mention anything more about these cases to Nico."

"Why not?" I asked in between panting breaths.

"Because we don't know anything," she said. "And there's no reason to upset him further."

"Okay," Gia said.

I switched off the treadmill, leaning heavily on the console. "What if he asks?"

"Then tell him you turned it over to me," she said, "which you have. You don't need to look any further into it. I'll put you back on file duty."

Ugh.

"Okay?" she said to me.

Grudgingly, I nodded. It wasn't like I'd been talking to Nico anyway, but something about Tammy's request felt duplicitous. I couldn't say why exactly, it just did. And I didn't like it.

She hit the buttons on the treadmill. I stumbled back into a run, silently cursing her.

She watched me for a moment and then took out her phone.

"Are you calling someone?" I asked. "I can turn off my machine again if it's too loud."

She smiled at me, knowingly. "No, hon. I'm ordering you some proper workout clothes."

Second best gift in forever.
15: Time to Bail

Nico

**M** y mood was about as black as it got. The last day of school went by in a blur and I didn't say goodbye to anyone or wish them a good summer, I didn't even wait for Josh afterward. I just left.

It wasn't like I didn't know Ennis was killing people. I did. It was just... seeing them all...

Of course, they were criminals. Molly had been wrong about that. It was totally a vampire's M.O. At least one vampire's in particular.

The sky had turned from clear to cloud-smeared by the time school let out. I didn't get that usual freed-from-school rush, which was just more salt in the wound. I mean, what had I suffered through a whole year for if I couldn't at least enjoy the end of it?

I went to the skate park, even though I was under strict instructions to go straight home after school. But I needed to burn some of the blackness away before I went back.

And I didn't really want to deal with Gia or Molly, for that matter. Frankly, they were both pissing me off. Or maybe I was just pissed at myself.

Seeing Molly on my bed like that had been both a dream come true and a total nightmare. I was starting to wish that they'd both move on already. I was sick of the girl I could have and I was sick of not having the girl I wanted.

I ground it out at the park until the clouds started to turn dark and the rumbles of thunder gave way to fat drops of rain, and until I bit it on the handrail and busted my ass.

Time to bail.

Peeling myself off the pavement, grimacing, I spotted an extremely unwelcome sight.

Vampire.

He reclined on the bench under the lamp post, watching me. Not even pretending. He wasn't in vamp mode, but I could tell.

He was good-looking in a douchey way, sculpted blond hair and expensive leather shoes. But his eyes gave it away. They were just too-damned blue, too bright, even from across the park. And they were giving me the serious stare down.

The rain started coming down hard, soaking me through, plastering my hair to my head.

I picked up my backpack, tearing out the false bottom and ripping the ceramic knife free from where I had it velcroed.

And damn, I couldn't tell if I was crazy or just in a suicidal mood, but instead of dropping my board and tearing out of there, I strode right up to him, knife out for the whole world to see.

"Who the hell are you?" Rain ran down my face and into my mouth, warm yet chilling.

He continued to sit casually, designer clothes drenched. He looked twenty, twenty-one, tops, but who knew how old he really was. That was one thing the movies didn't lie about. Vampires could live a long, long time. Unless someone cut off their head or pierced their heart—bled them out.

He squinted up at me through the rain.

"You smell familiar," he said as if a vampire wasn't creepy enough without saying shit like that.

"I'm not looking for a boyfriend," I said. "This isn't your town. This isn't your turf. I don't know what you're doing here, but I suggest you get out before you're caught."

He continued to smile, interlacing his fingers over his stomach, getting comfortable.

"I'll be happy to leave. Just as soon as I have what belongs to me, I'll be gone faster than you can"—and then he was up and in my face—"blink."

I didn't flinch. I didn't have time to. His nostrils flared and he sniffed me. Not shy, this one.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "You stink of her." He stepped back, smile widening, giving me room, and a chance to breathe. "And where there's one, there's bound to be the other. So, tell you what. You take me to where she is, and I'll let you live."

What the hell had I gotten myself into? I was well and truly fucked. I had just thrown two years of training out the window by confronting this guy.

"I don't know what you're—"

"Gia!" he shouted, eyes bleaching for a second before resuming their preternatural blue hue. "Or more precisely," he said with a smile, "my Molly. Tell you what, you can have Gia if you want. Just keep her out of my way while I retrieve what's mine and you can both live. It's more than a fair deal. Otherwise, I kill you now and I find her anyway."

Rational Guy in my head took over—about freakin' time.

"You're Samuel." I changed my stance, shifting my balance.

I'd have to try to hit him fast and then run my ass off. Either that or, like he'd said, he'd kill me.

"Oh, has she talked about me?" he asked. "All good things I hope."

"Yeah, she was real happy, you know, about you murdering her parents," I said.

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't murder them. I turned Dave and he murdered their mother. He was supposed to kill Gia too, but Molly is just so... distracting."

He had that right.

"I had no idea what it was." His gaze became distant and intense all at once, obsessed. "A soul in color. Not just color, colors. It's too bad that you can't see it. It's... incredible."

I didn't need to see Molly's soul to see she was incredible. But this guy talking about her like that wasn't doing anything to help Rational Guy stay in control.

"Aren't you a little worried what it might do to your soul?" I asked, firming my grip on my board, and the knife. I just needed him to move another step closer...

"Well, I wasn't planning to drain her all at once. I thought, maybe, I'd keep her for a while. Just to see..."

A lash of fury whipped through me. Josh was right. Molly was a vamp magnet. I knew too well what that felt like, except no one had been interested in locking me up and keeping me like a cow—milking my soul. But it didn't matter because there was no way in hell I was letting this guy anywhere near her.

Logic guy was attempting to shut up blinded-by-rage guy, but he wasn't doing too well.

"What she can do... That's worth exploring a little bit," Samuel was saying, as if to himself.

_Just one step closer, chode. Come on._

"Do?"

Samuel smiled, pityingly, at me. "Maybe it doesn't work on humans. Maybe it only works on vampires."

"What?"

He stepped closer and I swung my board. He caught it like I knew he would, but then I chucked my knife, letting it fly. But I didn't wait to see if Tammy's knife-throwing lessons had paid off.

I turned and ran.

I got about six steps before I was slammed onto the ground, scraping my chin.

Samuel grabbed my hair, wrenching my head back.

_Ouch._

But in the next moment, he was gone.

I stumbled to my feet, hardly believing it when his weight vanished from me.

I glanced back. He flew through the air, arms flailing, toward the trees near the creek. A hooded figure paused on the sidewalk behind me. My hero.

My first thought was Ennis, of course. But it only took a second for me to see it wasn't Ennis. The broad shoulders, jeans. It was a guy.

Brennin?

He took off after Samuel and I didn't hang around to thank him. I bolted for home. And Molly.
16: Do. Not. Think.

Molly

**T** he lights flickered and I held my breath, gazing upward as another roll of thunder caused the house to tremble. Thankfully, the lights stayed on. I wiped the steam from the mirror. After all the sweating and a shower, my arm art was totally faded. As I toweled dry my hair, I considered touching up my skin but decided to finish Nico's skateboard first...

As an apology for laying out articles about his sister's murder victims all over his bedroom floor.

I pulled on my underwear and the giant Cowboys T-shirt I most often slept in. Not that I was a fan, but again, all my clothes had come from the donation bins and second-hand shops and we hadn't been given much time to search for anything. We'd felt lucky when any of our guards had allowed us to go into a store at all. Besides, they were all I had at the moment. Everything else was in the wash.

Settling on the foot of the bed, I could hear Gia's music thumping upstairs. I glanced toward the window, but the blackout curtains were drawn and I wasn't like Gia. I didn't want to look.

Except Nico hadn't come home yet.

Tammy had flipped a lid when Josh had returned without him.

Then dinner had gone by, mouths growing thinner, knuckles whiter. Josh was the only one who'd finished his ravioli. Finally, when Nico still hadn't answered his phone after the hundredth call, Tammy and Josh had gone out to look for him.

The mirror over the dresser rattled from Gia doing her kickboxing video. Of course, she'd wanted to go with Tammy and Josh. But Tammy had just given her the Medusa stare and Gia had actually sort of turned to stone—she hadn't argued, which was basically the same thing for her.

I was worried too, but I knew there wasn't anything I could do. Running around the city during a storm wasn't going to help anybody. And besides, I was pretty sure he was okay. I mean, I wasn't using my sixth sense or anything. Or maybe I was. Everyone seemed to be afraid that he'd been picked off by a vampire, but I felt certain he just wasn't ready to come home yet. Not after what had happened earlier, which didn't make me feel any less awful, but I wasn't afraid he was dead.

In fact, I felt sure he wasn't.

I spread out the Sharpies on the bed, in a rainbow fan that made some part of me extremely happy, and then lost myself in the colors.

I had just capped the argyle green—such a fun color—and was debating on using one of the metallics for some highlighting when the door swung open.

"Nico!" I jumped off the bed. Before I could curse him out for busting in on me again, this time when I wasn't even wearing any pants, I noticed he was soaked and his chin was bleeding. "What's—?"

He swept in, grabbed my crumpled, empty duffle from the floor, and threw it into my arms.

"Pack your stuff. We have to go." He tugged open the drawers of the dresser. "Where are your clothes?"

I hugged the musty duffle to my chest. "In the wash. What happened to you? Everyone's out looking for you."

His eyes were too big and too bright. He glanced down at my bare legs. "Well, do you have any pants? Where are your shoes?" He spotted my sneakers by the door and grabbed them, plunking them on top of the duffle. "We'll have to walk to the car. Tammy doesn't know about it... I don't think. Where's she at? It doesn't matter. We'll call her later. Or not. It's in a garage downtown. Maybe we should take a cab—" He spun around and charged out of the room.

I stared after him for a second, head-spinning, and then dumped my duffle and my shoes on the bed and chased after him.

He was in his room. He'd pulled a fireproof lockbox out from somewhere and was digging through papers and envelopes of cash until he came out with a set of keys.

"What's going on? Where have you been?" I asked.

I was tempted to let my guard down to read his thoughts, but I was already dizzy enough. Plus, I was a little afraid of what I'd find in his head. He was wild-eyed.

"Why aren't you dressed?" he demanded. "Get dressed. We have to get out of here."

"You're bleeding!"

He touched his chin, wincing slightly. Then both of his eyes finally focused on the same point, me.

"He's here. He came after you."

I frowned. "He—?" My heart stopped. "Samuel?"

" _Manicured douchebag pretty boy vamp._ " Nico stormed to his closet, pulling it open and dropping a bag onto the bed. He ripped open his own dresser drawers and took clothes out by the handfuls, stuffing them into his bag.

My stomach churned, bile pushing into my throat.

" _I knew it. I knew he'd come after me._ "

" _You should've said something_." Nico dumped the contents of the box into the bag too. " _He's going to track me here. Assuming Brennin didn't kill him, but I'm not going to wait around to find out. We're leaving now_."

" _I have to tell Gia._ "

" _He doesn't care about Gia. It's her fault he found me. He could smell her on me. I'm so stupid. I just walked right up to the guy_ —"

" _You did what?_ "

" _I was just pissed off, okay? I wasn't thinking._ "

" _You can't go. You need to stay here. You're safe here. I'm the one who has to leave. Gia and me. This doesn't have anything to do with you_ —"

" _You know what? I don't even care if you hate me or think I'm a creep or whatever your deal is, I'm going with you. I saw you with Brennin, you just froze up. And Gia was about as stupid as I was today. But I won't fuck up like that again, trust me. I'll make sure you're safe. I won't let anything happen to you. I sure as hell won't let that son of a bitch lock you up like some pretty, caged bird."_

I charged up to him. " _You're still not thinking straight! You can't come with me. You can't help me. Your sister said she'd kill me if_ —"

" _You saw Ennis? You talked to her?_ "

" _She talked to me_ —"

" _What the hell, Molly? What else haven't you told me? What did she say to you?_ "

" _She told me that if I did anything that put you in harm's way, she'd kill me. And she was serious. If you come with me, there'll be two vampires hunting me. And frankly, your sister is a lot scarier than Samuel._ "

" _What the hell do you mean_ —?"

" _She loves you, Nico. She cares about you. And she_ will _kill me if anything happens to you because of me. I know you and Gia have been_ —"

" _Gia? You really think this has anything to do with her?"_

" _Then why do you want to come with us? This isn't your problem. I am not_ —"

" _I'm not arguing with you about it, Molly... Oh my god, she thinks I'm insane. And she's right. I'm totally out of my goddamned mind. What the hell am I doing? I'm just going to bail on my life, and everything, for a girl who doesn't want anything to do with me?_ "

I stopped breathing for a second. Biting my lip, I backed away from him.

" _I don't believe this_ ," I thought.

" _You're not the only one_ ," he thought, _back_.

My knees threatened to give out and I leaned against the wall to keep from falling over. " _Oh my god. He doesn't even know_ —"

" _What don't I know?_ " He turned to face me, rage and frustration and concern and fear battling through him... and something else. His gaze turned hazy for a second as his eyes moved from my face, down.

I crossed my arms over my chest, my knees bunching, my skin heating up as the swell of fiery tension pushed off him.

His eyes flicked quickly away. He jammed his fingers against his forehead. " _Shit. Now is definitely not the time. Damn, I wish she'd get dressed._ " He turned his back to me. " _I have to get her out of here. I can deal with the fact that I'm obsessed with a girl who doesn't give a shit about me later..."_

" _Is he talking about me?_ "

He spun back. " _Yes, I'm talking about you, Molly. Are there any other half-naked girls in my room right now? No. And_ ..." He frowned, stalling, holding up his hand as if to stop me.

But I wasn't moving. I wasn't breathing. I was doing my best not to think a Single. Thing.

"What the...?" His head tilted like he was listening for some far-off sound—like my thoughts maybe. "Are we talking right now?" he asked, out loud. He half-turned, looking around. "We were..."

Then he zeroed in on me again. " _Is she... are you... can you hear what I'm thinking?_ "

I reached for the door, but he rushed forward and cut me off, slamming the door shut and blocking it, forcing me back against the wall again. I struggled to keep my mind blank.

Silence, filled only with the bump of Gia's bass and the rush of rain against the windows stretched on and on.

" _Molly!_ "

I flinched.

"Holy shit!" His fingers went into his hair. "You can read my mind?"
17: There Might Not Be Another

Molly

**I** stammered as he retreated a few steps, eyes bugging.

"I'm not trying to... I mean I'm not..." I stamped my foot, kickstarting my tongue. "I've been trying not to!"

His hands ran down his face. _Don't think anything. Don't think._

I rolled my eyes.

He thrust his finger at me. "Don't."

"I don't want to! Why do you think I've been avoiding you all this time?"

He took another step back. "We were just... We had a conversation, in our heads, didn't we? Did that actually happen?"

I nodded, wringing my hands and chewing my lip. "Yeah."

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know! I've never done it before! I mean, I've never had a conversation in my head before... with someone else. I've been trying to keep you out, but you have ninja thoughts. I put up walls, but you get through anyway."

He dropped back onto the bed, raking his hands into his hair. His thoughts rushed like a flooded stream, almost too fast to make sense of.

_This isn't happening. It can't be happening. Oh my god. She's a freak. I'm a freak. Is this why her soul's in color? A mind reader? Is that even a real thing? Oh shit. Has she been hearing everything? EVERYTHING?_

"No," I cut in. "I haven't. I haven't been hearing anything. That's why I've been staying away from you. That's why I need to stay away from you."

I reached for the door again, but he shot up and blocked me. I gritted my teeth, pushing back against his thoughts. But it was like trying to hold a door shut against a vampire.

"Okay," he said, taking a measured breath. "You can read minds. That's..."

"Freakish?" I finished for him.

"Yeah. It is," he said.

I scowled at him.

"But I don't care," he said. "I mean, I do care. But at the moment, there is a much bigger problem. His name is Samuel and he's come a long way to find you."

I closed my eyes for a second, reinforcing my barriers.

"You're not reading my mind now, are you—?"

My hand flew up between us. "Just shut up for a second, please, okay? Normally, it's easy to keep people out, but you're just—"

"A freak?"

My eyes cracked open. The faintest smile tilted his lips, but I forced my eyes away from them.

"Yeah," I said. "Try to stay calm, alright? That would help."

"I'm having a little trouble with that right now."

"I noticed," I said. "You just fought a vampire, I get it. But you need to step back and take a minute. You said that Brennin showed up?"

"Yeah. Lucky for me."

"So Brennin might have killed him?"

_Please?_

"Maybe," he said darkly. "But I'm not counting on it."

"Fine. Let's assume he didn't. Let's assume Samuel killed Brennin and that he's followed you back here and he's outside, right now."

Energy began to crackle off Nico as he tensed. His thoughts buzzed in my head, threatening to slip in.

I strained against them, head throbbing. I still couldn't believe we'd had a conversation in our heads. That had never happened to me before.

"So, if we leave here right now," I said, "he could be waiting. And we'll just be making it easier for him."

"He can come in whenever he wants," Nico said tightly.

"He can try to come in," I said. "But the alarm will go off if he does. And we have weapons here. And lots of doors. Don't think I didn't notice that the attic door is steel reinforced. That would give even a vampire pause. Besides, this is your sister's house. And I'm pretty sure... she's watching it."

"You saw her," he said in a flat, distant voice.

I nodded.

"She threatened you?"

"And I guess she was right to," I said, drooping. "I can't believe he's here."

"You didn't know Samuel was following you?"

I shook my head. "I haven't seen him since that night. It's been more than a year... I didn't know my soul was the reason he'd come after us in the first place. Not until Josh said it was different. I didn't know it was"—I threw my hands up in the air—"vampire catnip. I mean, I guess I was always kind of afraid he might show up again, but..."

He took a step back, rubbing his thumb over his palm. Keeping him out was giving me a headache and a sharp pain in my neck that was radiating out to my shoulders.

"What did she say to you exactly?" he asked.

"Your sister?"

He nodded.

My stomach knotted, my eyes started to burn. "She said that if I did anything to hurt you, she'd kill me, more or less." My throat tightened. "I guess this is what she was worried about."

And for the first time since all of this had happened, a sense of hopelessness overtook me. A hole opened under me and I was falling and falling, and I just knew there was no way I was going to survive. The crazy idea I'd had about living a normal life again was a tiny light above me, growing smaller and smaller, impossibly distant and out of reach.

"Shit," he muttered, "don't cry."

I hadn't realized I was crying until he pointed it out, and that only made the tears come faster. I swiped at them, uselessly.

I pushed off the wall, wiping my nose with my sleeve. Great, ugly crying too. Just what I needed.

"I have to leave," I said, breathing through the tears, trying to quell them. "If Samuel doesn't show up, then your sister will as soon as she finds out what happened."

"Fine," he said, moving between me and the door again. "We'll leave. But you're right. We can't go now. We'll wait until daylight."

"Not you," I said, mopping my face with my sleeve again. "Why do you keep—?"

"You really haven't been reading my mind, have you?" he said softly.

Tingling heat bloomed somewhere deep inside of me and began to fan outwards, stopping my tears just as quickly as they had started.

"Just because I can, doesn't mean I want to," I said. "It really isn't something I enjoy. Normally, I don't have any trouble controlling it."

"Except with me. Why's that?"

"I don't know." I felt like I should be leaving, but I wasn't. I couldn't seem to move.

He smiled a little. "Ninja thoughts. That's why you drew the ninja on my deck."

"Very perceptive. Can you read minds?"

"Apparently, I can. At least, I can hear your thoughts sometimes," he said. "Did you do that on purpose? That whole conversation just now—?"

"No," I said, frowning. "I really don't know how that happened. It just... did."

Why wasn't I leaving? Why was my heart rate battling the relentless bass beats of Gia's music? I needed to tell her what had happened. We had to get ready to go. I should have been calling Tammy and telling her that Nico was safe and that Gia and I would have to be moved again.

My head panged, aching against the press of him—so close. If I didn't leave soon, I wasn't going to be able to keep out of his head. I edged sideways, reaching around him for the doorknob.

"I have to go tell Gia—"

My arm brushed up against his and a burning torrent of his thoughts swept into my head.

_Just tell her. Don't just stand here, you moron. She doesn't know. Somehow... thankfully. But you have to do something now. She's right here. God, she smells good... Now's not the time. Yes, it is. It is definitely the time. There might not be another._

I drew my hand back from the doorknob, shifting so we weren't touching anymore, remembering what I'd heard before, about being obsessed. I let my gaze meet his.

_Shit, she's not reading my mind right now, is she?_

I tried to keep my face neutral, but the room was suddenly too hot and my breath too short. I had this dumb moment of disbelief. Like I couldn't hear what he was thinking, like I couldn't feel the intense heat accompanying those thoughts, like I couldn't believe he was thinking and feeling those things about me.

But he was.

And I felt really stupid and stunned and happy all at once.

_Just kiss_ —

Okay.

My body moved, swept up in the burning surge. Head back, heels up, fingers snagging his shirt, lips pressing against his... Total body-rush, dizzy head to toe, my heart beating like I was trying to catch up to a train.

His arms cinched around me, crushing me against him.

_Oh, thank you, god_ , he thought.

I broke away, a breath of laughter escaping me.

His eyes, only half-open, misty and unfocused, narrowed. "You heard that, didn't you?"

"Sorry," I said.

"I don't care," he said, kissing me again before the last word had left his lips.

_I don't care_ , he was thinking. _Not about anything but this right now._

I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him harder, deeper, swept away by the pulsing charge of our bodies meeting, our mouths touching, his taste, his smell, his heat. And better, not having to hold him out anymore.

" _But what about Samuel_?" some distant voice in my head asked.

" _Forget about that, okay? Please?_ " Nico's teeth grazed my lip, parting them.

" _We can't forget about_ —"

" _We'll deal with it_ —"

" _We need to tell Gia, and Tammy and Josh are_ —"

" _Later. Later. Can I_ —?"

" _Yes. Oh, that's... oh."_

" _God, you feel so good. I can't believe how good you feel. Just_ ..."

" _This whole time? Why didn't you say anything? Why were you making out with Gia?_ "

" _You treated me like a plague rat._ "

" _I was trying to stay out of your head._ "

" _That's good, or else you probably would've been creeped out._ "

He shoved the stuff off his bed. The lockbox crashed against the floor. He stripped off his wet shirt.

And then we were on the bed, together.

I wasn't shy or embarrassed or self-conscious, because I knew just what he was thinking and feeling. Keeping him out had been such a struggle. But letting him in was so easy, such a relief.

" _I'm not creeped out now, am I?"_ I pushed him back slightly, my hands flat against his chest. " _Are you creeped out? You know we've been talking in our heads this whole time?_ "

He blinked, hovering inches above me, his weight spread out over me. And he was right, it felt amazing. Way better than it had ever been with Ethan, like a whole other universe different.

" _Who's Ethan?"_ he asked, then cocked his head. " _Okay, this is weird, but only when I stop to think about it._ "

I smiled and then kissed him, pulling him back to me.

" _Then don't stop."_
18: They Just Are

Nico

**" _W_** _hy did I buy Sharpies instead of condoms?_ " I was thinking.

Inside my head, I could hear her laugh.

I won't say it wasn't strange, and confusing, especially if I gave Rational Guy a chance to think about it. But the weirdest part was how effortless it was. So long as I just let it happen, hearing her thoughts, conversing with her in my head felt totally natural. Way less complicated, actually, than talking out loud.

And it made everything that was happening even better because I knew right away if something I did felt good to her. I didn't have to guess or hope or even ask. Her thoughts were all right there, slipping through my mind, totally accessible. At the same time, I was also getting the hang of pulling back from them too, letting them skim by without really hearing them, like birds flying past. I was aware of them, but unless I focused, they were just a part of the scenery, joining the constant background noise of all those thousands of thoughts I had all the time that I didn't pay much attention to. Like, oh, I'm kind of hungry. I wonder what time the game is on? Did I plug in my phone?

Except now her thoughts were in there too.

_Do that again. Slower. More. Yes. Oh._

I didn't think about them, I just reacted, like I would have reacted to my own thoughts.

Hungry? Eat. Itch? Scratch it.

Kiss your neck? Absolutely.

Slower? My pleasure.

More? Your wish is my command.

It probably doesn't need to be said that this was the best moment of my life. Nothing else even came close. I finally had Molly and it was better than I had imagined. I wasn't sure if it was the telepathy thing or just the culmination of weeks of dreams finally coming true or the fact that she was perfect in every way, but I had the definite sense that I was the luckiest guy on the planet and no one else would ever or could ever feel as amazing as I felt being with her. I was really praying that it would never end and that, by some miracle, we could just stay like this forever.

No such luck. Of course.

"Found them," Josh said.

I jumped. Tearing my mouth away from Molly's skin caused a jolt of pain in my throat like she was the air I was supposed to be breathing, not this Josh-tainted poison being forced on me.

Molly grabbed at the sheet, crumpled up against the wall and tugged it over her and between us. Egyptian cotton had never felt more abrasive.

Josh smirked, holding the door open. "You are in such deep—"

"Nico?" Tammy came in next, and Molly rolled out from under me, behind me.

Tammy went rigid when she saw us. Her face smoothed over, cool rage.

Gia was next. She crowded in next to Josh. Her brow peaked, but she didn't say anything.

I drew a blanket over me as I sat up. I was still in my boxers, but that's not what I was trying to cover.

Tammy's eyes were like burning coals. "We've been out combing the streets for you."

"Yeah, there's this newfangled invention, it's called a phone," Josh offered, smirk turning into a cheeky grin.

Tammy's hand flew out, in a silencing gesture. Josh winced back like he was afraid she was going to smack him.

Molly sounded small and quiet. " _We have to tell them about Samuel._ "

My own thoughts were turning dark, unhappy. " _I know._ "

"Get dressed and come downstairs so we can have a discussion," Tammy said. Without another word, she turned and left.

Josh's grin returned. He glanced over at Gia. "You're not going to freak out, are you?"

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Did you have to practice to become such a dick or were you just born that way?"

"In the genes, baby," he said.

I sighed as my skin cooled. "Josh, get the hell out of here."

"Sure... I miss all the fun," he said, slipping past Gia and leaving the three of us alone.

She turned to face us, arms crossed, gaze moving from me to Molly behind me. I braced myself for the crazy explosion.

Her arms fell to her sides. "I _so_ knew it," she said. "One of you could've said something." She looked back into the hall. "You better hurry up. I'm pretty sure Tammy is going to tear you both a new one. Especially you," she said to me.

"You're not pissed?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Really?" She chuckled, shaking her head, and then left, closing the door behind her.

Molly scooted up next to me. " _She said you were convenient._ "

" _Yeah, I'm a regular 7-11._ " I reached down and scooped up my jeans, heavy and still damp from the rain, and fished out my phone. Not quite midnight. I spun the phone over my fingertips as my mind began to work, turning back to Samuel and Ennis. It had been three hours since I'd seen Samuel. More than enough time for him to have dealt with Brennin and followed me back here.

Molly's shoulder pressed against mine, already warm and familiar. "I'd better get dressed."

I caught her arm. "What about vampires? Can you read their minds?"

Kitten eyes roved over my face, reading my thoughts, probably. My own thoughts had grown so loud that I couldn't hear hers at all.

"No," she answered. "I can't hear anything from them, not even if I try. I liked Samuel at first, because of that. It was so easy to be around him. I didn't have to try to shut him out at all. He was a perfect blank."

My thumb ran over the faded art on her arm, the softness of her skin bringing the heat back. I was deeply tempted to lock my door and let Tammy scream at me in the morning about it. All I wanted was to tumble Molly back on the bed and finish what we'd started.

"What about Ennis?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Does Gia know... about what you can do?"

"Nobody knows but you."

"You've kept it a secret...?"

She nodded. "My whole life, pretty much."

I leaned into her neck, grasping the back of it, kissing her throat, the scars there, and burying my nose in the soft hair behind her ear, her scent.

" _Molly, I don't know what's going to happen... but I_ —"

She gripped my wrist and kissed me, far too briefly. When she pulled back, she had big, sad kitten eyes.

She smiled a little. "Kitten eyes? That's not even a thing, is it?"

"You don't have to make light right now," I said. "I'm accustomed to dealing with the shittier aspects of this crap-fest known as life."

Her smile stayed but, like her eyes, turned melancholy. "I know you are, but is it okay that I wish you weren't?"

"Don't feel sorry for me. It's not like that."

"Then what's it like?"

"It's like us," I said.

"Us?"

"You could read my mind."

"Or you could tell me."

"Some things just are. Like my parents being dead and my sister being a vampire..."

"And us?"

"Yeah. They just happen. There's no explanation, no reason—"

"They just are," she finished.

I nodded.

"I can't decide if that's really bleak or really smart."

"That's the point though," I said, "it doesn't matter."

She stood up, taking the sheet with her. "What you're really saying is that there are some things we can't change, no matter what we do."

"Exactly."

"And?"

"And what?"

She bunched the sheet up around her. "So, some things just are. They happen for no reason, and you can't change them. Okay. And then what? That's the most important part, Nico. What you do after."

She leaned down and kissed the corner of my mouth and then padded out, the sheet dragging behind her like a train.
19: Sarcasm Not-At-All Diminished

Nico

**T** ammy railed at me about being selfish and irresponsible, smattering her admonishments with things like, "I'm having serious doubts about allowing you to continue in the organization" and "This is not the kind of behavior that we accept in a hunter."

But I wasn't really listening to her. The entire time, Molly was next to me on the couch and we were talking.

" _You need to tell her_ ," she said.

" _She's not interested in listening right now_."

" _I'm sure she'll be willing to listen once you tell her. She's going to be pissed that you didn't say something right away_."

" _She's going to be pissed no matter what I do. Let her vent for a few minutes_."

" _How's your chin_?"

" _Okay._ "

Gia and Josh hovered at the threshold between the kitchen and the living room. Josh was eating a sandwich, scrolling through his phone. Gia alternated between gazing up at the ceiling and peering over Josh's shoulder.

"What are you reading?" I heard her ask him.

"Monster porn," he said archly, holding up his phone for her to see better. "Swamp Creature Does Mertown, want to read?"

She edged closer. "That's not porn. Who's Cain?"

He scowled at her and slid the phone in his back pocket.

Tammy kept yelling.

" _I can't stand this_ ," Molly said, her leg jogging against mine. " _I have to say something. I know what you're thinking, but_ —"

" _Do you?"_ Fun fact about telepathy: sarcasm not-at-all diminished. " _How? You're not reading my mind, are you? Le gasp!_ "

" _Ha, ha_."

I dropped back against the couch, allowing my mind to slip back to twenty minutes before.

" _Stop that_ ," Molly said.

" _If you don't like it, get out of my head._ "

" _Now's not exactly the time to be thinking about_ that _, is it?_ "

" _Kitten, I'm going to be thinking about it every minute for the rest of my life, especially when it's not a good time. Welcome to the masculine mind,_ Mon Cheri."

" _You shouldn't perpetuate tired stereotypes. I'm sure not every guy thinks about sex all of the time."_

" _Well, you're the perfect person to test that theory, aren't you? Let me know what you find out. In the meantime_ ..."

I watched her cheeks flush pink.

"Samuel's here," she blurted out the second Tammy took a breath.

Tammy ceased her pacing. Gia stepped forward, face pale, eyes wide.

"What?" Gia whispered.

"Tell them," Molly said, turning to me.

I dragged myself upright again. "I ran into him at the skate park. He's come to get Molly."

"Shit," Gia said. "We have to get out of here. Why didn't you two say anything? You're wasting time making out when we should be—"

"Gia, please," Tammy said, holding up her hand. She turned back to me. "Tell me."

I explained what happened, skirting the part where I charged up to the guy like an idiot.

"Brennin interceded?" Tammy asked. "You're sure it was him?"

"I didn't see his face, but who else could it have been?"

Her eyes flicked away for a split second. When they came back to me, they were strangely flat.

" _What did she just think?_ " I asked Molly.

" _I don't know. I'm not reading her mind._ "

_"Why not?"_

_"I don't just_ —"

"Right," Tammy said, all her previous anger gone. "Girls, pack."

I grabbed Molly's wrist as she stood up. "I'm going too."

Tammy's gaze moved from me to Molly and back again. "I can't allow that."

"It's not your decision."

" _Nico..."_

"Molly and Gia are wanted fugitives. We're taking a huge risk aiding them. And now that we have confirmation that Samuel is hunting Molly..."

"Confirmation?" Gia cut in. "You mean you suspected he was?"

"We lost track of him after he attacked your family," Tammy said to her calmly. "We weren't certain where he was. But now that we know about the unusual quality of Molly's soul..."

"Unusual quality?" she repeated.

Josh glanced up from his phone, which he had taken out again at some point. "Yeah, little sis has the rare Rainbow Brite soul. Where have you been?"

Gia turned to Molly. "What—?"

"My soul has colors in it or something," Molly said, prying at my fingers, but I didn't let go. "That's why Samuel targeted us... me."

"Total vamp magnet," Josh added.

Gia's eyes remained owlish.

Molly's skin grew cold, her attempts to remove my hand weak. "I'm sorry, Gia. I was going to tell you. I just..."

_Didn't want you to hate me for getting Mom killed._

" _Oh, fuck that_ ," I said, standing up next to her. " _Don't blame yourself_."

Trembling kitten eyes.

" _I'll stop when you do_ ," she said.

Well, that was a kick in the—

Tammy held up both of her hands. "It is possible that Brennin took out Samuel. In which case, we might all be overreacting. Samuel's had plenty of time to track you down by now, Nico."

Gia's eyes darted from the front window to the kitchen, like she expected Samuel to come busting through the wall.

"But how can we find that out?" Gia asked.

" _I'm sorry, Nico,_ " Molly said.

" _Do me a favor and get out of my head for a few minutes so I can be pissed off at you in private._ " But in the next thought, I was shouting, " _Why would you say that_?"

" _You blame yourself for what happened to your sister, to your parents._ "

_"Josh told you that._ "

_"Well, it's true, isn't it?_ "

_"Why don't you ask Josh?_ "

Before she could respond, I heard Tammy saying my name.

When I looked away from Molly, I found Tammy, Gia, and Josh staring at me.

"Sorry," I said, rubbing my throbbing temples. "What?"

"I was saying that there might be a way for us to find out if Brennin took care of Samuel."

"And how's that?"

Tammy's face straightened in a serious and ominous manner. "Call your sister."

I stared at her, waiting for the punchline, but it didn't come.

"I don't—"

"If Samuel has been taken care of," she said, "then we have no reason for alarm. Gia and Molly can stay... until more permanent arrangements can be made."

"No," Molly said. "He doesn't need to call his sister. Just call whoever you have to and get Gia and me out of here as soon as possible."

Tammy's brow arched. "As much as I hate to say it, considering that I don't entirely approve of some of the behavior from the four of you lately—"

Josh straightened up. "What'd I do? It's not like I'm getting any action—"

Tammy continued over him. "This might be the safest place for you at the moment, Molly. It's clear your soul is going to attract any vampire you run across. And it just so happens that you're staying in the home of perhaps the only vampire in the world who has something resembling a conscience. And we have cause to believe that she and Brennin are in contact."

_They are_ , Molly thought, although I don't think she meant for me to hear; the words came through muffled as if from the next room.

Sure, I was peeved she was making assumptions about my feelings over the loss of my parents and Ennis. Not that those assumptions were wrong. But it's the kind of thing you want to share with a girl further down the road after some trust has been established, not have thrown in your face less than an hour after making out with her for the first time.

It wasn't totally her fault. She hadn't snooped around my head and found my guilt huddled in some dark corner. Josh was the one who had opened his fat mouth. I should've been pissed off at him, not her.

Except there was that other thing going on too. The thing where she was trying to bail on me. So very not cool.

I let go of Molly and took my phone out of my pocket.

She reached for my arm. "Nico, no—"

"Don't worry about it," I snapped. "I can handle my sister."

_Such lies, Nico. Such terrible, terrible lies._

But here's the thing, I didn't just need to talk to Ennis about Brennin and Samuel. I needed to clear up a couple of other things with my not-quite-gone sister.

So even though it stirred my gut into a boiling pit of acid, I pulled up the one number in my phone that I'd never actually called.

I knew Molly was afraid Ennis would come after her. I knew she would have rather just left, taking her vampire-Skittles soul with her and away from me, thinking she was doing me some kind of favor. As if I was going to be happier stuck here, allegedly safe under my sister's undead gaze, while Molly was on the run, miserable and pretending that she wasn't.

I stared at the number for a second. Long enough for Molly to whisper in my head,

" _You don't have to do this_."

I tapped the number and brought the phone to my ear.

Half a ring and the line picked up.

Silence.

But I knew she was there. Not breathing.

I wasn't breathing either.

Finally, I forced out the words, "Come to the house."

And then I hung up.
20: Safe, For the Night

Nico

**I** must've wiped my palms on my jeans a dozen times in the twenty minutes I sat on the couch, alone, waiting.

More than once I had to stand up, certain I needed to get to the nearest drain so I could puke. But then I sat back down again, leg bouncing, biting my lip, sweat snaking down my spine.

Outside, the storm had given over to a steady shower, the perfect kind of pattering rain for sleeping, but I wasn't tired. My heart was pumping so hard and fast, I might've been back in the park with Samuel.

When the knock came, it was so soft, I wasn't sure I'd heard it. I froze for a second, listening to the shushing lullaby of raindrops on the windows.

Then it came again. I jumped up, throat squeezing shut so I couldn't breathe. I swallowed hard, forcing my airway open again.

I punched in the alarm code and opened the door.

Green eyes.

Oh, shit.

I'd forgotten how green they were.

She stood on the stoop, rain sheeting down her trench coat, dripping off the hood. Her eyes were shadowed, but they were still luminescent like they had their own light source. She stood there, stone-faced, blank-eyed, still as a statue—emoting nothing.

Finally, I regained my wits enough to step back and make room for her to come in.

She moved slowly, deliberately, as if she didn't want to startle me with her twitchy fast vampire reflexes.

After she'd stepped inside, I shut the door. I caught a whiff of her vampire scent, something like expensive soap and exotic flowers, but if she was attempting to work her mojo on me, my palpitating heart proved that my immunity against it was holding.

With careful movements, she lowered her hood. Hair as red as dried blood spilled down her back. She was even more stunning than I remembered, but at the same time, not. Because the sculpted-to-perfection cheekbones, the slightly too full lips, the flawless porcelain complexion, was all the vampire, not my sister. And my sister, my living sister, _she_ had been beautiful.

Her head moved at a snail's pace as she scanned the dim living room.

I'd sent everyone upstairs, to the attic, and made them lock themselves in.

"You don't have to do that." I stepped back, my heels brushing the baseboards.

Her gaze tick, tick, ticked up to me.

"Do what?" she asked in that husky vampire voice, the voice of the seductress, the monster, the murderer.

"Move like that," I said, though my mouth was so dry I almost gagged trying to get the words out. "Slow."

She bowed her head, again with care. "I suppose you want to talk about what happened this afternoon."

"You know?"

Her eyes drilled into mine. "That you waltzed right up to that interloper and confronted him? What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," I said.

"Clearly," she said. "Where is Molly?"

I tensed. "She told me what you said."

"Did she?"

"You're not going to touch her."

Ennis leaned in fractionally. Even though I couldn't see it, I knew exactly what she was doing—smelling me. I held myself still, rigid.

Her cheeks drew in as she leaned back. "It's like that, is it?"

"Just leave her alone."

"That will be difficult," she said. "She's bringing trouble to my town and I don't need that."

"Then deal with it," I said. "After all, this is _your_ town, right?"

Her jaw flexed. "I don't need your derision." And then, for a second, her facade faltered and she almost looked like herself again, her brow troubled, her face softening, her gaze flicking off toward the shadows of the hall.

"I'll make you a deal, little brother," she said, looking at me again with unnerving intensity. "You can keep Molly. We'll protect her. But the hunters, the training, it ends. Send Tammy on her way. And you go to school and you start giving a shit again. I don't want any more calls from your teachers, no more meetings. You're going to get your grades up and you're going to college, or technical school, someplace. Start a career, have a life, get married, have a family... with Molly if that's what will make you happy. But you're going to cut off the hunters, forget about them, for good."

My fingers hurt from pressing into my palms. "Or?"

She stepped back. "We're watching the house, but if Samuel comes here and he gets in, there's only one person I'll be saving. And it won't be her."

"And I would never forgive you."

"I would never ask you to. I don't need your absolution, Nicolas. I am guilty. My continued existence is indisputable evidence of my culpability. There is no salvation for me."

Somewhere, deep inside, I was crumbling, like burning paper curling up and breaking apart, turning to ash.

"But you can still be saved, Nico." Her voice was heavy with emotion, but I couldn't tell if it was real or not. "You don't want to be a part of my world. Trust me. It's just blood and death and survival. I know what happened before was hard. And I know you wish you could go back and change things." She reached for me, but her hand stopped short, hovering. "I do too. I do too." She dropped her hand. "But we can't. So, this is your choice. Molly and life. Or the hunters and whatever comes from that... If you choose Molly, then I will do whatever I can to protect her, the both of you, but you have to keep up your end of the bargain. And if you choose to continue with what you've been doing, then I'll leave her to her fate. And you can hate me all you want, because in the end, you're going to hate me anyway. I've come to know that, even if you haven't yet, you will."

She took hold of the door handle, still moving with affected sluggishness.

"In spite of what I've become," she said, "my soul is still here and it still loves you and it will do whatever it has to do to keep you alive, to give you the chance to choose something better than... this."

She opened the door.

Tears stung my eyes, but didn't form, didn't fall.

"And what about me?" I asked, choking.

She paused halfway across the threshold. Rain misted her face as it fell just beyond the stoop.

"Will you ever forgive me?" I asked.

The unnatural hue of her eyes darkened to something closer to real, closer to alive. Was it her soul, pressing up against the lenses, peering out at me from its prison?

"I'm not the one you need forgiveness from, Nico," she said. "I'll give you until tomorrow, sunset, to make your decision." She turned her face away. "Happy Birthday."

And then she was gone.

It might seem weird that I had completely forgotten about my 18th birthday. Big milestone, right? Yeah, probably, for most people. But I'd had other things on my mind and I didn't pay much attention to the calendar. And frankly, after seeing Ennis, I wasn't feeling much like celebrating.

I don't know how much time passed before I heard footsteps on the stairs. Minutes, maybe hours.

I expected to see Molly or Tammy.

Not Gia.

She plopped down next to me.

"Where—?"

"I'm supposed to be on watch," she said. "They're asleep. But I saw her, your sister, leave."

I raked my hands through my hair. "Oh."

"I never thought I'd say this, but I loved her hair. Not that I'd want to have to become a vampire to get my hair that red, but I'll make you a deal." She stretched out, reaching into her pocket.

"I've kind of had enough bargaining for the evening, nothing personal."

She plucked a gold foil square out of her pocket and held it between her middle and forefingers where I could see it.

A condom.

I frowned. "Where'd you get—?"

"I've had it," she said. "There was this guy, Chase..." She shrugged. "Anyway..." She held it out to me.

I stared at it. "Uh... I don't..."

"Not for us, you idiot. For you and Molly," she said. "I know things are crazy around here and if what you guys are saying is true and my sister is a vampire magnet, well... carpe diem and all that. But tomorrow, assuming we're all still here, I will require"—she ticked off the items with her fingers—"hair bleach and the reddest of red hair dyes. On second thought, just get all the reds they have. I don't trust you to get the right one. Deal?"

Before I could answer, she slapped the condom into my palm.

"Go get her, tiger. I'm going to bed." She turned again abruptly. "Oh, yeah, and I guess it goes without saying that if you treat her bad or break her heart or something, I will totally kill you."

I watched her go and then sat there for another minute, turning the packet over in my fingers.

Now was _so_ not the time. And talk about rushing things... On the other hand...

I pushed off the couch and headed up to the attic.

Tammy, Josh, and Molly had pulled out the yoga mats and laid blankets over those. Josh slept hugging a bat and Tammy had her back to me. The recessed lights in the dormers were on, but dimmed low.

I crouched next to Molly and brushed her cheek with the back of my fingers.

" _Molly._ "

Her eyes flew open and she shot up. I gripped her arms before she started flailing or screaming or something.

" _It's me."_

She blinked rapidly before finally focusing on me. She touched my chest, kitten eyes big, concerned.

" _What happened? Did you see her_ —?"

I kissed her and it was just as good as it had been earlier, better even, somehow.

I broke away and took her hand, pulling her to her feet.

She glanced back at Tammy and Josh. " _What_ —"

I kissed her again. " _Later. Come with me._ "

" _But what about Samuel_ —?"

" _We'll be safe tonight_ ," I said, drawing her toward the stairs.

" _Are you sure?"_

" _Yeah_ ," I said, mood darkening. " _She's on watch_."

And even though she hadn't said as much, I knew she'd give me tonight to consider her offer. She may have been less Ennis and more vampire, but her inner lawyer was still alive and practicing.

Molly hesitated at the top of the stairs, pulling against my hand. " _Shouldn't we tell Tammy_?"

I stepped into her, hands on her waist, nose to nose, eye to eye. " _No._ "

When I pressed my lips to hers, a whole slew of images played through my mind. I wasn't sure if she could see my thoughts when they were nothing but images or if she only knew what I thought in words, but by the time we broke apart, her lips were flush and her chest was heaving and I knew she understood. Maybe it should have been weird or awkward or something, but it just... wasn't.

She took my hand and led me down the stairs.
21: The Right Decision

Molly

**I** woke to find Nico already awake and watching me.

"Stay out of my head for a while, okay?" he said.

I blinked the heaviness of sleep away. "I'll try. Why?"

He played with the ends of my hair, running his hand down my back.

I closed my eyes. The warm shudders his touch inspired made holding up the walls between us difficult. And even when I was shutting him out, his thoughts pressed against me like a swell of water against a dam.

Opening my eyes, I frowned. "This wasn't exactly what I expected to wake up to."

"Molly—"

"I don't have to read your thoughts to tell they're grim."

He ran his finger down my cheek. "Is it weird?"

"Probably. What are you talking about?"

"Us. This."

I rolled off my stomach and onto my side, facing him. I half-smiled. "Some things just are." But then I sat up, the sheet over my legs, folding my arms on my knees and sighing. "Yes, it's weird."

He sat up too. "I know."

Gray-edged light cut through the slats of the blinds, silver-gleaming after the storm, like a wet knife.

My chin dropped to my forearm. "You think we're moving too fast, or crazy or something?"

"Do you?"

I shrugged. "It doesn't feel that way."

"That's what's weird," he said.

"I know," I admitted.

My frown deepened, a tightness building in my chest as I searched his face. It was so serious. I was very tempted to read his mind, but I didn't.

"What's wrong?" My heart tripped over a beat. "You don't regret..."

"No. What? Are you kidding?" His forehead pressed against my temple. "That was the best night of my life. No matter what happens, I will never regret it."

The pressure of his mind, when his head was right against mine, was almost painful. I had to pull back to keep from intruding. Still, an ache grew behind my eyes. He'd asked me not to listen in, so I was determined to keep trying. But it was so hard.

"Then what's up?" I asked.

He took my hand, interlacing our fingers, his thumb tracing mine. "What if you could stay? Would you?"

"Of course I would."

His eyes darkened. "You were going to bail."

"I know, but—" I edged back, so I could look at him straight on and fully. "What happened with your sister?"

He took a deep breath. "She made me an offer."

I pressed my lips together, waiting. Somehow, in the haze of everything else that had happened last night, he'd managed to put his sister completely out of his mind. Which was probably a good thing, considering. But still, it was surprising. I knew how conflicted he was about his sister, how guilty he felt for what had happened to her, how much he missed her. So, seeing her last night probably should've been right up front in his head. Yet, it hadn't been. The only thing he'd been thinking about was us... me. And it had been great, like other-worldly, stupidly, incredibly perfect. So why was I trying to put it out of _my_ mind?

He let go of my hand. "I need to think about it."

"What kind of offer—?"

"Later." He pushed off the bed and stood. "I'll tell you later... I have to figure some things out." He glanced back at me. "But you _would_ stay if you could, right?"

I leaned back against the wall, fighting tears. This was why I had to put last night out of my mind because I knew what I had to do—the right thing. I couldn't lie about it, not to him and not to myself.

"There's no way, Nico," I said. "You know? It doesn't matter what I want."

His eyes dropped to the rumpled sheets between us, seemingly lost in thought. "She'd make it work if..."

I scooted closer to the edge of the bed. "Don't do anything crazy," I said. "Not for me. Not for..."

"Everything I do seems crazy," he said. "Rational options pretty much disappeared once vampires entered the picture." His knelt, taking my hand. "If you read my thoughts right now, what do you think you'd hear?"

I sagged, eyes stinging, heart-wrenching. "This isn't... I know this going to sound harsh. Especially after... but I don't believe in fairy tales. Happily ever after..." A tear burned down my cheek. "It only happens in stories. Ones _without_ real vampires."

"So... what? You're just giving up?"

"Gia and I have to leave."

"What if you don't have to?"

"I don't want you to risk what you have for me."

"What do I have?" he asked.

"A life. An almost-normal life." I squeezed his hand. "Trust me, it may not seem like much, but it's everything."

"You sound like her."

It took me a second. "Your sister?"

He didn't move, just knelt there, gripping my hand, looking at me like he was trying to read my thoughts. But he wasn't getting through and I kept my word to keep him out, as much as it was giving me a raging headache. Or maybe it was this conversation. Maybe it was having to ruin everything, like waking up from a wonderful dream.

"Well, Ennis would know, wouldn't she?" I said. "I guess we have that in common. Neither of us has any hope of living a normal life again, do we?"

"You might," he said. "Is that what you want?"

"It's the only thing I've wanted, but I can't live in a fantasy world," I said. "Please try to understand. I'm not being mean or pessimistic. But I do have to be realistic. The police are after me and no matter where I go, a vampire could find me. I won't ever be safe. I have to deal with the fact that I'll always be on the run. And as much as I don't want that for myself, there is no way in hell you are going to convince me to let you come along. It's not going to happen."

"You think I'd be happier without you?"

"I don't care what you think," I said. "I'm not asking. It's not an option. If you really care about me, you will let me go and live your life. Don't take it for granted, Nico. This bed, these walls, school, friends... I know what you're thinking. I know why. And I wish it were different. But it isn't. I will hate myself if I let you give up home and school and everything for me. You don't know how much. And..." More tears spilled over. "My soul is what got my mom killed. And my stepdad. It's because Gia was protecting me that she's wanted by the freakin' FBI. If something happened to you, if you died because of me..." I shook my head, wiping the tears away. "I couldn't deal with that. It's already too much. I know what happened before, my mom's death, it's not _really_ my fault, I didn't do anything wrong. But if I let you come with me and something happens to you, that _would_ be on me. And honestly, I don't think I could survive it. I wouldn't want to. Please, don't ask me to."

He let go of my hand and slid onto the bed again, wrapping his arms around me, kissing my hair, my tear-damp cheeks, my neck.

"Let's just be happy we found each other at all," I said. "I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner, that I was hiding from it, from you, but... at least we had some time, a little. That has to be good enough."

For a second, his thoughts whispered through my head, like a draft that had worked its way under the door.

_I guess she's going to get what she wants._

And as much as it killed me, more than anything, I was relieved.

It would've been so easy to fall into the trap of thinking that being together was the answer to all our problems. I didn't want to leave him. I'd only just found him. And I hated myself for avoiding him all this time. So dumb. Such a waste.

But I also meant everything I'd said.

Somehow, I'd fallen in love with him, like in a fairy tale. All of a sudden, as if it had always been.

But life wasn't a fairy tale. Not my life.

I'd wanted something normal. I'd planned on ditching my sister. I'd blamed her for bringing Samuel into our lives. But it had been me, all along. Maybe it should've been obvious, but I wasn't one of those people who went around thinking I was so special, even if I could read people's minds. Really, that only made me realize I wasn't special at all. Everybody suffers, everybody struggles, everybody has to deal with shit they just can't change—things that just are.

And this was how we were going to deal with ours. Me and Nico.

The most important part.

He was going to live his life and I was going to find a way to survive.

I didn't have any doubt that it was the right decision, as awful as it felt.

He kissed me again, on the lips, and then stood up, silent, stone-faced, leaving me on the bed, wiping my tears with his sheets. He dressed and it was sort of surreal. A broken heart makes you feel slightly out of sync with the world, outside of it. Maybe how a vampire feels, watching her victims go through their everyday routines.

"I owe your sister some hair dye," he said, once he was dressed. "Do you need anything?"

I shook my head.

"Try to get some more sleep." He opened the door. "I'll be back soon."

The door closed behind him. I listened to his footsteps fade away on the stairs.

And then I wept my eyes dry, bleeding out every last one. I wasn't going to be taking my tears with me.

Sometime later, I found Tammy at the desk in the corner of the living room, phone between her ear and shoulder, laptop open. She glanced up at me.

"Hold on a minute," she said to whoever was on the phone. She laid it down on her lap. "Did you have a good evening, Molly?"

"When can we leave?" I asked, voice still raw.

I was sure I looked like hell. My eyes ached as if they'd been pierced with hot needles.

"What happened with Nico and his sister?" she asked. "Do you know?"

"What happens if the cops find us here?" I asked. "To you and Josh, to Nico?"

She gazed at me coolly. She had a poker face to beat all, that was for sure. "The police should be the least of your worries."

"How long will it take for you to make the arrangements?"

"I'm on the phone now," she said. "We're discussing the possibility of taking you south, across the border."

"When can we leave?"

She studied me for a moment. "I can't allow Nico to—"

"Nico's not coming," I said. "But the longer Gia and I stay, the more likely it is that Samuel will find us, right?" My hands fisted. "I don't want _him_ coming here."

Her fingers drummed the desk. And then she lifted the phone to her ear again. "I'll call you back." She set the phone down. "How do you feel about taking a walk, Molly? You haven't showered yet today, have you?"

I shook my head.

"Good," she said. "Don't. Get your shoes and your hoodie."
22: Once In A Lifetime

Nico

**I** shoved Josh, slamming him up against the living room wall, rattling the generic wall art.

"What the hell do you mean?" I demanded.

"Prozac time, friend." He held up his hands. "She's fine. She's with Moms. It's cool."

"It's not cool. Where did they go?"

He smoothed out his shirt. "You know, around."

"If you don't tell me what's going on, I am going to beat the shit out of you."

"With the violence? Really? Bros before—"

My forearm smashed into his throat, pinning him to the wall. "Where?"

His eyes hardened. "I don't know."

I pushed off of him, stalking away and then back again. He watched me darkly, rubbing his reddened neck.

"The sister's still here, isn't she?" he said. "They'll be back. It's full-on daylight out there. Moms probably just took her to get new panties or some bullshit. CTFD."

Rubbing my eyes, I dropped onto the couch. "You're right, sorry."

He rested his arms on the back of the recliner. "What did that girl do to you? One minute you're groping her sister, and the next, you're losing your nut because she took a walk?"

I slouched back. "They walked?"

"Yeah..."

"She's laying a trail," I thought aloud. I eyed Josh. "What's the plan?"

"Fuck if I know. Moms seems to think I'm not quite as trustworthy as I once was." He came around and fell into the chair. "You're a bad influence." He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, frowning thoughtfully for a minute. "Yeah, a false trail. That could be."

"To where?"

"Ambush?"

"Where though?"

He shrugged.

"Tammy can't expect to take Samuel on by herself."

"No way," he said, chewing on his thumbnail.

"So? Who else is there?"

His gaze flicked up to me and away, too quickly.

"What?" I asked, sitting forward. I shoved his feet off the table. "Tell me."

"Maybe..." He sighed. "It's not our style. Ambush. You know that, taking out a vamp. Subtle, close, quiet, that's how we work."

"So...?"

"So, we're pretty much it, _amigo_. Ever since the Minister took her show on the road. Resources were reallocated, you know what I mean? Ennis became the big bad in town... Not so much action around here anymore."

My leg jogged. The last thing I'd expected was for Tammy to take Molly out of the house. Gia was upstairs with the hair stuff I'd bought her. I still hadn't figured out what we were going to do about her, or how we were going to get Molly off the hook with the cops. But I felt pretty certain that Ennis could handle it, somehow. Ennis seemed able to handle just about...

My leg stopped bouncing.

"Ennis," I said.

"What about her?"

"That's where," I said. "Ambush. Who else in town would be able to deal with Samuel?"

Josh sank back, face blank, but I knew better.

"I'm right, aren't I?" I pressed.

"Might be," he said.

"But for that to work, Tammy would need to know where she is," I said. "Does she?"

His head dropped back. "Man... what if she does? Huh? What are you going to do?"

"She can't lead Samuel to Ennis without any warning," I said.

"I doubt anybody would be able to sneak up on your sister," he said.

"We don't know that and—"

"It'll be fine. Let your sister take out that mofo. Isn't that what you want? Your girl all safe and sound? Well... this seems like as good a plan as any. Besides, three against one is pretty good odds—"

I frowned. "Three?"

His face blanked out. "I meant two." He shoved out of the chair and made for the stairs, but I leapt up and cut him off.

"You said—"

"We think that Ennis has Brennin on the leash," he cut in. "So, it'll be a pretty good bet that she won't be alone."

"Where?" I asked.

"You're not going there, man. Let Moms take care of this. You'll get your girl back, which is good because she's obviously got your—"

"Watch it," I cut in.

"Call your sister," he said, "if you want, give her the heads up. I don't think she'll need it. I'm pretty sure she's got a handle on just about everything that goes down in this town, but you do what you have to do. Oh, yeah..."

He turned around and stalked into the kitchen.

When he came back, he shoved a gift box with a big cookie inside—a frosted 18 on it—against my chest.

"Happy fucking birthday, you twat." He pounded up the steps.

I stared down through the plastic at the cookie. Peanut butter, chocolate chip.

"Thanks for not eating it!" I called over my shoulder.

"Fuck you!" he called back, but we were cool. I didn't worry about Josh.

I did worry about Tammy using Molly as bait. And what would happen to Ennis when Samuel showed up on her doorstep.

I went to the kitchen table, setting down the cookie and getting out my phone. Josh was probably right. Ennis would be able to deal with Samuel, especially if she had Brennin to help her out.

But I had to call Ennis anyway and tell her that I'd made my decision.

And I had. Really, it hadn't been much of a struggle.

I guess some part of me had been hoping Molly would want to see some dead vampires as much as I did. Then I wouldn't have to give up my plans to be a hunter and I could have her too. Hunters didn't exactly live stable lifestyles. Josh had told me that he and Tammy had moved almost every year at first until the Minister had set up shop here and Tammy had been sent to infiltrate the Ministry.

But Molly wasn't like Gia in that way.

So... school, college, 9-5. Not only had none of that stuff appealed to me for the last couple of years, but it hadn't even seemed possible—not knowing what I knew, not after what I'd been through.

Except Molly had seen it all and lived it all too and, somehow, she still wanted it.

And I wanted her.

I knew how it would seem, to Josh, to Tammy. Me blowing off everything for a girl I'd just met. But it was like the mind reading. If I stopped and thought about it, yeah, it was crazy. Rational Guy had a whole list of reasons why it made no sense to up-end my life just for the chance to be with her.

But I'd meant what I'd said to her, about how some things just are. And I knew what was happening between us... it was a once in a lifetime kind of thing. I was never going to meet another girl like her. I was never going to have another chance. This was it. I wasn't going to miss out.

So, Ennis was going to get what she wanted. Put a stake in vampire-hunter Nico, resurrect regular-guy Nico.

I spun my phone on the table, eyes darting between the clock on the screen and the back door. It had only been an hour and a half since I'd left. It irked me that Tammy had hustled Molly out in that brief time.

I flipped open the box and pulled a hunk off the cookie. Sugary, nutty aromas plied me and brought a lump to my throat. I dropped the cookie and pushed the box away. It wouldn't taste right anyway. They never did.

All my birthday plans to hole up in my room with Molly were swiftly draining away. I had a feeling this whole laying-a-trail business was going to take a long time.

Finally, I picked up the phone and pulled up the number. And I kind of hoped it would be the last time.

Again, half a ring. Again, silence.

"Okay," I said to the phantom on the other end. "I'll take your deal."

"I'm glad to hear that," she said.

"But the cops—"

"I'll take care of it," she said.

The knots in my chest began to loosen. "Tammy's laying a false trail, with Molly," I said. "I think they're leading Samuel to you."

A beat of silence.

"I see."

"Will you—?"

"Are you worried for me, Nico?"

My hand tightened around the phone, pressing hard against my ear. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

"I will," she said. "Especially now that I know you've made the right decision. I'll take care of Samuel and the police. I'll make sure that you, and Molly, have a fresh start."

I almost thanked her, but biting my lip, I stopped myself.

"I just need one more thing from you," she said.

"What?"

"The moment Molly returns to you, _that_ is the moment our bargain goes into effect. You are no longer involved. Agreed?"

"Fine," I said.

"Good. Remember, little brother, her life depends on you keeping your word."

Sweat broke out across my back. "Are you threatening her?"

"No, Nico. But she is so... vulnerable, isn't she? If you want me to help you protect her, you're going to have to help me. Keep yourself out of trouble. Just because you're done, doesn't mean your friends are. The hunters, they'll try to bring you back in. No matter what happens, just remember Molly."

"I'll deal with Tammy and Josh," I said through my teeth. "They'll understand."

"Tammy... the hunter, yes. Maybe she will. Maybe she won't. Whatever the case, it's not your problem anymore, is it?"

My ears started to ring from clenching my jaw so tight. "No, it's not."

"I'm glad you're starting your adult life by making such a responsible decision. And... I hope you and Molly will be very happy. I'll do whatever I can to see that it's possible, I promise."

Before I had a chance to bite back any other words, of gratitude or otherwise, she hung up.
23: The Bonus

Ennis

**I** hung up and swiveled my chair toward Rafe, who was dressing on the other side of the dark, basement room.

"I think it's an excellent idea," he said. "Two birds, one stone, as they say. Mary gets both the females she wants. And we're one less hunter in the world."

"Are you a mind reader?" I asked, sliding my phone onto the desk.

"It's the obvious solution. If the hunter's planning on paying us a visit, we might as well remove her from the picture while we have the opportunity..."

I frowned. "I didn't realize she knew where we were."

"She may not." He wrapped black athletic tape around his forearm. "If not, we'll proceed as planned. If she does... well then." He ripped the tape with his teeth.

"It will be tricky to keep Molly out of it."

"The hunter will be tailing her," Rafe said. "She won't want Samuel to pick up any other scents but Molly's. I'll find a way to pick the hunter off without the girl seeing. Or I'll find a way to distract her if I need to."

"I'll need you to take care of all of it," I said. "I can't have Brennin involved. That girl's done something to him. He's getting as obsessed with her as Samuel. I was tempted to send him out of town again."

Rafe glanced at me from the tops of his eyes as he started to wrap his other arm. "I can put him down if you want."

"I'd rather not if we don't have to. We'll wait and see."

"This girl must be quite something."

The hypnotic memory of those dazzling colors rose before me, fluttering like the beaded scarves of a seductive dancer—the colors of a siren. I shook the image away.

"The hunter will want to be here and gone before nightfall," he said. "Maybe I should wait for her. I wouldn't want to miss our chance to get her off our backs once and for all."

"No," I said. "The sister is the priority. I promised Nico I'd clear the decks for him and the girl. The sister is the bigger liability. Getting Molly out of this legal mess is going to take time and maneuvering. Her sister has to go. The huntress is just the bonus. If we can't remove her now, we'll take care of her later."

He tore the tape again and tossed it onto the bed.

"Nico can't see you," I reminded him.

"Of course not, love."

"Don't hurt him if... something happens."

"Not permanently," he said softly. "But as you said, the sister's the priority. It's all for little brother's benefit in the end, isn't it? It's what he wanted."

"It's too bad there's not some way to draw her out." I leaned back in my chair, frowning. "At least Molly and Tammy are out of the house. That should make it easier for you to slip in unnoticed, I hope."

"Nico will never know I'm there." He pulled on his gloves. "What about Samuel? Shall I dispose of him?"

"Not yet," I said. "If something happens and Nico doesn't come through, I might need him."

He shrugged on a long black coat over his armored vest. "Don't worry. I'm sure our Nicolas won't require any tough love."

I tapped my computer, bringing up the surveillance feeds. Upstairs, Samuel huddled in his cage. Brennin moped in a dark corner. Outside, an empty alley. A delivery truck trundled by on the adjacent street.

No sign of the huntress or Molly—yet.

"I hope not."
24: Beautiful in the Worst Way

Molly

**I** f the last three weeks under Tammy's yoke had improved my stamina at all, I wasn't feeling it.

A day of trudging from the bus depot to the train station to the airport, taking only buses or walking, left my feet aching, my shoulders sagging, and my head pounding. Holding a city's worth of thoughts at bay for hours hadn't helped either.

Tammy, trailing me in her SUV, instructing me via text message, had me skulking through a truly creepy part of town, especially on a late Saturday afternoon, when the shadows were stronger than the fading gold streams of sunlight and there was hardly a car or a person in sight.

For most the day, I'd just wanted to get away from people, but now that the constant pressure in my head was letting up, I found the silence worse in some ways.

The burner in my hand buzzed. I glanced down.

_Up one more. Green roof. Go to the door. Wait._

_R we almost done?_ I texted back.

No response.

I shot her an annoyed look over my shoulder. But she was too far back, probably, to see it. Even though we'd only texted since we'd left the house and she'd stayed far from me all day, she was concealed behind huge glasses and a silly blond wig with chunky bangs. She'd even swapped out her license plates before we'd left.

Dragging myself up to the chain-link fence, I peered across a cracked and weed-patched parking lot toward a rust-stained warehouse. Beyond it, a train yard. Spray-paint tagged freight cars sat silently under the threadbare fan of sunset.

I closed my eyes and let my walls fall. Nothing. Even Tammy was too far for me to hear.

The gates to the parking lot sat open. As I walked past the fence, the sea of empty concrete swallowed me, the rounded roof of the warehouse rising like the humped back of a black-eyed leviathan.

Striding into its shadow, I stopped at the door.

"Touch the door."

I jumped and spun. Tammy had pulled up behind me and rolled down the passenger-side window. I hadn't even heard her. I was so lost in my bleary thoughts, my still-aching heart.

Yes, I was sure I'd made the right decision about Nico, but it still sucked. It still hurt. It was still tearing me up inside. I mean, how often do people ever just click the way we had? I'd had zero reservations about sleeping with him. Not that he was my first, but I wasn't a convenience-shopper like Gia.

I knew that what was going on between us was something I'd probably never experience again. And giving it up...

Well, regardless of how it made me feel—something akin to inviting Samuel over for dinner and putting myself on the table—I knew I was right to leave him.

I'd been on the run for the last year. I knew how hard it was, how exhausting, how... soul-killing. And I would've given almost anything to stop running. Nico had no idea what it felt like. I didn't want him to know. I wanted to know he was safe at home, with his sister protecting him—weird as it was.

I turned back to the door. I ran my hand over the dusty door handle. "Is that good enough?" I asked as I turned.

The SUV peeled out. I flattened against the door as it sped away.

"What the—?"

I checked my phone.

No messages.

I texted her.

Nothing.

For a few minutes, I just stood there, waiting.

Then a message came.

_A cab is on its way. Once you get home. Do not leave, no matter what._

I heaved a sigh and trudged back to the fence. I leaned on the chain link, bouncing against it anxiously as the light grew wispy until finally, a cab appeared.

The driver leaned across the passenger seat, pulling his sunglasses down to look at me.

"Molly?" he asked.

I nodded and pulled open the back door.

"What you doing out here, girl?" He started the meter and then pulled away from the curb.

The vinyl seats creaked under me and had a slightly damp mustiness, but it felt great to finally be sitting.

"Good question," I said, sinking into the seats.

He tutted under his breath and then cranked up his music, every so often breaking out in accompaniment with the throaty female singer. I didn't know the song, that's how out of it I'd become this last year, but it was one of those soulful heartbreaking ones about love lost, and if I'd been putting together the score for my movie, for this scene, I wouldn't have been able to pick a better song.

Sometimes life sucks so perfectly; it's almost beautiful—in the worst way.

Like a vampire.

I raised my fist to knock on the front door, ignoring the glowing doorbell, but the door swung open before my knuckles touched the panel. Nico crushed the breath out of me, lifting me off my feet.

"Holy shit," he said. "Where have you been? It's almost dark."

I sagged out of his embrace. "I need some money to pay the cabbie."

He frowned at the yellow car. Its TAXI light glowed softly against the purple swells of twilight.

"Where's Tammy?" he asked.

"She's not back?"

He dug out his wallet, pinning me with a stern look. "Stay here."

He strode down the walk to pay the fare, and I slunk into the living room and collapsed onto the couch.

Josh didn't look away from his video game—a one-person shooter that was all darkness punctuated by loud bursts of flashing light.

"Help yourself," he said of the pizza boxes on the coffee table, gesturing to them with his elbow. "Nico ordered that crap you both like. But since it's his birthday, I'm not complaining... as much."

I sat up. "It's his birthday?"

"Yeah, the big 1-8. Where you been, lover girl?"

I grabbed a slice out of the box, devouring it before Nico had returned.

He came back in and frowned at the alarm for a second before punching in the code. "That's weird," he muttered.

I finished off a half-drunk bottle of Gatorade. I didn't know who it belonged to and I didn't care.

He dropped onto the couch next to me, emanating tension.

"You're cutting it really close."

I swallowed. "Don't blame me. Tammy was the one who had me walk the whole freakin' city."

"Where is Moms?" Josh asked.

"I don't know," I said, taking another slice. "She cut out really quick. Sent me back in a cab." I looked over at Nico. "It's your birthday?"

He sighed, running his hands over his face. "Yup."

"Why didn't you say something?"

He met my eye. "It doesn't really matter."

"Yes, it does. Don't say that. Of course, it matters."

But already the concrete blocks of resignation were dragging me down. I ate, putting up my barriers again. I didn't want him to know just how soon I'd be gone. I knew I needed to tell him, but...

"Well, I'm sure Nico's too much of a gentleman to say it," Josh piped up, "but if you want to give him a birthday present, then—"

Nico flung a pillow at him. "Shut up."

Josh ducked the pillow and came up grinning.

"Just trying to help you out, bro."

"I don't need your help."

"Nah, I guess not." Josh paused the game so he could flip open the other pizza box. He frowned. There were only two slices left. "You think Gia's gonna come down or what?"

"Where is Gia?" I asked.

"Gia!" Josh shouted. "Get your ass down here if you want any of this pizza!"

Nico was frowning. He glanced over at the front door and then back toward the middle distance. "Gia doesn't know the alarm code, does she?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Gia!" Josh shouted again. "You're about to lose your slice! Countdown has begun! Five... four..."

"If she's in the attic, she's not going to be able to hear you," I said.

Josh gave me a slantwise look. "Three... two..."

Nico pulled out his phone, tapping a couple of codes in, pulling up the security app for the house.

"Two and a half... two and three and quarters..." Josh gave me a shrug. "One."

He snagged another slice and crammed it into his mouth.

"Real nice," I said.

He swallowed the first half of the slice. "She got a half and a three-quarters. Due diligence was given."

"Did you go out of the house this afternoon?" Nico asked Josh.

"No." Josh gestured at the screen. "I finally unlocked the survival maps, man."

Nico pushed off the couch and headed to the stairs. "Gia?" He stopped, waiting, and then turned back to Josh. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"When she came down with all the crazy-ass red hair. Like she suffered a freakin' head wound."

"What time?"

Josh shrugged. "I don't know. Ah... two, three maybe?"

Nico charged up the stairs. I surged up after him, stomach churning my recently consumed pizza.

"What is it?" My fatigue abated. I caught up with him as he was going down the hall, pushing open all the doors.

"Gia?" he called. "Gia!"

He opened the master and then went to the bathroom, flicking on the lights. I trailed him.

My heart stopped. I paused by the empty laundry basket on the bed, where our stuff had been waiting to be folded. I turned, searching. Her duffle was missing.

"All our clothes are gone," I said.

Nico's thoughts started to filter in as my focus was lost.

" _Fucking A_ —"

I rushed out of the room, exhaustion forgotten as adrenaline pulsed through me. Pounding up the stairs, I called, "Gia?"

At the top of the stairs, I switched on the lights. Nothing.

Nico was right behind me.

" _She left_ ," he thought.

" _No_."

" _Her stuff is gone. Her bag."_

" _She wouldn't leave without me."_ I pushed by him and back down the stairs to the master, picking up the laundry basket.

Nico and Josh crowded into the doorway.

"Do we have an escapee?" Josh asked, stuffing another slice into his mouth.

I held up the laundry basket. "Where's my stuff?"

Nico's brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"These weren't just her clothes. They were mine too. She wouldn't have taken them. Why would she?"

They both just stared at me. Nico's mind was blank.

"She didn't!" I shook the basket at them. "She wouldn't leave. Not without telling me, not without—"

"Maybe she was pissed that you got it on with Casanova over here," Josh suggested.

Nico's frowned deepened. "No. She wasn't."

_She gave me the condom_ , he was thinking.

Before I could deal with that, Nico said, "Call your mom."

Josh wiped his greasy hand on his jeans and took out his phone. He held the phone to his ear for a minute and then took it away. "Voicemail."

"Send her the emergency message."

Josh lofted an eyebrow. "Is this really an emergency?"

"My sister is missing," I said.

"And she was hot and all, but I'm not really sensing the problem here."

I lifted the basket at him threateningly.

"I'm just saying,"—he held up his hands—"your sister is really the one wanted by the cops. You're wanted for questioning, but she's the one who's been brought up on charges, she's the one they have evidence against. Maybe big sis decided that since the two of you seem so...well, you know... She'd take the opportunity to give you a free pass. Get it? She skates and you come forward and, say... Oh, I don't know, that she and her psycho boyfriend killed your parents and forced you to come with them. Something like that." He shrugged, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb. "Molly gets to live a normal life—"

Nico's hand clamped down on Josh's shoulder. "Are there cameras?"

"Huh?"

"Your mom, does she have cameras on this place?"

Josh sighed. "She's just watching out for you. It's not—"

"Can you get into the feed?" he asked. "Let's just see."

"I can get in." I shoved by them and raced down the stairs to where Tammy had left her laptop on the desk.

I flipped it open.

"Wait, wait, wait." Josh crowded me. "Hold your horses, hacker-girl. I got the password."

He opened the home screen.

Nico was standing stone-faced behind us. His thoughts were a whirlwind, or maybe it was my head that was spinning.

" _What are you thinking_?" I asked because it seemed easier when we directed our thoughts rather than just trying to pick through the melee.

" _I don't know... Ennis..._ "

_"What about Ennis?_ "

Suddenly a barrage of information slammed into me.

His conversation with his sister the night before. The offer she'd made him. The decision he'd made this morning—while I'd thought we were saying goodbye, he'd been planning to keep me here. And his phone call to his sister that morning...

"I'll take care of it," Ennis had told him. "The police..."

"Oh fuck." My hand went to my forehead, tears bulging into my eyes. "Josh was right. Except it wasn't my sister's plan, it was _your_ sister's."

Nico grasped my arms. "We don't know that—"

"Uh... I think we do." Josh stepped back from the computer, taking out his phone as Nico and I watched.

A camera must have been mounted to the house, outside one of the second-story windows. The frame covered the entire backyard and a part of the alley beyond the fence. No color, but the picture was crisp.

Gia stepped out from under the porch roof. And then, a moment later, another figure, dressed in black, wearing a motorcycle helmet, carrying Gia's duffle bag over his shoulder. Gia waited for him and then followed him out to the alley. A moment later, a motorcycle tore out.

"She just went with him," I breathed, heart convulsing in panic.

"Vamp mojo," Josh said grimly, putting on that ultra-serious face I'd seen once before. "Whoever that was must have it in spades." His gaze flicked to Nico. "Slipped right by us."

"Brennin," Nico said darkly. He spun around kicking the couch and swearing. "I'm supposed to be immune to that shit."

"You were too busy pacing and checking your phone every five seconds," Josh grumbled. "You weren't paying attention. Neither was I. He walked right in, tranced Gia, tried to make it look like she'd packed her shit and taken off, and then waltzed right out again. He had the codes to get in."

Nico bowed over the back of the couch. "Ennis..."

"Bad news keeps coming," Josh said. "Moms ain't responding." He turned his gaze to me. "Tell me exactly what happened. Where she took you. When you last saw her."

"We don't have time for this," Nico said. "Ennis is going to kill Gia."

"So we can have a normal life," I said, my tears though were burned away by my fury. "That's why Ennis told you that the moment I came back, you were out. If you go after Gia, she'll come after me."

Nico shook his head. "No—"

Josh stepped between us. "Where did my mom take you?"

"To a warehouse. That was the last place. She pulled up behind me, but then she just took off without saying—"

"Ennis," Josh snarled. He turned back to Nico, stabbing his fingers into Nico's chest. "You still got that car?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Go get it. Now."

"What the hell are we going to do?"

"We're going to get my mom," Josh stated.

"You think Ennis took your mom?" Nico asked. "Maybe she's just—"

Josh shot him a deadly look. "She's not answering, man. And the last place she was seen was at your sister's."

"Still—"

"Ennis wants you to cut out on the hunters, right?" Josh growled. "Is that the deal? Seems like the best way to take care of that would be to take out the hunter who's training you."

Nico blanched.

"And if my mom's dead or she's turned. I'm going to blow that fucking place off the map." Josh swept up a skateboard from the ground and slammed it against Nico's chest. "Go get the damned car."

Nico looked from Josh to me. "If I get involved... she'll kill you."

My throat tightened, my hands fisted, palms sweating. "Go get the car."

He blinked and then nodded. "The keys are upstairs."

"Meet us at the apartment," Josh told him.

Nico hesitated. "She can't leave—"

"Man, no one is safe. You get that? Nowhere."

"Then she'll come with me."

"Fuck you," Josh spat. "I need the extra hands. You get the car. Meet us at the apartment."

He hooked my arm and dragged me to the back door. He snatched up another skateboard and then pushed me out the door ahead of him. He kicked away the recycling bin, sending bottles rattling and rolling over the wood and yanked out the BMX.

"I hope you know how to ride a bike," he said.

I took hold of the handles.

"They have my sister too," I reminded him.

His jaw flexed. "Okay then. Move out."
25: Farm Fresh

Molly

**I** had no idea someone could ride so fast on a skateboard, but Josh was flying across the pavement, heedless of traffic. More than once I almost lost sight of him as I stopped for cars that had slammed on their brakes to avoid him. Lucky me, I got all the cursing while he sped on, not even glancing back.

He led us straight into the heart of the city.

Light rippled like water down glass-paneled towers. Security cameras seemed to be mounted at every corner, at every doorway. If my heart hadn't already been pounding from pedaling at top speed, the amount of sudden exposure would've set me on edge. Bad enough that I'd been strolling through every transportation hub in town all day. I could only hope the city's security guards didn't spend their idle hours studying Most Wanted Lists.

Josh darted into a narrow alley behind one of the high-rises.

I cut quickly, almost wiping out. It had been a long time since I'd ridden a bike. At the end of the alley, I hung over the handlebars, gasping.

"Don't puke." His sweat-sheeted face was coldly illuminated by his phone's screen.

Behind him, big trash bins were lined up, filling the warm damp air with the bouquet of sour rot. Not helping to keep my dinner down.

I dismounted the bike, my legs jelly, and I pushed deeper into the darkness, stopping in front of a big steel service door. I glanced up. Another camera. I ducked my head.

"Don't worry about it." His thumb moved rapidly over his phone. "Cameras are about to go out. The data files are going to be mysteriously corrupted. Right... about... now."

The back door buzzed softly and clicked open.

He yanked open the door and led me into a brightly lit back hall-tile floors, concrete walls, a big set of steel elevator doors. I blinked against the brightness of bone-white fluorescents. He slammed his hand against the elevator button.

"That's pretty cool," I said through gulping breaths. "How'd you—?"

"I'm at DEFCON 1 here, chica," he said, tapping rapidly into his phone.

"I don't know what that—"

"It means I don't give a shit about you or your sister or even my asshole friend, Nico." He surged into the elevator, pushing the button before I'd managed to dump the bike and jump in next to him.

"Real nice," I said as the doors closed behind me. The elevator was huge, made for deliveries and moving. It stank like cold steel and oil.

He glanced up from his phone. Eyes steady and hard. "You lost your mom, right?"

My teeth clenched.

"I'm not about losing mine too." His phone buzzed. He looked down, tapping rapidly again.

"Who are you texting?"

"People."

I swiped my sweaty hair off my forehead. "Don't you think Gia and your mom are already dead?"

His eyes rolled up to me again. "Ordinarily, yeah, I would."

The doors slid open, another small concrete hallway. He tugged open a metal door and led us out into a posh, modern corridor—glossy concrete floors, white walls, recessed lights. I hurried after him to one of the wide steel doors, this one more sleek and modern than the industrial one we'd come through moments before.

"Lucky for us," he was saying as he pressed his thumb to the pad by the door, "Ennis isn't an ordinary vampire."

"What do you mean?" I followed him into a spare, white-walled condo with a glass bank of windows overlooking the cityscape.

I didn't have time to enjoy the view. I was rushing after Josh, who was banging up a skeletal set of stairs.

"She's a soul-bleacher, remember?" He led me into a big bedroom with more amazing views and a king-sized bed, bedspread white with a single red poppy blooming across it, like a pool of blood.

"Yeah, so?" I asked.

He flung open the accordion-style closet doors, shoving neatly hung clothes aside.

"So, Moms was going over some of those missing-person cases you found," he said, voice muffled as he pushed into the depths of the closet. "Turns out one of the dudes wasn't so missing anymore. John Olsen? His body turned up last week."

A bang and a grunt later, he backed out, dragging a huge black trunk.

"It did?" I asked, coughing. My throat was parched.

He spun the combination into the lock and heaved open the lid.

I backed up. "Holy..."

He heaved out a huge gun. Not like the sleek shotguns my stepdad, Dave, had collected, or even his utilitarian, though still menacing, sidearm, but a bulky military looking bit of machinery that could've come straight out of the video game he'd been playing earlier.

"Yup." He carried the gun over to the bed and laid it down, it made a deep dent in the pillowy comforter. He charged back into the closet.

"But here's the thing," he continued, coming out with a backpack and a long black bag, which he plunked onto the bed next to the gun—if something that looks like it could take out a small town with one shot can be called a gun.

"John Olsen wasn't long dead. Real recent actually. And _way_ outside of the state. In fact, his body washed up in a river in another city, where the vamp in charge is pretty well known and not to be fucked with."

While he was talking, he performed this strange dizzying dance of pulling more guns and boxes of ammo from the trunk, checking chambers, loading up the bags.

"The hunters in that town sent Moms photos of a couple of new vamps they'd spotted having a little parley with their local Chief Bloodsucker. Guess who the newbies were?"

"Ennis?"

"You got it," he said. "And her lapdog. They showed up with a big crate one night. A week later, John Olsen washes up in a river. Eight hundred miles from where he disappeared."

I still hadn't caught my breath when he held up a handgun. "You know how to use this?"

My eyes skipped over the gun. "Glock?"

His eyebrows rose. "No shit, huh?"

"My stepdad used to take us to the firing range with him," I said. "Family bonding."

He let out a hard laugh and held the gun out to me. "It won't kill them, but it could slow them down long enough for you to get your sister and get the hell out."

I took the gun. It was light, as far as guns go, a smaller model even than the one Dave had given me at the range, but at the same time, it dragged on my arm.

I couldn't believe this was happening.

"It's loaded," he said. "So, here's Mom's theory," he went on, zipping up the bags. "Ennis is a soul-bleacher and she used to be a lawyer, you know, a real bleeding-heart, do-gooder type."

He shoved the backpack into my arms, shouldering the bigger bag and then leading me back downstairs. The town-destroyer in one hand, phone in the other, he texted as he spoke.

"So, vamps need their dinner to be as clean as possible, right? Ennis can make that happen. And she can do it to anybody, creeps like John Olsen. It all works out. Vamps need white souls. Ennis still wants to punish the bad guys. She sends out her dogs to pick them up, bring them back, she holds them long enough to get their souls nice and sparkly white. She doesn't have to spend her time stalking the Joneses and she gets to pretend that she's still got a conscience. She only feeds on the douchebags. Win, win, right?"

We were back in the hall, on the way to the service elevator. If he was concerned that someone might open their door and find the two of us hauling a small armory through their building, he didn't show it. I, on the other hand, was soaked in a tacky, nervous sweat.

"But now she's taking it to the next level," he said, hitting the button again.

My mind raced. "Exporting."

"Bingo."

My stomach roiled again. "She's kidnapping people, holding them hostage, and then selling them to other vampires...?"

"Farm fresh," he said grimly as we boarded the elevator again.

"Does Nico—?"

"Are you kidding me? He doesn't know shit. Moms just figured it out herself."

"And you think that's what Ennis will do to your mom and Gia? Hold them until their souls are white enough, then kill them... or sell them to some other vampire?"

"Sure, why not?" he said. "It'd be a waste, otherwise, right?"

Our gazes met. I could see the thin strand of hope he was clinging to. He wasn't ready to accept that Ennis might have killed his mom outright. He needed to believe she was still alive. And, frankly, I needed it too. My sister and I might have had our differences, but she was still my sister.

My grip firmed around the Glock.

"Okay, so, what's the plan?" I asked.

The doors opened.

"The plan," he said, "is going to depend on what Romeo is willing to do. And how he takes the news."

He strode into the alley. At the end, a sleek blue car idled. Nico reached across the passenger side door and pushed it open.

"What news?" I asked Josh.

He shot me another grim look and pulled open the back door. He dumped the guns onto the leather seats and said to Nico, "I'm driving."
26: All In

Nico

**I** clenched my fists to stop them from shaking.

Molly reached over the seat and touched my shoulder. I couldn't hear her thoughts, but I felt the whisper of them, like a hush of reassurance murmuring against my ear.

But I wasn't about to be calmed.

Josh had just told me my sister was a human trafficker.

And he was whipping through the streets like an idiot, speeding, and cutting in and out of traffic.

The car had been a gift, from Ennis. On my sixteenth birthday, I'd woken up to find it parked in the driveway, the keys on the counter. At first, it had messed me up, but then Rational Guy had stepped in and convinced me to pack it with supplies and stash it in a paid garage. Not to tell anyone about it. Not that I didn't trust Tammy and Josh and the hunters, except... I didn't. Not totally. I didn't trust anyone totally. Of course, Tammy and Josh had known anyway, obviously.

At the moment, logic guy was trying to stuff freaked-out guy into a closet.

"Slow down," I barked at Josh. "You're going to get us pulled over."

His knuckles whitened on the wheel. "We have to—"

"To what?" I cut in. "Get pulled over with a grenade launcher and a girl wanted by the feds in the backseat? Slow. Down."

"Man, if my mom—"

"If you're right," I said, "then we don't have to race there. Ennis won't be able to bleach their souls in a few hours, right?"

The odometer ticked down to a more reasonable speed.

"We're not putting this off," Josh growled. "She might move them. She knows Moms knew where she was holed up—"

"Shut up and let me think a second," I barked, rubbing my temples.

What the hell had I expected? Ennis had said she'd take care of things. If I'd been her, a vampire, a predator, it would've been easy to see how Gia and Tammy were in the way. Ennis had promised to give me and Molly a normal life...

I ground my teeth, trying to push aside the guilt.

"Okay, let's say that Ennis has your mom and Gia at the warehouse," I said. "They haven't left and they're not dead."

"She'd better not be," Josh said tightly.

"So what?" I said. "You want to go in there guns blazing? That's not going to work. We're not special forces, man."

And to be honest, I was still having trouble with the idea of killing my sister, even if she was a vampire, even if she was selling off humans to other vampires, even if she had kidnapped Gia and Tammy.

Josh's eyes flicked over to me. He slowed further as we exited the interstate and pulled up to a stoplight, at which he actually stopped, not like the last three.

He slid away from me, his shoulder bunching up against his door.

"There's something else you need to know," he said, staring fixedly at the dash display.

I waited, but the silence stretched on.

"What?" I snapped finally.

The light turned green, but he didn't move. Fortunately, there weren't any other cars behind us.

He shifted, blowing out a long breath. "Okay, first thing you got to know is that I wanted to tell you, but it wasn't up to me."

My spine was so rigid, it felt like I'd need a blow torch to it get it to bend again. "Tell me what?"

He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "Rafe."

The shadows around us grew darker, turning black, tunneling. "What about him?"

He sank deeper into his seat. "He's not dead, man."

I might've blacked out for a second. It was only when I heard Molly leaning over the seat and felt her hand flattening on my chest, that I came back.

"Nico?" I could hear her outside and in, but it was like she was shouting down into a cave, her voice a far-off echo.

My own thoughts were silent. Logic-guy, freaked-out guy, all of them were holding their breaths.

_He's not dead_. Those words snuffed out everything else.

"And..." Josh went on cautiously, "he'll be there. With Ennis. He's been with her the whole time."

A pickup stopped behind us, laid on the horn, and then peeled out around us, the driver flipping us the bird as he passed. Apparently, the light had cycled through again.

Josh started driving again, at a snail's pace.

" _Nico_?" Molly murmured in my head.

" _Rafe murdered my parents_."

" _I know,_ " she said. " _And you thought you'd killed him?_ "

" _Yeah._ "

And my inner shadow, the one who had been there the night I had stabbed Rafe over and over and over on the porch, a guy I'd sort of hoped would never emerge from wherever he'd been hiding, edged out of some dark place in my head.

Rafe wasn't dead. And worse, my sister was with him.

" _Oh, Nico_ ..." Molly's fear trembled through me, but I didn't feel any fear. I wasn't afraid as Shadow Guy started talking to me, going over our options.

" _No,_ " Molly was saying to every thought that went through my head.

" _You want your sister back?_ " Shadow Guy asked her flatly.

" _It's not going to work,_ " she said. " _None of that... somebody's going to get killed. YOU'RE going to get killed_."

" _We all die,_ " Shadow Guy said.

Her fingers dug into my shoulder. " _Nico, please_ —"

" _There's only one way we're going to have any chance of getting your sister and Tammy back. Only one way. And I can't go in there half-hearted. She'll know if I'm lying... She'll know."_

" _This is crazy!"_

" _Get out of my head, Molly_."

" _I'm not going to let you do this_ —"

_"It's not your decision_ —"

_"Let's just go back to the house_ —"

_"You don't mean that—_ "

Panic twisted her thoughts, spinning them out into strained, thin things. _"Yes, I do! Yes, I do! You already decided, right? You'd give it all up. That's what you told her. That's what you wanted_ —"

_"That's what_ you _wanted, Molly. But you're just freaking out now. You know what she'll do to Gia._ "

I felt her fist thump against the back of my seat.

" _There has to be another way_."

" _What way?_ "

" _I don't know, but there has to—_ "

" _There isn't. You can't fight vampires. We can't. Even with Tammy's arsenal. They're too fast. They're too strong. You have to get close to them. You have to earn their trust. You have to learn their weaknesses, and use them."_

_"Then I'll go. They can have me. I'll trade myself for Gia."_

_"Yeah... that's not going to happen. Besides, they'd just take you and Gia too. Time to get out of my head now, Molly._ "

" _But—_ "

Josh pulled over on a darkened side street. Warehouses loomed on either side.

I turned to him, ignoring Molly's continued pleas in my head. It wasn't that hard. They were weak because she knew I was right.

But this wasn't just about Gia or Tammy for me.

Ennis had lied to me. The vampire had lied to me.

No surprise.

That's what vampires do.

But that she was doing it for Rafe. The guy who had murdered our dad and my mom, the one who'd lied to her all those years ago, used her the same way Samuel had used Gia. Only unlike Samuel, Rafe had ended up wanting my sister more than me. Sometimes I wondered if he would've ended up turning her anyway, even if I hadn't begged him to do it. Not that it mattered anymore. Some things you just can't change.

Here's the thing about vampire love. It's scary. Obsessive. Forever.

Rafe loved my sister.

And my sister...

She loved me.

At least I hoped she did.

It was the only weapon I had against her.

I turned to Josh. "What's in the bag?"

" _No, no, no_ —"

"What you need?" Josh asked.

"Your knife. A handgun."

"K."

"What about this warehouse? What do you know about its layout?"

"Not much about the inside."

"Outside?"

"Enough."

"Can you get up on the roof?"

"Not that one. But the one across the street. I can get up there."

"Is the rifle you got that launcher clipped to loaded?"

"You know it is."

"Laser sight?"

"There's one in the bag."

"Range won't be too far out?"

"Nah."

" _Nico, no_ —"

"Headsets?" I asked.

"Check."

"If I tell you to shoot me—"

" _Nico!_ "

I winced, but kept my gaze on Josh. "—can you?"

His eyes locked with mine. "You sure you don't want me to try for them?"

"And what? You hit one of them, maybe? That might give them a headache in the morning. Three vamps, two hostages. One you. One me. Those odds suck. Got anybody else we can call?"

"None who can get here tonight."

"And we're doing this tonight."

He held out his hand. I clapped mine into it. He held my hand hard. "I'll do it."

I nodded.

He released my hand and looked back at Molly, who had fallen silent, outside and in.

"What about you?" he asked her. "You in? Or do I have to lock you in the trunk?"

"I can hurt them," she said softly.

We both twisted in our seats. "Say what?" Josh asked.

Kitten eyes, big and black and endless—eyes you could fall into and lose yourself in.

"I can get into their heads," she said. "I can't read their thoughts, but I can... push my thoughts into their minds. That's why Brennin ran. That's why Samuel didn't kill me. It hurts them, I think." She scooted to the edge of her seat. "Let me try. Maybe I can get them to run. That's what Samuel and Brennin did."

Josh frowned. "What do you mean you can get into their heads? Like frickin' Professor X?"

"Yeah, something like that," she muttered.

"All three of them?" In my head, she was telling me what she'd done to Samuel and Brennin. Crazier still, I could see it replaying through her eyes.

"It hurts you too," I cut in.

"A headache will hurt me a lot less than what you're planning to do to yourself," she said.

I turned around in my seat. "I don't want you there."

"Having a wheelman-woman might save our asses," Josh said. "Can you drive?" he asked Molly.

"We'll pull right up," she said, altering my plans in my head as she spoke. "I'll stay in the car. I just need to be able to see them. That's all. If it doesn't work..."

"I don't like it."

"Don't get all alpha male on the chick," Josh said, pushing open his door. "We can't afford to leave any tricks in the bag. Not if we're going to do this. And we're _going_ to do this. All in. Okay? Let's lay it out and gear up."

Reluctantly, I nodded.
27: Tough Love

Ennis

**T** he hunter was tied to the chair, unconscious after Rafe's beating. Blood ran from her temple and her nose, her head slumped against her shoulder.

The sister was locked in the cage.

Samuel was cuffed to a pipe on the far side of the warehouse.

Brennin circled restlessly.

"Would you sit down?" I snapped. "You're making me dizzy."

He stopped but didn't sit. "What's taking him so long?"

I sighed. "Rafe's only been gone an hour."

Brennin swung his arms, fist slapping his palm. "You should've let me go. I could've ditched the hunter's car."

"I wish I had," I muttered and then refocused on Gia, who was peering up at me with huge blue eyes. "Get her out."

Brennin raced to the cage, causing the girl to flinch when he stopped. To her, it probably seemed as though he'd teleported there.

He unlocked the cage. She rolled back and kicked him in the face.

He growled. "Why haven't you subdued her?"

"Why don't you try?" I asked from my chair behind the table. I leaned back, swiveling slightly side to side. My gaze moved from Samuel to the hunter to the computer screen to the door to the girl and back again.

Brennin grumbled. His ability to soothe and control mortals was far less than what it should have been. Probably because of what had been done to his soul by the Ministry.

He grabbed the girl's ankles and dragged her out. She flailed and bucked against him.

I heaved a sigh.

"That's enough, I think," I said softly.

Slowly, the girl's struggling subsided.

Brennin shot me an irritated look, tonguing the blood from his lip. He pulled the girl up to her feet and ripped the tape from her mouth, leaving her hands bound before her.

Fear and rage continued to quiver off her, even though she was subdued. Brennin held her by the back of the neck. Her hair was blindingly red, somewhere between fire-engine and cherry. Not exactly an I'm-hiding-from-the-law color.

"Let's talk about what happened to your parents," I said gently. "Who killed your mother?"

The light trembled over her eyes. Her lips pursed, her throat working, but then after a moment of resistance, she said, "My stepdad, Dave."

"Did you see him do it?"

She shook her head barely. "I was out. I came home and she was dead. He was biting my sister. He was a vampire. Like you, you skank—"

She threw her elbow into Brennin. He wrapped his arm around her throat, holding her tighter.

"Ssshhh," I said, recapturing her gaze. "It's alright."

Her shoulders fell again, but she was a tough one. And as strong as my abilities were, they weren't as potent as Rafe's. He had more skill and practice. It was a nuanced game, keeping mortals calm when their every primal instinct was telling them to run, to fight.

"Dave wasn't a vampire," I said.

Her brow furrowed.

"They found his body," I told her. "They did an autopsy. He died of blood loss. All those knife wounds you gave him..."

"He was a vampire," she said. "He was biting Molly."

My gaze flicked over to Samuel again, who had been too quiet for my liking over in his little corner.

"What do you have to say about that, Samuel?"

The girl flinched and cowered against Brennin as if he would protect her. Obviously, she hadn't noticed Samuel huddled in the shadows before, but now the rage was building around her again—bright, hot, deadly. She wanted to kill him... so much.

I drummed my fingers on the table. Maybe I would let her.

Through the gloom, his smile was bright. "I plead the Fifth, Your Honor."

"Rarely advisable." I turned back to Gia. "I'm sorry to tell you, Gia. But your stepfather wasn't a vampire. If he had been, there wouldn't have been a body. He would've vanished... turned to dust. But he wasn't. I have the coroner's report right here."

I turned the computer around so she could see the photos I'd pulled up. The photos of her stepfather's body.

She frowned. She was genuinely confused, I could tell that much. And so was I. She'd admitted to attacking her stepfather, to stabbing him. And his body was right there, very mortal. So why had she thought he was a vampire? And who had bitten Molly?

"But..." she stammered.

Brennin jerked Gia back, causing her to stumble and her eyes to bulge. "What does it matter? If she did it or not? She's still going to Mary, isn't she?"

His words sent the girl's pulse racing.

"Now, now, Brennin," I said because my words made my scents stronger, more efficient. "If Gia is innocent of her stepfather's murder, that's something I want to take into consideration."

The girl whimpered but didn't say anything.

Of course, she was going to Mary, the vampire in control of Memphis. Mary was powerful and old and had an extensive little family down there. Getting her involved would be beneficial for everyone.

Besides, Nico needed Gia out of the picture. Regardless, Gia had stabbed her stepfather. She was guilty of that much. And Tammy, well, she was a hunter. As a vampire, I couldn't afford to offer her any mercy.

Arranging everything else was going to be tricky. I'd need Molly to come forward and turn herself in for a time and to tell a very convincing story, which I'd have to coach her on.

I wasn't sure Nico would be on board, but if he really wanted the girl in his life, it was necessary. My plans for him did not include running from the law. Molly was only sixteen, which posed another problem. I'd tracked down her biological father, but one could never be sure how things would play out exactly. Still, I felt fairly confident that by the time she was a legal adult, the worst of it could be settled and Nico could have what he wanted. _If_ he still wanted her. That was the part I found the most worrying.

Mortal love was so fickle.

He cared for her now, but he was a teenager. He really had no idea how much he would grow and change over the next few years. How the things that seemed vitally important at eighteen could be forgotten by twenty-one. How quickly it all passes. When I had been turned, I'd only just begun to realize it myself. But then, the most important thing to me at eighteen remained the most important thing to this day.

Nico.

My brother had been my sole focus for as long as I could remember. Even when my father and stepmother had been alive, I'd taken care of him. As a teenager, I'd resented it, sometimes. When my friends were out at parties, and I was stuck babysitting, again. But I never blamed him. He'd been such a good, loving little kid, so open and affectionate. When he'd been kidnapped by Rafe's ex, I hadn't thought twice about my own safety. I'd gone after him. The idea that any harm might come to him had filled me with such fury. I knew then, even when I'd been alive, that I would have killed to protect him.

But these last years, I'd watched him grow more withdrawn, more closed off. That little boy submerging beneath a man who rarely smiled and whose eyes were so haunted sometimes, my soul ached to comfort him. Except there was no comfort. Even if I had offered it, he wouldn't have wanted it, not from me, not anymore.

Even still, I loved him. Everything else that I had lost in becoming what I was now... I hadn't lost that. If anything, it had only grown stronger, fiercer.

Pushing out of my chair, I circled the table.

"Do you love your sister, Gia?" I asked.

She watched me, eyes growing hazy under the power of my words.

"You know that you're hurting her, don't you?" I said. "I know you think you're protecting her, but you're not. Not anymore. Charges have been brought against you in your absence. You're wanted for murder. And they'll try to make it appear that your sister is an accomplice. You stabbed your stepfather, didn't you?"

Tears trickled down her cheeks. She nodded.

"I know you did. And maybe he was attacking your sister. And maybe he did murder your mother. But he wasn't a vampire. So, wouldn't it be better if you made a confession and sent it to the justice department, take responsibility for your stepfather's death, clear your sister of any guilt? Say it was self-defense, say you were scared because he was a police officer and you feared you wouldn't be believed. So, you took your sister and you ran. But she didn't have anything to do with it. She was a victim. She's been trying to get you to turn yourself in, begging you to do so. And you want it to be perfectly clear that she was innocent in this, don't you?"

I leaned in closer, smiling just a bit.

"We can do it right now. I'll untie you and we'll record your confession. Give your sister a chance to live... . normal life. Isn't that what you want for her? Don't you want her to be safe and happy again?"

Tears were falling in a steady stream now and she gave a small nod again.

"I know you do, Gia. I know just how you feel." I ran my fingers lightly down her arm and she deflated, the last of the tension fleeing the air around her.

"Brennin," I said. "Untie her. We'll—"

A car horn blared outside, long and peeling and undeniably for us.

Samuel snickered.

I tensed. I'd been so involved with Gia that I hadn't been paying attention.

Suddenly, Gia started struggling again.

"Put her back," I snapped and spun my laptop around. "Nico, this better not be—"

But on the camera feed, in the middle of the parking lot, I saw little brother get out of the car I'd bought him for his sixteenth birthday.

I slammed my fist against the table.

Brennin finally managed to stuff Gia back in the cage.

"Call Rafe," I said. "Tell him we're going to require some tough love after all."
28: Here We Go

Molly

**A** n earpiece buzzed in my ear, the slow hush of Nico's breathing, the scraping and thumping of Josh positioning himself on the roof of the building next door. I gripped the steering wheel with sweat-slick hands. In my lap, the Glock.

"Keep the engine running," Nico said to me. "If anything happens, go."

He held my gaze. " _Don't try to save me_."

" _You can't ask me that. You know you can't_."

He turned back, facing the warehouse.

The headlights cut across the parking lot, but no one had yet noticed our arrival. Assuming they were inside at all.

I didn't know which was worse: hoping that they wouldn't be inside so we didn't have to go through with this insanity that we pretended was an actual plan, and thus, accepting that Gia was gone and there was probably no way to save her. Or hoping that they _were_ inside and that they'd soon emerge and we could go through with this. They were both terrible options as far as I was concerned. But there were no good ones available.

Yes, Nico and I could have gone home, put our heads down, do what Ennis wanted. But that meant turning my back on Gia, my only sister, who had saved my life, letting her become vampire fodder while I snuggled down with my honey in the house of the very vampire who had murdered her.

I wasn't cold-blooded. I wasn't a vampire. I couldn't do that.

Not that it was up to me.

Nico was going to confront his sister. Nothing was going to change his mind.

I was frightened by his thoughts, how blunt and clear they'd become all of a sudden. The moment he'd learned that Rafe was alive, all his doubts, all his fears, they'd just vanished. He was going to get Gia and Tammy back. And if his sister didn't agree, then...

I swallowed hard, wanting so much to beg him not to do this, wishing that I could come up with some reason for him to turn away from it. There were reasons, but none of them seemed to amount to much.

His life.

My life.

Us.

But we both knew that if we let Ennis do this, take control of those things, then what we had, our lives together would be corrupted, just like she was. Tainted. And we'd both hate ourselves and probably end up hating each other.

" _I'd never hate you, Molly,"_ he thought.

" _Don't eavesdrop."_ I wiped my tears from my eyes.

" _I'll stop when you do."_ He almost smiled then and I almost started sobbing, but I swallowed it back.

He held out his hand and I took it, holding on as tight as I could.

Charged silence trembled between us—the kind that's all high-wire emotion and held-breaths and things you want to say but can't because they won't make a damned bit of difference.

Finally, I twisted in my seat and kissed him. Hot, salty tears ran between our mouths.

"I hate to break this up, but..." Josh said through the earpieces.

Nico broke away, pressing his forehead to mine, thumbing away the tears on my cheek.

" _Don't cry_ ," he said.

" _Let's run away._ "

" _You don't mean that_."

" _I wish I did."_

" _I know._ "

He kissed me one more time. Then he drew back and looked down. He held Josh's hunting knife in one hand, a Smith and Wesson in the other.

His hands tightened around them and then he leaned over and jammed his hand, still holding the gun, against the horn.

The blast of noise shocked me back to the moment, away from the pain and the worry and the longing that this could somehow not be happening.

It _was_ happening. And it was time to forget about all the many, many things that could go wrong and just focus on what I needed to do.

"Here we go," he said.

"I got you," Josh said.

Nico glanced over at me. "Molly?"

I forced myself to nod.

Nico pushed out of the car, leaving the door open, he stepped deeper into the shadows.

I gripped the steering wheel and rested my other hand on the Glock. The car had a shifter paddle. I'd never seen one before, but Nico had walked me through the basics. Hopefully, I'd remember them if we needed to make a quick exit.

Emphasis on _we_.

Whatever happened with Gia and Tammy, whatever Nico said, I had zero intention of leaving without him.

We'd parked about halfway across the parking lot. Just far enough that the headlights skimmed the door, but weren't blaring right on it.

After a moment, the door opened.

My heart was jackhammering, threatening to crack through my already flimsy resolve. But I took in two quick breaths through my nose and let out a long slow one like Chase had taught me to do if I were ever in a situation like this again. Honestly, I'd never expected to be.

Ennis came out, dazzlingly beautiful and eyes lambent and skin just a shade paler than healthy. She wore a cream silk blouse and pearls and dark brown slacks. Her hair was pulled back in a chignon. She looked like a tony professional, not a kidnapper, not a murderer, not a monster.

She let the door slam shut behind her and crossed her arms, fixing Nico with a look that any mom would give a son who had busted a big-time rule.

"I'm very disappointed to see you," she said to him.

I wasn't sure if it was Nico's rapid breath in my ear or Josh's or both.

Nico's voice was cast-iron, black and hard. "Where's Gia? And Tammy?"

Ennis shook her head. "What makes you think—?"

I wanted to act, but I was supposed to wait until all three of the vampires were within sight. I was grinding my teeth so loudly I was sure the guys could hear it.

Nico raised his arm, pointing the gun at her.

"Where are they?"

Ennis merely gazed at him, unmoved. "You're not going to—"

"You see this?" he asked.

I couldn't, but I knew what he was referring to. The light of Josh's laser, homing in somewhere around Nico's temple.

Her arms dropped and her eyes flicked, almost too fast to see, off into the darkness of the night. I wondered if she could see Josh up there.

In my earpiece, Josh murmured, "Hiya, big sis."

And then I saw Nico whip the knife across his forearm, blood running black in the shadows, across his skin down his arm.

At this, Ennis flinched.

But Nico turned the knife to his throat. "If you stop me, Josh will shoot. He doesn't give a shit about me. He just wants his mom back. Do you _remember_ what that feels like?"

Ennis's cheeks drew in.

"You don't really want to hurt yourself," she said. "Your friend isn't going to—"

A bit of concrete exploded between Ennis and Nico. The shot itself had been virtually silent, a low pop, the whoosh of air, the clatter of concrete, almost as fast and quiet as a vampire.

"Tell her about the grenade launcher," Josh said.

"I can hear you," Ennis said in a low growl.

"Oh, good, then you know I'm not fucking around. Let my mom go."

"And my sister," I murmured.

Ennis's gaze shifted over to me, slowly.

"You made a mistake, Nico," she said, although she was looking at me. "All you had to do was stay out of it."

Suddenly, a hand clamped around my throat. The gun was ripped from my hand and then it was at my temple.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a blur as Ennis bolted. Nico fired. His gun echoing. The two of them rolled away.

"Oh shit," I heard Josh hiss. More concrete explosions. Rapid.

Meanwhile, in a vampiric second, the gun was gone from my temple and my door was ripped open and the gun reappeared, aimed at me.

"Get out of the car," a vampire with dark hair and icy blue eyes ordered.

Rafe, I assumed.

I fixed on the guy's eyes, on the blank press of his mind, like a bubble. I didn't think any words, specifically; all I thought about was pain. I filled it with all the anger and frustration and grief that I had in me and let it explode.

Rafe screamed and dropped the gun.

I heard Ennis shriek too, and then I blacked out.
29: The Darkness Came

Nico

**T** ime moves funny when your best friend is firing an M16 at you and your sister is a vampire—fast and slow all at once, warping and twisting.

Ennis slammed into me.

I got off a shot or two before I hit the ground and we rolled off, chased by Josh's bullets exploding the pavement behind us like there were mini-landmines embedded in the parking lot.

And then I felt a strange sensation, like a hot blast of desert wind scorching my mind. Ennis released me, screaming, clawing at her hair.

Someone else was screaming too.

The gunfire ceased.

"What the hell?" Josh muttered. "What was that? Molly?"

Head spinning, I pushed up to my feet. We'd rolled past the backend of the car and I could see him, Rafe, on the ground, clutching his head.

I searched around. Spotting the gun, I scrambled for it.

Josh was babbling something in my ear, but I wasn't listening.

Gun in hand, I rounded the back of the car again, aimed, and fired, missing Rafe's head by a fraction, causing him to jerk away suddenly with vampire quickness, but then he stumbled, crashing to his knee.

I fired again, but he dodged away.

I swore and fired again.

He feinted once more. The bullet cracked the concrete, the shot ringing in my ears and up my arms, echoing all around.

Behind me, more gunfire popped against the cement and punched into the sides of the car with hollow thunks. I didn't know what he was shooting at. Ennis probably. I didn't care.

I planted my feet, sighting Rafe as he stumbled and staggered, punctuated by bursts of quickness as he attempted to run. Molly's mind-attack had really messed him up.

I forced myself to wait until he'd bolted a few feet and then halted again, on all fours.

I aimed and shot.

A growling shout tore through the air.

He convulsed as the bullet hit his shoulder. Not the head, like I'd wanted, but he'd started to get up again at the last second. He crashed to the ground for a moment but pushed up again. I took aim once more, but then glass shattered behind me.

I finally heard what Josh was screaming over the mic.

"Molly! Molly! Molly!"

I spun, but it seemed more like a slow swivel.

Huddled in the shadow of the driver's side door, Brennin and Molly.

He was crouched. She was draped across his knee. His head was bent over her. She hung limp, her hair brushing the concrete, her leg still half in the car.

For a split second, nothing moved. I wasn't breathing. My heart wasn't beating. The entire world stopped spinning.

And then all at once, it started again, and I was scrambling to catch up.

"Molly!"

Josh was firing like crazy at the car, but Brennin, on the other side, wasn't moving, safely out of Josh's sight. I started forward, forgetting that I was holding a gun. I only made it two steps before Rafe plowed into me from behind.

I hit the ground with a heavy _oof_. My gun went off. Rafe crushed down on top of me, my cheek plastered to the concrete.

Brennin cradled Molly, holding her in a way that might have been tender if he hadn't been sucking the blood out of her.

Her hand slipped out from between them and smacked the ground—limp.

"No," I hissed through my teeth, unable to get my jaw to unclench as Rafe held my head down.

I struggled, or tried to, but Rafe kept me pinned.

" _Molly_!" I called to her.

Beyond the car, the warehouse door swung open. Tammy staggered out with Gia in tow.

Tammy was screaming something. I couldn't tell what, waving toward the darkness, toward Josh, but he didn't seem to see her. He was still firing at the car—at Brennin.

Tammy made to push Gia away from the car, toward the back of the parking lot. But Ennis surged out of the shadows, grabbing Gia, flinging her aside in the same motion. Tammy kicked, but Ennis ducked and then caught Tammy around the throat.

"Enough!" Ennis roared.

Bullets stopped pinging through the panels of the car.

All the time, I was screaming in my head.

" _You can hear me! I know you can! Answer me, Molly!_ "

Tammy twisted and struggled, but Ennis wrenched against her throat, forcing her to stop.

Ennis's gaze was hunting the air, searching for Josh probably.

"Ennis!" Rafe shouted as the red laser dot appeared on her forehead.

At that same moment, the door opened again. Josh's bullet plunked against the steel door.

Another vamp surged out. Samuel.

Rafe pushed off of me. "Brennin!"

Brennin's head snapped back.

Blood stained his lips crimson—Molly's blood.

He shot up. Molly rolled off his lap and flat onto her face. Locks of hair slipped over her cheek in black ribbons.

Brennin collided with Samuel, who screamed, "She was mine!"

They spun away, grappling.

Freed of Rafe's weight, I tried to push up, but my arms shook, all my strength gone.

"Molly," I gasped.

In my ear, Josh was panting, curses pouring out in an unbroken stream.

Gia got to her first.

"No! Molly!" She dropped beside her, blocking my view. "No!"

My arms gave out. I slammed against the ground, screaming as a lightning strike of pain tore through me.

"Nico?" I heard Ennis say.

My vision cut out.

When it came back, I saw Rafe grab Tammy's arm and then slam his fist into her spine. She pitched, bending like a sail in a strong wind and then crumbled to the ground. Then Ennis was rolling me over.

"Oh, no." Red tears ran down her pale skin. Her hand touched my cheek and it felt warm.

I sucked a sharp breath and realized that I was shaking and freezing and then I looked down and saw that I was covered in blood. My blood. A dark gaping wound on my side showed through my blood-soaked shirt.

"Ennis—" I rasped through chattering teeth.

"It'll be okay. It'll be okay," she said, scarlet tears spattering my lips, warm fingers stroking my cheek. "Rafe!"

As she twisted, screaming for Rafe again, I caught a glimpse of Gia, dragging Molly into the back of the car. Molly's head rolled back. Her face was slack, her skin gray, her lips white.

"Molly..." I'd meant to shout, but my breath was too shallow and quick and it came out in a choked whisper. I slammed my eyes shut. " _Please... hear me."_

But she didn't.

"Let's go."

I was scooped up and swung around. The stars above bent and stretched into arcing streaks, growing brighter than they'd ever been in the city, widening into bands, expanding and coalescing into a brilliant white dome of light.

And then the light was gone.

And the darkness came.

And I died.

But I bet you can guess... I didn't stay dead.

Though I wish I had.
30: Monster

Nico

**L** et's talk about pain.

There are a million different flavors of pain, but an unfortunate dearth of synonyms. Ache, agony, torment, torture. Those are good for a start, I guess.

Bones cracked and re-hardened—brittle white-hot pain, like frozen metal fracturing as it hits a molten crucible.

Muscles twisted and reformed—strangling pain that turns the skin black and the lips purple and the eyes red.

Organs burned away and blistered and then reborn—putrid pain, screaming while drowning and yet still screaming as each layer of skin and tissue is peeled away to the raw and then dipped in acid.

There is nothing beautiful about becoming a monster.

There is nothing glamorous about turning into a murderer.

It is pain.

And then there is the invader.

He that tramples in and throttles that tender bit of soul, that whimpering child of humanity, claps it in irons, weighing it down, and tosses it into a muddy pit. And he promises that so long as the soul does everything the invader wants, it will survive. It is so cold and dark down there, and lonely, the chains are heavy and there's no sustenance, and the soul can only plead, only beg, only grovel on hands and knees to the invader, please...

But what is it asking for?

To be kept alive? Or to be set free?

But there is no freedom...

I think I'd woken before, or at least, that thing inside of me had woken. I had flashes of Ennis's green eyes, her soothing voice, and the sounds of an animal snarling, bashing, howling. In hindsight, I guess that animal had been me.

I apologize if it's too much—but it was. Too much.

Through the vacant wastes of dreamless sleep came the scraping of a distant tree branch against the wood siding, the wind whispering against the window panes, two raccoons hissing and snapping at each other over some scrap of food.

As I rose from the deepest depths to the gray places just under wakefulness, voices came to me, murmuring through wood floors and cold vents, growing as clear as if they were right beside me.

"Do you think he will?"

"Of course, he will. What choice does he have?" Ennis asked.

"We all have a choice."

"What does that mean? What choice?"

"You resisted."

"We all resist in the beginning, don't we?"

"Some more than others."

"What are you suggesting?" she snapped. "That he won't? In the end, he'll be compelled, just like I was, just like we all are. But at least I can offer him a less difficult option."

"I only want you to be prepared..." Rafe said softly.

My eyes flew open and I gasped. The air hurt as I forced my lungs to take it in.

The room was black, but quickly—too quickly-my eyes adjusted. And I could see everything: the dust clinging to the plaster overhead; the faint grooves in the wood floors left by the door opening and closing, opening and closing, a thousand times over; the pinpricks of rust on the brass bed knob.

I shot up. My head swam as the room swept by me in a blur. My muscles contracted in a gut-twisting spasm. I touched my side. My shirt was gone. The blood was gone. The wound was gone. No scar.

I sat there for a second, or a minute, or an hour.

Two voices in my head.

_No, no, no, no_.

_You know it's true. You know. You know. You know._

The next thing I knew I was throwing myself bodily against the door, roaring in an animalistic way, a kind of guttural howling of blind rage that would have made any semi-intelligent creature flee in the other direction.

My throat ached. My chest clenched with thirst. But it wasn't thirst really. Rather a clawing need—my chained soul, ripping off his fingernails against his prison walls, pleading, please...

And the invader was there, a pencil-thin silhouette against the eternal night sky, his finger to his lips,

" _Ssshhhh_."

The wood panels of the door splintered and I slammed through, crashing into the hall, cracking the drywall. The ripping of wallpaper shrieked in my ears. Dust coated my tongue and settled on my lashes.

And then Ennis was there at the top of the stairs, a green-eyed angel surrounded in a hazy glow.

"Hello, Nico," she said.

The sadness around her was like a shroud and it smelled like cold, wet earth and a silent, starless night. I cringed and cowered and shook, tasting her emotions. They sluiced and sliced and slammed through me like a raging river full of debris—cutting, bruising, drowning.

At once too much and yet... not enough.

The invader in me wanted to take a deeper breath, to drink in the layers of the world, the emotions, the scents, the colors. Everything was more intense, more alive.

Except for me.

I was dead.

Ennis was crouching in front of me. I hadn't noticed her move. My new senses seemed to be cutting in and out, struggling to get a fix on the new overpowering signals.

Gently, she brushed the ends of my hair from my brow. Warmth and affection blanketed me, quelling the shaking, calming the snarling. Her love for me smelled like fall leaves crunching underfoot, a clean, heavy quilt, warm peanut butter and chocolate chunk cookies.

In the next flash, I was sobbing. She was holding me, rocking me, murmuring in a soothing tone.

"It's alright. It will be alright."

And for a second, I almost believed her. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to bury my face against her and be surrounded by the complete, unyielding scent of her love for me.

I'd always known my sister loved me, but not until that moment, not until I'd become a vampire and emotions became more than words, more than embraces and looks, not until they'd become textures of scent and palpable sensations of cold and warmth like the wind, did I realize just how much my sister loved me.

And I had to forgive her.

Sometime later, somehow, she moved me downstairs. She might've carried me for all I knew. One moment I was clinging to her in the hall, and the next I was sitting on a sofa in a dark room, candle flames filling the fireplace and thickening the air with the aroma of wax.

"It'll get easier," I heard her say, or maybe she'd said it before.

The world, time, my memories, were flickering reflections upon the slowly swaying disc of a brass pendulum—bending and distorting, coming and going.

"You'll learn how to tune out most of it, most of the time, to only focus on what you need and forget the rest."

The next thing I knew it was morning, or so I guessed from the dim light pushing against the heavy curtains and the shades behind those. Still, the room appeared lit up like a stadium. A clock ticked. A mouse's feet scrabbled through the walls, fur brushing against the dust, stirring the air into whispers.

Scent lingered—sister, family, love—and _him_. A rolling surge of rage ripped through me and I was on my feet so fast I stumbled over the coffee table and hit the floor, grimacing.

Upstairs a bed creaked, someone rolling over. Ennis.

And through the floorboards, another sound, a symphony of them, so beautiful, so rhythmic. They filled my head, consuming me.

Then I was downstairs, not knowing how I'd come there, not caring.

On a metal bed in the small concrete space, a man. A living man.

For a second, or an hour, or a day, I stood there watching his chest rise and fall. I placed my hand to my chest and mimicked the motion, but it was less necessary, though not entirely _un_ necessary I realized.

The air funneled out of his reddened nose, whistling. But it was the thump that filled my head. That steady bump-bump. It vibrated through the bed, into the floor, into me. I could taste the heat it made on the air. I could see it under the thick flesh of his stubbly jowl, pushing against the skin like it wanted to be set free, pulsing in the white mist that flowed around him, like a thin layer of fresh snow over an icy lake stirred by the wind.

So white.

The pencil-thin man, the invader, whispered with cold seductive lips against my throat.

That whimpering soul pleaded...

Please...

And then there was blood.

Maybe you didn't think I'd do it. That I'd find a way around it. That I'd be better than what I was. But I'm a vampire.

Vampires are monsters.

Vampires are murderers.

Have I made that clear yet?
31: Don't Say I Didn't Warn You

Nico

**"H** e was a murderer, Nico," Ennis was saying to me, attempting to coax me out of the ball that I had become on the concrete. I huddled there, transfixed by the dead eyes of the man I had killed.

"A serial rapist. He told me. He confessed everything. The world is better without him....nd you had to."

And then I was upstairs.

It was night again. I sat at the kitchen table, a worn wood oval, every faint scratch in the dark finish glowed like the wood underneath was made of sunlight.

Now that the invader was sated, now that my soul was bathed in that white mist like an addict lost in a high, thoughts that had been muffled began to reemerge.

"I was shot." I winced at the sound of my own voice and the iron tang still on my tongue.

Ennis set a glass of water down in front of me. "Try to drink. Just a sip."

I must have tried because the next moment I was gagging and choking. Glass shattered on the table around me, water spilling off the edge, dripping onto my jeans.

Then I was back on the couch, Ennis next to me, holding my hand in perfect stillness as if she were posing for a portrait. Her gaze was fixed just over my shoulder.

When I turned my head to look at her, her eyes slid to meet mine.

"I should've let you die," I said.

I killed again in the following weeks—more than once. I won't go into it. I didn't really remember much about it or didn't want to.

She brought them to me. She sedated them, put them in the basement, spent most of her days down there with her laptop or on the phone, whitening their souls for me as she worked.

She gave them all to me. I needed to feed more in the beginning, she said, until I started to feel more "anchored" in myself.

At first, I didn't know what she meant, I was still too fractured. My thoughts and sense of time came in broken bursts of clarity and billows of darkness. But then, a sort of murky equilibrium began to take hold.

Most of my days were spent simply trying to get my body to move in a way I could make sense of, trying to tune out the overwhelming influx of sensory information, attempting to hold on to those thoughts that were mine and not the whispering pencil-thin invader's or the whimpering pit-dweller's.

Gradually, Ennis introduced me to the outside world.

The house was an old farmstead, remote, but kept-up, prairie hills as far as I could see. She said she rented it out to vacationers most of the time, but I couldn't imagine who would want to come out to the middle of nowhere for a vacation. She let me roam and run. That felt good.

Electric lights came back into my life, glaring and difficult at first, but I was adjusting as the days moved into weeks. One cloudy day she had me go onto the porch with nothing but a jacket, sunglasses, and a baseball cap. I hung in the shadows, squinting and cowering. At night, everything was so vibrant, the colors rich as oil paint from a tube, but during the day, everything looked white-washed, ghostly.

Finally, she took me to town. The noise of the car engine only startled me briefly and then I settled into it.

The town was small, but it must have been a weekend, because there were kids everywhere, riding up and down the main street, gathering in groups in front of a greasy looking diner. I stayed in the shadows, forcing myself to watch them, and not the mists that surrounded them as the invader wanted.

Ennis didn't know, but I'd been practicing—ignoring him.

After that night, I left when I wanted, returned when I wanted. It took thirty minutes to get to town by car, but I could run it in half that time.

There was a girl. I'd seen her that first night at the diner with her friends. She had long dark hair and big dark eyes. She had a boyfriend. I watched them making out in the back of his car. I watched him drop her off at home. Through her window, I watched her sit in front of her computer into the late hours, toggling between homework and surfing. I won't say how long this went on for. Too long.

Ennis and I didn't talk much. Not about what had happened. Not about anything. She didn't let me near a phone or a computer.

One night I followed the girl to a party. A kegger at some kid's sprawling house outside of town, I slipped through the shadows, willing the drunk and stoned kids not to see me, and they didn't. I was good at that, I realized. Not being seen. Really good.

I stole the girl's phone from her purse. Then I ducked out to the woods. I knew her password. I'd seen her put it in hundreds of times already.

Crouching, my back to an oak tree, I tapped it in. I was surprised at the date on the phone. Only a month had passed. It seemed much longer.

I pulled up the browser and started to search.

It didn't take long.

I found Tammy's obituary and then a news article: _Private Security Expert Murdered While Apprehending Fugitives._

And there they were. The pictures were old, probably from their last school yearbook—Gia and Molly.

I followed another link and opened the video of a local news reporter. But it was from just after the incident and she didn't really have any information—much less than I did. I clicked on another video and then a follow-up, picking up bits and pieces.

_Girl taken into custody, claims boyfriend responsible. Authorities still searching for him... warn that he is considered extremely dangerous... the younger sister brought to the ER pronounced DOA..._

My hand clenched so hard around the phone, the case cracked.

... _but, miraculously, was revived._

I jumped up.

_Although she has not regained consciousness..._

Molly was alive.

I did a search to find out where I was exactly. Only three hundred miles to the city.

"Not thinking about leaving, little brother, are you?"

I tensed.

Far off, deep in the woods, Rafe stepped out from behind a tree. He'd been downwind of me and far enough away that I hadn't noticed.

The phone shattered in my hand.

I didn't think. I barreled down the hill at him.

He waited for me.

I should've realized that wasn't a good sign.

When I reached him, he grabbed me as I was lunging and flung me head over heels, up through the branches.

I crashed onto my back, grimacing. Vampires definitely feel pain. And it really freakin' hurt. To be fair though, as a mortal, it probably would've broken my back.

Rafe stepped on my throat with his Italian shoes—the leather actually smelled like money.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, hands in his black jacket, eyes scanning the trees as if he were more worried about the raccoons attacking him than me. "I've seen you, following that girl. She does look a bit like Molly, doesn't she? Missing that certain _je ne sais quoi_ though, isn't she?"

I tore at his jeans, but he wasn't moved, he wasn't even fazed. I was strong, stronger than I had been when I'd first woken up, but I still wasn't sure how to capture and control that strength. I must've looked pathetic. That's how I felt.

"You don't want to go back there, Nico. You don't want to see her again. You don't want _her_ to see you."

"She's alive? She's awake?"

His steely blue eyes slid down to me. "I told Ennis it was useless to try and keep you here. Once you learned the girl was alive... but it won't end well, Nico. Trust me. If you love her, and I know you do, then you'll stay away from her."

"The same way you stayed away from my sister?" I hissed up at him.

"And you see what that's led to?"

He took his foot off my neck and moved back, giving me plenty of space.

I leapt up and faced him. I wanted to rip his throat out. I wanted to gut him with my bare hands. Pencil-thin man was egging me on, but in the back of my mind, I knew I wasn't strong enough yet.

I was a downy little fledgling and he was a full-grown hawk.

But he had to know I wanted to kill him. The sulfur stench of my hatred was so powerful I couldn't smell anything else, not even him.

"Your sister wants to keep you. To have you replace Brennin in our little family, but you and I know that's not possible, don't we?"

Visions of skin flailing and blood splattering swamped my head.

"You should be safe enough back in the city for the time being," he said. "I'll let you go, because of your sister, but I will not hesitate to end you, Nico. So, think about that. And think about Molly and her... soul and her very interesting power. You ask yourself, do you want to come after me knowing what I know about _her_?"

The burn of hot rust flooded my mouth. A high-pitched hum that seemed to be my own body, strung so tight it was buzzing like electrified steel, filled my ears.

"Go on, Nico. Go to her. But don't say I didn't warn you."
32: The Most Important Part

Molly

**T** he TV was on, but I wasn't watching it. I just needed the noise.

For once in my life, I wished more people were around, so I could lose myself in their heads and get out of mine. Instead, I had my own hospital room with my very own police officer outside the door. Neither of us was clear on whether he was there to protect me or stop me from escaping.

At the moment, he and the DA and all the other dozens of cops and lawyers I'd seen over the last few days were sympathetic. That had been easy enough. I just read their thoughts and told them whatever they thought made me seem innocent. But Gia had already supplied them with the basic story—Samuel had killed our parents and then kidnapped us and taken us on the run with him.

I hadn't seen Gia. I'd only regained consciousness a week ago. I was still technically under observation, but I knew from reading the medical staff's heads that the cops were forcing the hospital to keep me because they weren't quite sure what to do with me yet.

But physically I was okay, in spite of dying from blood loss and being in a coma for almost three weeks... just fine.

Except there was this thing about Nico being missing. Josh had managed to get me a message through an orderly. Basically, it said that Josh hadn't heard from him.

In the cops' heads, I found out that Nico's car hadn't been registered and they were having troubles tracking down the VIN. They thought Samuel had stolen the car from somewhere and none of us corrected them.

But in their heads, I also found out about all the blood. They'd assumed it was mine. But I knew it wasn't.

Josh had told them that Tammy was a bounty hunter. Apparently, this was one of the things she was licensed to do. His story was that she'd gotten a tip about Samuel at the warehouse. Josh had followed her because he'd been worried. Things had gotten crazy. In the fight, Samuel had stabbed me—hence blood and blood loss and death. Tammy had been killed. Her spine snapped. The cops thought she'd been hit by a car. Josh had given Gia his phone and sent her to the nearest hospital with me while he waited with his mom. He'd cleaned the weapons and left them inside, pinning them on Samuel.

I don't know how he had the presence of mind to do that when his mom had just died.

Now Gia was in federal holding somewhere. I was stuck in the hospital. I didn't know where Josh was, although at least I knew he was alive.

Nico, on the other hand...

Every time I thought about him I was filled with a cold panic, like falling through the ice and not being able to find a way out.

Pushing aside my sheets, I padded into the bathroom. It was the middle of the night, but time didn't make much of a difference to me. I took a shower, mostly because I didn't have anything else to do. I was supposed to be getting up and walking around, building up my strength again, but I also wasn't allowed outside of the room.

One of the nurses had taken pity on me and brought me some clothes she'd been intending on taking to Goodwill. They were pretty nice—worn-in. A hooded sweatshirt with frayed sleeves and a ketchup stain, some jeans that were probably a bit too tight for her, but a bit loose on me, at least since having lost most of the blood in my body.

I didn't remember it—dying. And since I hadn't seen Gia or Josh, I couldn't get any real insight into what had happened. That was probably for the best. The good thing about not remembering being attacked is that you don't remember that you were attacked. It left me with a detached sensation, like those stories your parents tell you about when you were a toddler, stuff you did, covering yourself in paint or pulling all the flour out of the bag and dragging it all over the house. You know they're talking about you, but it doesn't quite feel that way, like they could be talking about anyone.

I combed my wet hair back from my face. I was pale. More so than before.

_Like a vampire_ , I thought.

Sick to my stomach, I flipped off the light and pulled open the door and stopped dead.

He was there. Black hoodie pulled up over his face and sunglasses, but right there, in my room, less than three feet away.

I blinked like maybe I was dreaming.

"Nico—"

I threw myself into his arms, kissing him. He held me, crushing me, kissing me back, hard.

" _Where have you been? I was so worried. What happened? Nico..."_

But nothing came back.

And then I winced, my spine popping from his arms cinching tighter and tighter around me.

He dropped me so fast that I stumbled and had to grab his arm to keep from falling. He was so still and so pale and so blank...

" _Nico..."_

Silence. I may as well have been trying to read a mannequin... or a corpse.

Slowly, I reached up, hooking the edge of his sunglasses and sliding them down.

I didn't mean to, but I gasped and snatched my hand back.

Green.

His eyes had always been hazel, sometimes bluer, sometimes greener, but now they were a clear, emerald-green... like _hers_.

My hand went to my mouth and that's when I realized I was crying—thin, silent tears as cool as his lips had been.

It felt like I was wilting, just drying out and shriveling up. The slightest breath of a wind would scatter me.

A voice in my head was saying,

_No, it can't be. He's not. This isn't happening_ ...

But it was.

It had.

Nico was a vampire.

I swallowed hard, trying to push through my own inner death so I could speak. But my mind went as blank as his, running into the black emptiness of it as if it could find him in there again, that connection that I'd avoided for so long, because it had been so easy and so inexplicable. I'd tried to run away at first, but now that it was gone...

"You have to stop," he said in a careful way, his face strained. "That hurts."

I flinched and sank back. "I'm sorry." I reached for him, but then drew my hands into my sleeves and hugged my arms close to me. "Nico... I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"I shot myself," he said flatly. His voice was still his, sort of, but there was a depth to it that had never been there before, and it sent a chill through me.

"You—?"

"By accident." He edged away from me, further into the room.

I glanced back at the narrow window in the door, wondering vaguely how he'd gotten past the officer, but I guess I really didn't need to wonder. Vamp powers. At least, I hoped that was what he'd done. I hoped he hadn't killed... I stopped the thought before it finished.

He moved over to the curtains and peeked through as if he suspected someone was out there, following him. Maybe they were.

"I went after Rafe," he went on in an impassive way. "I was so focused on him. I didn't..." His hand curled around the edge of the curtain. "Are you okay?"

I closed the distance between us again. I wanted to kiss him again, to put my arms around him, but it was like I'd forgotten how. "Really? You're asking me that?"

He lifted his hand and I could tell it was hard for him; that he had to concentrate, probably to slow himself down. And then he touched my cheek lightly. I leaned into his fingers. It should have been easy and warm and pliant, but instead, it was awkward and cold and hard.

He let his hand fall to his side.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back a fresh spate of tears. I wasn't sure how I could cry anymore. Inside, I felt hollow and brittle... a husk. As if all those transfusions had failed and I was still bloodless, still dead.

"Who was it? Who bit me?" I asked, searching for anything to say.

His face hardened suddenly. The color fled his eyes, just for a second. "Brennin."

"Where is he? Do you know?"

He glanced back at the window. "No. Samuel showed up. He and Brennin fought. I don't know what happened to either of them." But his strained tone suggested he intended to find out.

I snagged the zippered edge of his open hoodie. "Don't go after them. They could..."

"What? Kill me?" He snorted in a humorless way. "Too late for that."

He plucked my hand from his jacket and held it in his open palm, gazing down at it like it was some rare butterfly that had landed on him and he didn't want to move for fear of frightening or hurting it.

I wrapped my fingers around his.

"At least you're here—"

"I'm not here," he said harshly. "Don't think that. Don't start thinking that."

He yanked his hand away and strode back toward the door.

"I shouldn't have come here."

I darted after him, catching his arm. "Nico, we'll—"

He ripped away from me. "There is no _we_ , Molly. No _us_. I'm dead. And this"—he pushed his fingers to his chest like he might reach in a rip out his own heart—"is just the monster, using my corpse."

More tears, hot ones this time. "No. Your soul is still in there. It's still—"

He covered his face with his hands. "He was right. Fuck—"

I grabbed him again, clinging to his arm, touching his neck, his face, forcing him to look at me. "I don't care. I don't—I love you, please, just—"

He gripped my hair, pressing his forehead to mine. "I know you do.... ." A pinkish sheen warped his eyes. A bloody tear trailed down his cheek. "I know you did. And I loved you too. But I'm gone now."

"No—"

"This is your chance," he said. "And you're going to take it. I'm dead. But you're not. You wanted a normal life. And you'll have it."

I was shaking my head. "No—"

His fingers dug into my scalp, pulling at my hair painfully, stopping my head from moving. His too-green eyes, sheened with blood tears, were all I could see.

"Some things you just can't change, kitten."

My own tears sliced out of my eyes, so painfully, they might've been blood too.

"But now comes the most important part. Don't be dead, Molly. Live, okay? For me."

And then he was gone. Just like that, before I had a chance to kiss him again or beg him to stay or even suck in another breath... he was just gone.
33: Cain

Nico

**"S** orry. They moved the Bloodsuckers Anonymous meeting to tomorrow night," Josh said as I stepped into the living room.

He sat on the couch, casually aiming a shotgun at my chest.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Are you kidding me? All that blood? You and Ennis and Rafe and Brennin all vanish? Not hard to guess."

His black eyes were hard, unforgiving and, in a weird way, it was a relief. After the agony that had been seeing Molly, it was good to be seen for what I was. Josh's emotions were subdued, cool, in control. I'd always kind of blown him off as a goofball, but it wasn't until that moment that I realized just how badass the kid really was.

"I'm so sorry about your mom," I said, not moving from where I was on the other side of the living room, in the shadows. I knew he'd shoot me. I was glad to know it.

A thin pulse of grief, heavy and suffocating, pushed off him, but he drew it back in.

"Don't try any of your vamp juju on me," he said.

"I'm not," I said. "I mean, I'm not trying to. I'm not quite... in control, yet."

"Yeah, that's a problem, isn't it?" The dark eyes of the gun never wavered.

"I'm not going to kill you."

"I might kill you."

"Okay."

His eyes narrowed and then he lowered the gun. "Man..."

"Samuel. Brennin. Where are they?"

"Good question. I thought Brennin was with big sis."

I shook my head. "No. She doesn't know where he is. Hasn't heard from him, at least last I saw her."

"He got his fill of Molly."

I tensed.

He watched me, closely, hand still on the gun. "No telling what that did to him. I've been researching, but... some of this shit is pretty thick. Ancient. There's a guy on the East Coast. He oversees the old journals, the for real stuff, but he's a tight ass and he doesn't like to send info over the web or on the phone. Moms and... ."—another flicker of grief—"we talked about making a trip out to see him, but... then shit got real, right?"

"Yeah," I muttered.

"You killed?"

My throat burned with the tang of blood. "You know I have."

"Who?"

"Guys. Ennis served them up on a platter."

"Yeah, your soul's looking pretty pristine." He let out a puff of a laugh. "Almost like the old days."

We were silent for a minute.

"Did you see her?" he asked me.

I nodded. My heart twisted almost like it was thinking about picking up its pace again, but it didn't. Every so often it beat as if forced to do so against its will, but most of the time it was as hard as a stone in my chest.

"How's she look?" he asked.

Beautiful. Oh, god, so beautiful. I'd tried not to focus on her soul, but it'd been impossible.

Now, I understood why Samuel and Brennin had become so obsessed. In a gray world, she wasn't just a flicker of color, she was Dorothy landing in Munchkinland—a whole new world of colors.

"Tell me something," Josh said, leaning back. "You still love her? I mean, you want to bite her, or you want to protect her?"

Was it possible to want both? I wanted to protect her. I wanted to taste her in my mouth. I wanted her blood on my tongue. I wanted to drown in her soul. But I didn't want her dead. I didn't want to her hurt. The thought that something might harm her created a weird alliance between Pencil-thin Man and my whimpering soul—it wasn't going to happen. Neither of them would let it happen.

And the two of them agreed. We'd find Samuel and Brennin and kill them first. Then we'd spend the rest of our miserable existence making sure Molly was safe. And for the first time since I'd woken up, I was okay. Being a vampire meant I could protect Molly in a way I couldn't while I'd been mortal. I had a purpose.

My gaze fixed on the gun.

"You figured it out, didn't you? Protecting Molly. Honestly, I'm surprised it didn't occur to you right away. I know how single-minded you blood-munchers can be."

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "You've just been sitting here for a month, waiting for me?"

"Nah. I've got cameras in the hospital. I saw you. Pretty impressive. You slipped right by everybody, didn't even get a first glance, let alone a second. Not from anybody, not even the cop. Total ninja."

I winced. "Yeah, so?"

"So, I told you, I've been doing some reading..."

"More monster porn?"

He grinned. "Depends on what gets you off these days."

I rolled my eyes. "Is there a point?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

"Yeah. Killing Samuel and Brennin, for a start."

His grin widened. "That's what I was hoping you'd say. But why stop there?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you wanted to be a hunter, right? There's some bit of your soul in there, still. Some scrap of who you used to be-"

"You know it's not like that-"

"Ennis still likes to go after the bad guys. She still has a bit of her conscience left. You know why Moms thought that was?"

"I bet you're going to tell me."

"Because of you. Because she loved you and she wanted to keep you safe. That made her... a bit more moral than some of the others. It made her a bit more... human."

"So?"

"So, you love Molly, right? You want her to be safe. You don't want anything to happen to her."

I waited.

"But as long as there are vampires in the world, she'll be a target." He gestured to a tablet on the coffee table, his other hand still on his gun. "There are some interesting stories in there about vampires. I've been reading up on this one guy in particular. He got dusted way back. Not much concrete info about him. But lots of stories. The vampires they still talk about him. He's like... their boogeyman."

"He liked to hide under their beds?"

Josh leaned forward. "Sort of. He killed other vampires. He didn't just kill them. He fed off them. He survived off them."

If my heart had been beating, it might've skipped one or two.

"That's not possible."

"But this guy did it. The stories are vague, but he was around for a long time, centuries. And allegedly, he only killed other vamps. From what I gather, he stalked them, just like vamps stalk mortals. And right when the vamps were taking out their victims, he'd hit them, steal the blood they'd just stolen. It really pissed other vamps off, you know? Man, they hated him. One vamp wrote about it... there's a journal. It's part-rage that he was turning against his own kind, part-disgust that he was like... too lazy to find his own humans to stalk, but mostly fear that he'd show up. Vamps are vulnerable when they're feeding, too caught up in the moment. But I guess I don't have to tell you."

My mind was working, the invader listening. My soul, silent.

"They called him Cain, you know, brother-slayer." He leaned back and rested the gun across his knees. "I'm sorry this happened to you, man, really."

Another whiff of grief, but it was buried under something else, something sharper and cleaner, something I couldn't quite identify. It reminded me of winter, of ice, clear and hard, and metal—a knife or a sword.

"So, I was thinking," he said, "maybe it's time."

"Time for what?"

"Time to resurrect Cain. You wanted to hunt vampires. So, let's do it. What do you say? Want to turn against the family, Fredo?"

I took a deep breath that I didn't need. The stolen blood in my veins stirred. All the voices inside of me spoke as one, "They're not my family."
Epilogue

Brennin

**I** woke up screaming.

A flurry of voices and hands surrounded me.

My head hurt. Everything hurt. I hadn't felt so much pain since I'd been turned. I think I was crying maybe, begging, I don't know. My head... all my senses were clogged, dull, like I was drugged.

"Try to take a deep breath," someone was saying.

Were they talking to me? I didn't need to take a breath, not as often as I once had, but then I realized my lungs were searing. I was panting. Air dragged over my tongue and dried out my lips like someone had crammed a hair dryer down my throat.

Slowly, the room came into focus. My pulse slowed...

I tried to sit up, but I couldn't.

A young woman looked down at me.

"We had to restrain you. We were afraid you might hurt someone or yourself. How do you feel?" she asked me in a calm, clinical voice.

"Feel?" I croaked.

"Do you know where you are?" she asked.

I slumped back, scanning the room. They'd given me something, I think, because everything had a soft edge, a faint glow, like a soul, except walls don't have souls. I looked back at the woman. Her white coat seemed a bit fuzzy, but it wasn't her soul. I couldn't see her soul.

"Can you tell me your name?" she asked.

"Brennin," I answered automatically.

I cringed. My chest ached like a hammer was trying to crack through my ribs from the inside out. My heart... it was beating.

"What's wrong with me?"

She smiled a little. "Brennin, you're lucky to be alive."
One Last Soul: Book Three

Prologue

Ennis

**T** he corpse fell. His pale limbs, scarred by vicious tattoos, sprawled across the antique Persian rug. Swastikas bold and black upon faded crimson lotuses. Symbols of luck desecrated into ones of hate; flowers for immortality, a bier for the dead.

But I felt no remorse for his passing. I'd bleached his soul and brought him here for slaughter. And yet, I couldn't help but think that I should have felt _something_. Regret over a life gone so terribly wrong that death was the kindest solution for everyone.

But I felt nothing.

One of Mary's minions, an obsequious young vampire, hustled forward and scooped up the dead man in arms that seemed far too spindly for the task, but such was the power of the vampire. She carried him through the gilded double-doors, into the formal dining room, and out of sight.

Dabbing the corner of her mouth with a graceful finger, Mary's golden eyes slid languidly over to us again. Nothing about her movements was affected. Vampire though she was, Mary was a creature of another era, another millennium, and moved with such flawless fluidity, the sight of it choked me with its terrible beauty.

Such terrible beauty.

"Thank you for staying," Mary said in that lush baritone of hers, deep, yet undeniably feminine, muddied by an accent that, in all likelihood, no longer existed in the living world.

"Of course," I said from across the room.

Rafe and I had been invited to sit, but as appealing as the antique plantation-style furniture was, we stood.

Mary smoothed her hands over her white silk blouse. "I have spoken with the Minister."

"Has she reconsidered?" I asked.

Bringing the Minister over to my way of thinking would have been a huge win for my cause. She was well-known and respected in the community.

Mary's head tilted, her gaze sliding over to Rafe beside me. He was a silent figure in black, watchful, guarded. None of us were entirely comfortable. Unrelated vampires were generally about as welcoming to each other as lions dropped into a pit together. But Mary was one of our best customers and a staunch ally in my efforts to wean vampires off of the law-abiding populace.

"No," Mary said with a note of apology. "Not yet. But give her time. She is entrenched in her ways. It happens all too often, I'm afraid. We tend to be rather... obdurate, don't we? But that's a mistake, you see?"

Her luscious lips curved—the simple gesture a seduction. Even I had to pull myself out of the entrancing thrall of it.

"We must change... adapt," she went on, "if we wish to thrive. Always there are new threats, such as now."

If my heart had been beating at that moment, it might have stopped. "Threats?"

"Surely, you've heard," Mary said.

_Yes. I'd heard._

I said nothing.

"This Cain," Mary said, a growl trembling through the unctuous cream of her voice, "troubles the flock." She let out a puff of a laugh. "I never thought it would happen again..." Her gaze turned sharp, two deadly golden discs. "First, we have the crusader,"—her hand twirled toward me—"with the mighty Raphael at her hand. And now we have Cain... I feel as though I am once more living days that are better left in the past."

"I'm not afraid of Cain," I stated.

"No, because you are strong." Mary moved closer, seeming to float, her vintage pumps not even whispering over the piling of the rug. "The Minister is also strong... stronger now than she has been."

Again, Mary's eyes flicked to Rafe.

His unfortunate history with the Minister had been a major obstacle in my project. Though the Minister continued to preach her gospel of living side-by-side with mortals, searching for that Holy Grail—a cure for vampires—I'd been attempting to convince her to advocate for my work. As well-intentioned as her followers were, many of them were not practicing or had simply given up, finding it too difficult to survive without killing. But if I could bring her around to my way of thinking, at least insofar as offering an alternative to murdering law-abiding mortals...

"All of this Cain business," Mary said, "has revived the Minister's congregation. She has more devotees now than she's had for many years." She smirked. "Nothing fills the pews like fear."

I did my best to remain impassive. "How nice for her."

The gold rings on Mary's fingers clicked softly as she interlaced her fingers. "Come now, Madam Crusader. Don't you see?"

"See?"

She glanced at Rafe again. "Did you know the previous Cain?" she asked him.

His jaw flexed. "I'm not quite that old."

"But you know _of_ him," she asked.

He nodded slightly.

"I knew him," she stated. "Or at least, I had a rather inauspicious encounter with him."

"The former Cain attacked you?" I asked.

"No," she said. "But I caught him, stalking me." Her brow quirked. "You remind me of him."

My throat constricted. "Is that right?"

"Clinging to that last scrap of humanity, morality," she said, amused. "So desperate to find a way to be saved." She gave me a probing look, but I kept my face expressionless. "I almost hated to kill him. Something about him, a certain quality of righteousness. Rare in our kind."

"You killed the last vampire who called himself Cain?" Rafe asked.

Mary smiled, so beautiful, so lethal.

For some reason, the hunger flared in me. I strained against it. I hadn't lost control of my vampiric instincts for years. I wasn't going to start now.

Mary held me entranced by her darkly seductive smile. "You have wanted the Minister to advocate your services to her flock, yes?"

I didn't respond. Mary knew the answer to her question.

"And now she has her devil," Mary said, "in this new Cain. She grows in strength. Her congregation grows. But you see, she needs this devil. And you are such an enterprising young thing, and so compelling. What do they say now? Fighting the good fight? I have a feeling our devil might appreciate your work. Perhaps you could even convince him. You are very persuasive. After all, you swayed _me_. And think of it. If you could bring this new Cain under your influence, imagine the kind of power you might have when it comes to the Minister. This might be the solution you have been seeking with her." She lifted a shoulder. "Just a thought I had. I like you. And I like what you offer. The constancy, the quality, the reliability." She smiled. "Delivery. It's all very convenient. I like this age of convenience. I like to feel as though I am contributing again and not simply taking. I cannot recall feeling that way... ever. It makes one almost feel human again."

"What makes you think this new 'Cain' would listen to me?"

"I don't know that he will. Or even that you might be able to find him. But if you can, you would be doing the Minister quite a favor."

"By stopping him?"

Her lip protruded, disappointed. "No. Of course not."

I frowned. "Then—"

She clapped her hands suddenly. "Think, child. The Minister _needs_ this devil. She does not want him dead. If you could find him, form an alliance with him, as you have with so many others, bring him under your influence, then you would have power also over the Minister. That is what you're after, is it not?"

Beside me, Rafe shifted ever so slightly. I knew what he was thinking, but I didn't want Mary, or anyone else, to know it.

"That's an interesting proposal," I said.

She laughed, a rolling, melodic sound. "Jurisprudence survives even death, I see. Well, it's only a thought," she said. "You haven't much time, I'd guess, either way."

"Time?"

"Don't you know? Some in the Minister's congregation wish to hunt Cain down and end his reign of terror. She calls for temperance, but it is a tenuous balance for her. How can the preacher both condemn the devil and attempt to protect him? Quite tricky."

Remaining impassive was also quite tricky. "Who's going to hunt him?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I have no idea. I only know what the Minister tells me. She calls for restraint, but she knows they grow restless. They are so very afraid, you see. So very. Whoever this new Cain is... he has not long, I fear. Before the wolves come."

"You know it's him," Rafe said.

We sat in the cockpit later that evening, flying home.

I crossed my arms, not speaking.

"If you want to protect him--" he started.

" _If?_ "

He glowered out at the black pitch outside the windscreen. Clouds rolled off the nose of the jet as if we were delving through a horde of gray, grasping phantoms.

"We don't know—" I started.

"Ennis," he growled.

"We don't!"

"He'll be hunted."

I shoved out of my chair. "Don't pretend to care."

"I care about you!" he called after me.

I stormed into the main cabin, dropping into a plush leather seat, gazing out the window—nothing but clouds and endless darkness.

Pink-tinted tears began to blur my vision. My head dropped back against the leather headrest. "Oh, Nico..."
1: This Is Not A Dream

Nico

**W** hen I fed, I dreamt.

That's why it was so dangerous. And why it was the perfect time to kill a vampire.

I dreamt I was at the skate park.

It was one of those perfect spring-almost-summer days. Bright blue sky. Big puffy white clouds. Skate wheels thrummed over concrete and trucks clanged against the rails. Guys were laughing and egging one another on. A breeze cut through my T-shirt and dried the sweat beading on my back.

I closed my eyes for a moment. The sun burned through my eyelids, flickering red and gold. My lips tasted like sun-warmed skin—dry like sand, but saltier.

Then Josh was there. He was chewing gum, smacking on it. Cherry.

His shirt was off, threaded through his belt loop, his hat on backward. He squinted out across the ramps and bowls and the dizzying dance of boarders flying across the pavement and launching into the air, trying to brand their silhouettes into the sky. Just for a heartbeat.

A heartbeat. I touched my chest. A rhythm was there. Deep and steady.

Molly was there, too, on my other side. The wind played with her hair. Black ribbons of it fluttered around her face. She gave me that smile—just a corner of a smile, really. But it was all mine. In her black eyes, a gleam of light, like a distant open doorway.

My heart skipped a beat and then sped up.

With a Sharpie, she drew a black spiral on her palm. As she did, the ink turned red. When she got to the end, the spiral vanished, and she started over again. She never stopped.

I could hear her thoughts.

" _She'll come for me, you know_?" The smile in her big kitten eyes faded. " _But it's not what you think_."

Before I could ask what she meant, Josh dropped his board. The wheels crackled, strangely, like static, and I flinched.

"Countdown."

The air turned cool and damp. "Huh?"

His tone grew harsh, punctuated. "Snap out of it."

Shadows spilled out like oil and flooded the park, polluting it. I turned to Molly, reaching for her, but grabbed only empty air. She was gone.

Everything went black and silver. Cold. There was an echo, the distant thud of a heartbeat. My fingers dug at my chest. A slow, almost painful thump shuddered through me and then... nothing.

Josh swore in my ear.

"They are coming, man. They are coming. Wake the fuck up!"

My eyes flew open. My mouth flooded with heat.

When I'd been alive, blood had a thin, metallic tang, but now, it was the only thing that had any flavor--a rich, complex bouquet. It seeped into my tongue, saturating my body—bright, heavy, acetic, sweet. It hummed and buzzed as if still reverberating with the pulse so recently lost. That missing rhythm.

The ghost of it throbbed through me.

I ripped away from the vampire, still holding her neck, turning her so I could look her in the eye.

She hung slack and stunned in my grip. She was gorgeous, like a vacuous seductress. Her big browns were done in a doe-eyed 1950s pin-up girl fashion, her hair, platinum waved. Vaguely, I wondered if that's when she'd been turned or if she just liked the look. It worked for her. Or it had.

She blinked.

Swallowing back the last burning trickle I'd stolen from her, I swore and ripped the machete from the holster strapped to my thigh.

On the ground, illuminated by the back-porch light behind us, another young woman was sprawled. Dark hair fanned across the rocks of her manicured southwestern yard. Cacti cast spiky shadows on the high stone wall—a nice private spot to get murdered.

I turned my hearing toward her. Her heart was still beating, erratically.

In the distance, sirens.

"You got forty seconds, man," Josh said into my earpiece. Though he was a thousand miles away, he was able to track the approaching ambulance. "Are you listening?"

"I hear you," I croaked, my throat clenching around the blood. The influx left my head light, dizzy, and the rest of my body, heavy, lumbering.

"Douchebags are trying to set a record tonight or something," Josh muttered. "I've been monitoring their response times for months. Four minutes, 20 seconds. That's the average. It hasn't even been three minutes."

I let the Jayne Mansfield-wannabe drop. She fell into a crumpled heap onto the terra-cotta hued pavers that radiated heat though the sun had set long ago. She lay on the ground next to the woman she'd been draining only moments before.

"It's good they're early." I shivered as the blood worked through me. I stepped around the vampire to get a better angle. "The vic doesn't look so good."

"No shit," Josh said.

The wail of sirens flooded the permanent twilight of the Scottsdale night—a block away.

"Twenty seconds," Josh reported. "I hope you got what you needed. Get the fuck out of there."

"What's this one's name?"

"Not this shit again."

"Just tell me."

Josh let out a heavy sigh. "Ruth."

Tires crunched nearby. Brakes squealed. Doors creaked open and slammed shut, echoing. The chatter of a radio accompanied clomping footsteps.

I raised the machete. The heavily mascaraed fringe around Ruth's eyes widened, but she was still limp, still in shock from my attack, my theft, my betrayal. In her eyes, two pale reflections.

Cain. The vampire who kills other vampires.

In other words, me.

Nico.

I raised the machete, gazing steadily into those brown eyes and whatever soul was trapped within them.

"Ruth," I said. "No more cage. You've escaped. Now fly."

And then I cut off her head.
2: I Inhabit the Night

Nico

**"I** s it because you're a vampire?" Josh asked.

"Don't be a prick," I growled, pushing aside a box with my foot.

I flipped the latch on the window and shoved it upwards. A humid gush of late summer air—stale puddles, moldering wooden fences, over-warm garbage cans—swirled around me, chasing away the chill of the air conditioning.

"Is it all part of the I'm-tortured-and-brooding-let-me-recite-you-a-poem-before-I-suck-your-blood act?" He dropped onto the couch with his grocery sack. He pulled a bag of chips out and ripped it open, shoving a handful into his mouth and crunching loudly.

"Who said it was an act?" I shot him a dark look. "Especially the sucking-your-blood part?"

"Down Cujo." He wiped his cheese-dusted hand on his jeans and picked up his laptop. "Just be sure to write an epic poem about how I saved your pasty ass from damnation."

"I don't write poetry," I muttered under my breath, perching on the broad window sill. It creaked under me. I frowned, resisting the urge to rip the window out of its casement and install a decent replacement.

I scanned the huge Victorian houses on the other side of the alley. It was early enough that most of the lights were on. But the yards were deeper than I would've liked, full of weeds and shadows. Cars lined the pot-hole ridden alley and clogged the driveways. Stickers, parking permits, and the college's mascot—a rabid giraffe or badly deformed cheetah—branded most of the cars' windows.

I didn't give a shit about the town or its university. As soon as we were certain that this was where we'd needed to be, I'd offed the vamp in charge and had established a wide perimeter. Far too many of my evenings the last couple of months had been spent pacing around every building and tree in town, marking them. Just another perk of being a vampire.

And as much as I hated to say it, Josh was probably right about the poetry. I'd never felt compelled to read much of anything prior to my damnation eternal, not unless it was for school and, most of the time, not even then. But lately, I found myself wandering the poetry section of every bookstore I encountered. At the moment, I had Poe rolling around in my head, "In visions of the dark night, I have dreamed of joy departed..."

Down the block, a house party. The night air pulsed with the steady beat of maxed-out subwoofers and the rise and fall of drunken conversation and laughter. I did my best to ignore the come-hither musk of youthful lust and vitality wafting from that direction. But it was hard.

I never would have admitted to Josh just how difficult it was not to give in to that dark stranger lurking within. Pencil-thin Man.

He liked killing other vampires--stealing from them. He had a mirthful sense of irony about it that might've been puckish if it weren't clearly psychopathic. But he wanted more. He wanted to let the vampires finish their victims and then take everything. Two deaths for one. Interrupting the kill, calling the paramedics, those were concessions he made, not because my pitiful little soul, the prisoner, pleaded for them, which it did. No, he made them for her.

Molly.

I zeroed in on the house directly across the alley. A rambling three-story that had once been a stately single-family home, built in a time when people had known how to construct a house, and not just stick them together like particleboard Legos. But like most of the old homes in town, this one had been hacked into apartments and abused over the years by feckless, itinerant hordes of college students.

The white paint was peeling. The foundation, sagging. The window frames, rotting. A hideous iron fire-escape had been sutured to the side like some mad scientist's nightmare experiment gone wrong. And there were bats flitting around the eaves.

I'd call the exterminator in the morning. As for the rest, I'd take care of that too. Slowly. I had to be careful. Josh didn't know I'd bought the place last week. But he was always monitoring me. And I hadn't had a chance to go over the paperwork or figure out which apartment Molly had leased.

"Do you have the cameras set up?" I asked.

Josh sighed, his pale face made paler by the wash of computer-light.

"What did we talk about?" he asked and then stuffed another handful of chips into his mouth. While he maintained a rigorous training regimen, he continued to eat as if he knew he would die tomorrow. Which was entirely possible, considering how much he pissed me off.

"I didn't ask to see," I snarled. "I just asked if you had them set up."

"Locked and loaded." He deigned to loft one of those cocky black eyebrows at me. "Don't you have... . fire hydrant to piss on or something? You've been gone for almost a week."

My hands curled into fists. "Is she here yet?"

He closed his laptop and gazed steadily at me though there was no light in the room except from the window behind me.

But Josh could see people's souls. Apparently even in the dark, if he tried. I wasn't sure if that was what he was looking at now, or if he was happy just talking to a shadow. Then again, I _did_ know. Josh didn't trust me. He loved me, in that loyal-as-hell wishing-he-could-save-me-but-knowing-it-was-too-late way, but he never forgot. I could taste it in the air around him. That stinging anxious edge, it tingled and prickled, and that cold metallic tang. He would not hesitate to kill me if he thought that's what needed to happen. Or at least, he would _try_ to kill me.

"Would I be here if she weren't?" he asked me.

I turned obliquely toward the open air again. We were two stories up. Below, the yard was a mess, overgrown, hemmed in by a rusted chain-link fence. But I'd promised Josh I'd lift nary a hedge clipper nor hammer. Restoration... also part of the vampire package. I'd witnessed it with Ennis, but I hadn't understood. It wasn't just something she'd done to while away the hours. The urge to fix and restore and tend to my environment, especially the place I was living was like an itch. And not being able to scratch was setting my teeth on edge.

"Do we need a reminder about how risky this is?" he asked. "There were a lot of shitholes we could've blown our money on in this town."

" _Our_ money?"

He ignored me. "How much vamp mojo did you have to use to get that tweaker to sell you this place? He didn't want to. You made him. And she'll probably end up moving again next year, you know? Then what are we going to do? And she'll move the year after that, and the year after that. Shit, she'll probably move every semester."

He slid his laptop onto the couch next to him and leaned forward. He was definitely seeing me. His black eyes drilled into me. No fear.

"She's going to meet people. She's going to bring guys home. She's going to start dating some polo-wearing business major or bearded philosopher, some fucking brooding poet or, god-forbid, an alt-rock star wannabe, and he's going to be around. Maybe a lot. Maybe they'll start shacking up together. You know, like people do," he said, pausing before adding, " _living_ people."

I held myself motionless, which was a strangely natural thing for me.

Not breathing, not blinking, not emoting. A predator's stillness.

"She can't see you," he said. "She can't know you're here. Those were _your_ rules, remember?"

"I remember."

"I set up the cameras," he said. "Not for you. For her. You're not the only one watching little Miss Molly's back."

Though some part of me knew it was irrational, I tended to dwell in the wilds of less-than-reasonable thinking when it came to Molly.

"Why would you do that?" I asked, my voice lower and more threatening than I intended.

But Josh wasn't fazed. He'd been living with a vampire for two years, hunting with me. He'd almost grown immune to my emotionally manipulative pheromones, though he and our living quarters generally reeked of garlic just the same. Not that he'd ever been flappable. Josh was many things, but fearful was not one of them.

"You protect her from the other vampires," he said. "And _I'll_ protect her from _you_."

I was clenched so tight, the muscles in my chest felt like they might crush my ribcage.

"Don't ruin this for her, man, alright?" he said. "She's about to start college. She's about to get that life. Remember? The one _you_ wanted for her. Sans soul-sucking murderers. I let you get this close because I know it's important for your fragile mental stability to keep an eye on her, and I didn't want you to forget why you're doing what you do. Why you are _who_ you are. Why every vampire on this entire continent fears you."

He leaned back and brought his computer onto his lap again, opening it.

He frowned. "I just got another email from Scott."

I didn't speak. I was too busy fighting the urge to rip his head off.

This was not an idle urge.

"Fucker," he muttered. "He's still refusing to do the research until I tell him why I want it."

I shot up.

Josh didn't even flinch.

"I have to get out of here," I said.

"Before you kill me, you mean?" he said, without looking up from his computer.

"Yes."

"Uh-huh," he said, pretending that his heart rate hadn't just ticked up into the next gear. "Don't get picked up by the cops for public urination. Or the pound for running loose without a collar."

I started toward the door. The house had been subdivided into apartments just like all the others on the block. But since we'd bought it, I'd been residing in the basement apartment and Josh had staked out the second floor. The main floor and the attic apartments had been left empty. Though the Resistance helped us out, most of our funds came from pilfering our victim's assets, which were, more often than not, plentiful. But I also had another account, one I'd opened after I'd closed the one Ennis had set up for me. If Josh knew about it, he hadn't let on.

I tugged open the door but stopped when I heard Josh's pulse lurch a bit and a tick of breath escape his lips—something between a laugh and a puff of disbelief.

When I turned back, he was smirking and shaking his head. A strange combination of scents built around him. I couldn't quite dissect them all, not while I was straining to hold back my fangs. Still, my curiosity was piqued.

"What?" I asked.

He glanced up over the top of the screen. "Guess who just got sprung from the hoosegow."
3. Jail and Bait

Molly

**T** he fan groaned as it oscillated, churning the swampish air, cooling it, perhaps, a degree.

I sat on the scuffed hardwood with my back to the plaster, both of which were damp. My water bottle was sweating almost as much as I was as if we were racing to see which could leave the bigger puddle on the floor. I had really been hoping that once the sun went down, the air would cool off, but it was past ten and it seemed, impossibly, hotter.

I picked up the letter again, unfolding it. The paper had weight. It wasn't the cheap-o copy paper my former high school had used—this paper had texture. The official university letterhead was bold and left a deep impression. From the Dean of Students herself. My special request to live off campus as a freshman had been granted. A stipend from my scholarship for housing costs was enclosed.

It had been great news. The thought of living in the dorms had been giving me panic attacks for months. But the thing was... I hadn't put in a request to live off campus. I hadn't even known it was possible to ask, especially since I was on scholarship.

My fingers ran over the imprint of black ink as if I could absorb some more information by touching the words. I was sorely tempted to make an appointment with the Dean so I could read her mind. So I could confirm what I hoped was true.

Nico had done this. He'd used his vamp powers on the Dean and gotten me out of the mind-reader's hell of a freshman dorm. Not that I wouldn't have been able to block all those anxious young-adult thoughts out, but with a roommate, I never would've been able to let my guard down. And that would've been exhausting. I'd already made a plan to spend my first week in town, not staking out the best underage clubs or the cutest guys or the quickest routes between my classes, but the most secluded spots in the library, at the parks... anyplace I might be able to let my walls down for a few minutes.

But Nico had taken care of it.

I couldn't think of any other way that it could've happened.

Unless I'd acquired some other vamp stalker who knew how much I was dreading the residence hall experience or just didn't like the idea that I would be surrounded by hundreds of potential witnesses. Probably not good to have your prey constantly lost in a crowd, I guessed. It was possible. I had no proof that Nico had been watching me the last couple of years. As much as I'd been searching for it.

And I had.

I _wanted_ to believe it.

More than anything.

I knew I was supposed to be moving on, letting go, living that normal life I'd been so damned sanctimonious about. But knowing it hadn't made it happen.

A rap on my door.

I flinched, my heart leaping into a race.

I remained on the floor for a few breaths, trying to convince myself that someone was knocking on one of my neighbor's doors, not mine.

As happy as I was to have my own place—my own honest-to-goddess college apartment, derelict as it was—I was still a nineteen-year-old girl in a brand-new town who'd had one too many brushes with death in her lifetime. Unannounced nighttime visitor? Not exactly a welcome occurrence.

Another knock, this one harder.

Slowly, I pushed to my feet. My tank, my shorts, my hair, clung to my skin. The soles of my feet slipped in my plastic, dollar-store flip-flops.

I didn't have any lamps, or even any furniture, except for the mattress I'd found at Goodwill, which a really kind employee had dropped off in his pick-up. There'd been a box spring, but I'd passed on it and had just thrown the mattress on the floor. At the moment, I was grateful for my lack of furnishings. Since the living room had no overhead lights and I'd only left the light on over the stove, there wasn't any obvious evidence I was home. Or maybe that was a bad thing. Then again, burglars didn't usually knock, did they?

I edged into the kitchen, eyeing the door—an outside entrance, leading onto a rickety porch and perilous set of stairs. I could hear the planks squeak under the feet of my visitor.

_Screw it_ , I thought, about to drop my barriers. But before I could read the potential intruder's thoughts...

"Just read my mind already, Molly! Open the freakin' door!"

My mouth dropped open. I rushed to the door, sliding the chain, flipping the deadbolt, and then wrenching it open.

A pair of luminescent blue eyes flashed at me.

Gia grinned. "Miss me?"

"Holy shit!" I threw my arms around her, in spite of my general sweaty ickiness.

She hugged me back, crushingly, though she was shorter and skinnier. She'd hacked her hair off, shaved on one side and sculpted in thick dark waves on the other. The tips, dyed bright red, tapered toward her chin.

"When did you get out?" I said, pulling back, blinking away my tears. "Why didn't you call?"

"I _did_ call." She plucked at my chin, not bothering to wipe her own tears. "That foster lady gave me your new addy." She stepped in past me, gazing around. "College kid, huh?" She spun and smacked my butt. "That's my girl."

I shut the door, locking it again. "I thought the appeal..."

She strolled around the kitchen, opening the cabinets—empty—and the growling refrigerator circa 1959—also empty.

"Yeah. Things were looking pretty bleak." She flipped on the bathroom light, disappearing inside for a few moments. Her voice drifted out from the bathroom, echoey. "That DA was a real hard-ass."

The toilet flushed. The sink ran. She reappeared, leaving the light on behind her, seeming to inspect every crack in the wall and spider web fluttering in the corners. At the other end of the kitchen was the living room. Off of that was a "bedroom"—more of a nook, as it had no wall dividing it from the living room. The queen-sized mattress pretty much filled it.

"I'm so sorry, Gia," I said, hanging behind her.

She glanced back at me, arching an eyebrow. Though her hair had obviously been recently done and her clothes were nicer than mine, she had a lean, hard look that was distinctly... rough.

"What for?" she said. "Prison wasn't so bad. Got fed every day. Met some _really_ interesting people." She leaned against the threshold. "Frankly, it was a lot nicer than this dump. No offense."

I smiled a little. "Better than that campground in Florida though, right?"

"I'm not convinced that was a real campground. Pretty sure the locals were funneling schmuck tourists to the gators."

I chuckled. "How did you get out?"

"Good question," she said, straightening up. "I thought maybe you might have a very pale boyfriend around who could explain the DA's sudden decision to drop all charges."

My heart plummeted. My good humor died.

"Guess not," she said before I could respond. "Still haven't heard from him?"

I shook my head and shuffled over to a cardboard box by the stove. I pulled out another Goodwill find, a coffee mug. Not that I had a coffeemaker, but I was on the lookout for a decent one. I filled the mug at the sink and held it out to her.

She took it, joining me at the counter. I'd almost forgotten just how blue her eyes were--like they had their own stadium lights blazing behind them.

"Dave was a vampire," she said to me under her breath.

Instinctively, my hand went to my neck and the two small, bumpy scars there. "I know."

"I don't care that they found a body or that they did an autopsy, that they buried him," she said more strongly, her eyes growing a bit hot, a bit... unfocused. "He was a vampire."

"I know," I said again. I grabbed her wrist, drawing her attention back to me. " _I know_."

A furrow appeared on her brow. "Then what the fuck?" she asked, clunking the mug down, water sloshed on the laminate. "Why didn't he turn to dust? Why was there a body for that shit-licker DA to hold over my head?"

My hand slid away. My voice was soft. "I don't know."

She picked up the mug, downed the water, and then set it in the sink. "Have you heard from the Resistance?" she asked, a glint of hope in her eyes. "Josh?"

I shook my head. "Not since... you know, right after."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "Well, I guess we'd better go find a party."

I stepped back. "I can't."

"Why not? You're a college girl now, isn't that what you're supposed to do? I saw one right down the street. Let's go..."—grin spreading—"study."

"Study what exactly?"

She leveled a very serious look at me. Serious for Gia anyway, which was borderline manic. "You're not afraid, are you?"

I crossed my arms. "Of course, I'm afraid, Gia. I'm vampire catnip, remember?"

"There's not going to be any vampires there," she said with certainty.

"You can't know that."

"And you can't know there will be," she shot back. "Are you seriously going to hide out in this shitty apartment every night? Is _that_ what you call living?" She gripped my arms. "I have been locked up in the pen for two years, sister. I need some drunk, college-boy action and that's just to start."

I ground my teeth. I had no problem with Gia going out and getting all the attention she needed. I was sure she wouldn't have any trouble. Two years in prison may have steeled her, but she was no less beautiful. In fact, something about her under-fed look made her seem all the more wild and breath-taking, like a lean jungle panther.

Her hands were hot, they cupped my face. "Do you think I would let anything happen to you, baby sister? Huh? Ever?"

No. I didn't. Even if our stepdad hadn't been a vampire, which he had, regardless of the corpse that seemed to suggest otherwise, Gia would have stabbed him if he'd laid a single finger on me. But he never had. At least, not until he'd sunk his fangs into my neck.

She stepped back, flashing that blinding smile at me. It had been so long since I'd seen it; I'd forgotten how dazzling it could be.

"Come on," she prodded, "just an hour. Just one drink. To celebrate my freedom. Then I promise, I won't drag you out again. I won't even ask." She made an _X_ on her chest. "Cross my heart."

I sighed. " _One_ hour."

Her smile broadened.

"Let me change," I said, shuffling back toward the living room.

"Change?" she said after me. "Baby sister, you could wear my nasty orange prison jumpsuit and look better than all those waxed, plastic cherries I passed out there. I don't know what happened to fashion while I was locked up, but... seriously? Just because everybody else is doing it, does not mean you should fall into step with the future Stepford Wives while they march into yet another fashion disaster. Save yourself, save the whole of humanity, have an original thought, please!"

I rolled my eyes as Gia ranted, but was smiling as I dug a clean T-shirt out of my suitcase. Once, all I'd wanted was to get away from Gia. But the real reason I was going out with her tonight, in spite of my fear of acquiring a new vampire stalker, was because I just wanted to be around her again.

With my shoulder, I wiped a tear from my cheek. My sister was reckless and a little crazy, but she was the only sister I had. And I'd missed her.
4. The Twisted Odd Couple

Nico

**"I** f I told you to calm down, how likely would you be to rip out my throat?"

In response, I smashed my fist through the drywall.

"What's that, like vampire sign language or something?" Josh asked, acting unperturbed.

But I knew better.

His heart was thudding so loudly it was almost as deafening as the speakers from the obnoxious house party I'd been forced to skulk around all night.

I wrenched my fist out from the hole, sending up a puff of dust. If I'd needed to breathe more often, I might've coughed. My knuckles were split. Gaping crimson cuts. Blood oozed out, slow and thick... old, stolen.

"I'm going to go ahead and let you patch that hole," he said, rubbing his eyes.

Though he'd pretty much become as nocturnal as I was, come three or four, he was generally yawning and bleary-eyed. In the kitchen behind him, a bare bulb pushed yellow light wearily against the shadows. But already the night was losing its hold on the sky. I could feel sunrise in my marrow—a vaguely unpleasant ache as if I were coming down with the flu.

"I told you this was going to happen," Josh said. "You knew--"

"This is _her_ fault." I sneered, shaking the dust from my arm. "Molly would never have stayed out all night on her own. How the hell did Gia even get out—?"

Just as my vampire senses were pushing through my rage to alert me to footsteps outside the front door, the bell rang.

The pleasant ding-ding echoed through the empty house. The sound stalled out my anger with its eerie normalcy.

I turned and wrenched open the door.

Gia flashed that blinding smile at me. "Long time no see, lover boy." She strode right by me into the living room. "Josh, you look good." She stopped in the middle of the room and performed a slow, studious turn.

Josh blinked as if trying to wake from a dream.

I gave the door a shove, letting it slam shut. The fanlight panel shuddered, threatening to crack.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" I snapped at her.

She shot me that smile again, only this time it was sharper. She knew exactly what I was pissed off about.

"I was thinking," she said, "that if I convinced little sis to crawl out of her hole for the evening, you'd show up. And you did." Her expression grew cool, her scent metallic and slightly fissuring—the way the air smells right after a lightning strike. "I knew you were around. I knew you couldn't leave her alone." She threw a glance over her shoulder at Josh. "I suspected that you were around too, because of the cameras."

He scowled. "How'd you spot the cameras?"

She rolled her eyes. "Please." She half-turned toward him again, edging a bit closer, her finger at his face like she was going to poke his cheek. "But you're not a vampire."

He batted her hand away. "Hell no, woman. What are you doing here?"

My fury was sinking into my belly. I strode away from the door, picking through the scents in the room.

"She came here to kill me," I said.

She reached back and whipped a hunting knife from the sheath tucked into the back of her waistband. "Well, I did tell you that's what would happen if you broke my sister's heart, didn't I?"

Josh let out a heavy breath. "It is way too late for this shit."

"I don't get it," she said, talking to Josh, though her fierce blue eyes were fixed on me like she knew the minute she blinked I'd disarm her. Something about her had changed since I'd last seen her. She was more... dangerous.

" _I_ don't get what you're doing here," Josh snapped back.

"He's a vampire," she said to him. "I thought you hunted vampires. And now I find you living with one? What is this...? The twisted _Odd Couple_?"

"I don't have to explain shit to you," he sneered.

She was staring at me. The knife was perfectly poised, perfectly ready. Someone had learned a few things while she'd been locked up. Although I was pretty sure knife-wielding wasn't a part of the federal prison system's rehabilitation program.

"God, look at you," she said to me. "You were hot before, but... holy hell. You're, like, unreal now."

It was no compliment. Rather, it was a statement of fact, slightly awed maybe, but she was in no way attracted to me. She was in full protector mode. And that might've been the only thing stopping me from ripping the knife out of her hand and throwing her into the street. She loved Molly and she was willing to do anything to keep her safe.

So that made two of us.

"Can we talk about this like..."—Josh yawned—"later?"

"You've been watching her," Gia said to me.

I didn't answer.

"Protecting her?" she asked. "The way your sister protected you."

I might have twitched, because Gia flinched.

"Would you put that shit away?" Josh said to her, gesturing to the knife. "Did you forget your first lesson, grasshopper? Vampire, strong. You, not."

"He won't hurt me," she said, a wicked gleam in her eye. "What would that do to Molly? She would never, _ever_ forgive you."

The tension drained from my body.

She nodded and then slid the knife back into its sheath. "Okay. We'll talk, later. Where can I sleep?"

Josh dug his fingers into his eyes. "Are you kidding me? Does this look like the Hilton?"

"No, it looks worse than Molly's rattrap." She folded her arms and fixed her gaze on Josh. "You have a bed, don't you?"

His eyes narrowed at her. "I'm not giving you my bed."

"Didn't you ever learn how to share?"

"Only child."

Her face softened. "I'm sorry about your mom. I really liked her."

And she meant it.

Josh groaned, his head dropping back. "Fuck," he muttered. "The bed's upstairs. I'll couch it."

"Why didn't you say there was a couch?" she said. "I'll take it. Unless you want to cuddle."

"Cut that shit out, will you?" Josh said, shuffling back toward the hallway. Off the back door was a shared foyer that served as the main entrance for all four floors of apartments.

"Why are you such a prude?" she asked, trailing him.

"Just because I'm not a man-whore doesn't make me a prude."

"Touchy."

Their voices drifted away as they disappeared through the doorway and their footfalls thumped against the groaning stairs.

Though there was precious little night left, I left out the front door, slipping around back, across the alley.

Even in a quaint university town like this, the ambient glow of the streetlights kept the night from intruding fully. And the ever-present rumble of car engines and early-morning delivery trucks, traffic lights clicking as they cycled, the hum of electricity, air conditioners huffing and buzzing, some far-off whoop of an intoxicated party-goer—the last man standing—it all filled my head and reminded me of what I wasn't, of what I would never be. That is, a part of this... the rhythms of life revving and ticking and exclaiming around me.

Dew soaked my sneakers and the hems of my jeans as I cut through the shadows of the yard. The landlord of this place really needed to do something about the lawn.

I stole up the steps, moving so fast and light that the rotting wood didn't have a chance to protest. One more thing that needed to be addressed. And then I was outside her door.

I pressed my hand to wood and leaned my forehead against it.

I closed my eyes and shut out everything else. After a moment, I could hear her... breathing. Deeply. Asleep.

I drew a breath—though I didn't really need it, not so much of it—and held it in, drowning in the scent of her. So...alive.

I wanted in. So badly.

But the weathered door was there, between us, reminding me.

You are not a part of this. Not a part of her.

Not alive.

Wolf.

You can't come in.
5. Something Red

Josh

**S** he dropped onto the bed next to me, waking me from a shitty dream.

About my mom.

They were always about my mom.

"What the fuck?" I groaned, squinting against the light slicing through the cheap vinyl blinds.

Next to me, Gia smelled like whatever fruity gum she was chewing. Something red.

"It's later," she said, stretching in a stupidly sexy way, all fingers to toes. "Time to talk."

I rolled onto my back and threw my arm over my face. "Talk about how to get you out of my bed?"

"What's the deal? You suck vamp cock now or what?"

"Tsk. Tsk. Is that the kind of language they teach in America's prisons these days? What is the world coming to?"

"What have you found out about my sister? About her soul?"

I sighed and let my arm slide away from my eyes. I stared up at the crack in the ceiling. That was it. Nico could go vamp-Bob Vila on this place. I was sick of living in squalor.

"I haven't found out anything," I said, glancing over at her.

More gum smacking in my ear. Was there a more annoying sound in the world?

"What? You haven't even tried?"

"Of course I've tried. I'm still trying. There's this guy, Scott. He lives in New Jersey. He has all the journals. All the research. But he knows what I'm doing with Nico. He doesn't trust me."

An intense blue-hued gaze. "And what are you doing with Nico?"

I explained to her, about Cain, about killing other vampires, about watching out for Molly all this time.

She rolled onto her side, propping up on her elbow, chewing and chewing. I was sorely tempted to grab her face and snatch the gum out of her mouth.

"So..." she said when I was done, "Nico's like his sister?"

"No," I said. "Ennis kills people. Nico only takes out vamps. He hasn't killed anyone living. Not since we started this. We've saved them all."

I shoved out of the bed and kicked through the clothes strewn on my floor, finding a pair of jeans that weren't stiff with grime.

"Hell, you're hot," she said behind me. "Have you always been this ripped?"

I rolled my eyes as I zipped up. "If you're looking for a boy-toy"—I snagged a T-shirt off the floor—"you got a whole town full of them right outside. Take your pick."

She flopped back, exposing a bit of her navel as she stretched on my bed. "Every boy is a toy if you know how to play with them."

I snorted as I tugged on my shirt. "I am not a toy."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Well-oiled machine, Red," I said. "DSR-50 sniper rifle..."

My hands flexed. My palms ached. I would've loved to get my hands on that gun. I shook the urge away; it was taking my mind to hungry places it didn't need to be, especially around Gia.

"You are such a weirdo," she said. "So, this Scott guy, in New Jersey. He can help us figure out why my sister is a vamp magnet?"

"Maybe." I dropped to my knee, fishing my laptop out from under the bed. "I've been emailing him for years. He's a real recluse. And he definitely doesn't want any vamps showing up at his door."

I plunked onto the bed again, flipping open my computer, downing the last of the water in my bottle while it booted up.

"Why are you doing it? This Cain thing sounds..."

"Righteous?"

"Cold-blooded," she said, though there was a tone of approval in her voice. "But... can you really trust him? He's a vampire."

"It's not about trusting him," I said, clicking on my inbox. "It's about finally killing some vampires."

"What about Rafe?"

I lost focus for a second.

"He was the one who killed your mom," she said.

I blinked, struggling to read the words on the screen in front of me. "I know. Nico told me." I glanced back at her. "He wants Rafe dead as much as I do."

Her eyebrows rose. "But?"

"But... Ennis," I growled.

She nodded. "Baby brother can't off big sis, huh? Well,"—she scooted back and leaned against the wall—"I guess it's good to know the sibling code persists even among monsters."

"Nico would kill Rafe if Ennis weren't in the way."

"Are you sure about that?" she asked.

I frowned. "He hates Rafe, trust me."

"Yeah, but can you trust Nico? I mean, whatever he used to be..." She stopped chewing, gaze falling for a moment, before rising again, harder than before. "He's a vampire now."

I gazed at her for a long moment. "Rafe will be eliminated, one way or the other." I turned back to my computer screen. Lots of chatter from the Resistance. I scrolled through it. "There's no reason to rush. He's not getting any older. And since he's playing strongman in Ennis's little operation, they've been pretty easy to keep tabs on."

The bed bounced slightly as she shifted closer. "You mean, she's still snagging ex-cons and bleaching their souls, keeping them caged up, selling them?"

I lifted an eyebrow at her. "Scared?"

Her face hardened. "The only reason I didn't end up vamp chum is because of your mom."

A sharp twinge wrenched at my breastbone, but outwardly, I was neutral. "Ennis won't touch you for the same reason that Nico won't."

"You really think Molly is enough to keep them from—"

"Yeah," I cut in, "I do. In fact, I'm counting on it." Just as I turned back to my inbox, another email arrived. From hermit Scott. "Well, hello," I murmured as I clicked on it.

I read it.

Then I read it again.

"Fuck," I muttered.

"What?"

"He's willing to talk," I said, hardly believing it though the words were right in front of me.

_Meet me_.

"Who?"

"Scott... info guy. He says he's found something..."

She sat up straight. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's haul ass to New Jersey."

I frowned at her. "And leave Nico alone with Molly?" I turned back to my computer screen, but I wasn't really looking at it.

"He won't hurt her," she said, skirting on asking.

"No..."

"But you think he'll try to turn her?" she asked, resting her chin on my shoulder like she'd been granted permission for such close contact. The girl had serious boundary issues. But I didn't shrug her off. For some stupid reason.

"Let me go," she said. "I'll talk to this Scott guy."

I shook my head. "That's like using a lawn mower to weed the flowers. Scott is touchy... he won't talk to just anyone."

"Then you go, I'll stay."

"No offense, but the only person touchier than Scott might be Nico."

I clicked on the footage from last night, fast forwarding through it until I got to the time frame right after Gia and I had come upstairs.

Four different frames appeared on the screen.

Frame one: Black and white. Close up, Nico leaving the house. Frame two: farther away, darting across the alley, through the yard, up the stairs. Frame three: Close again, standing outside Molly's door.

Behind me, Gia tensed. Her gum stopped smacking. Her teeth clicked together.

"He loves her," I said as we watched him press his forehead against Molly's door, his fingers raking down the wood.

"If he hurts her...if he tries to turn her," she said softly, "I _will_ kill him."

I watched Nico, frozen in freaky vampire motionlessness while the time signature in the corner of the screen continued to tick.

"I'll help you," I murmured. 
6. Mission

Nico

**T** he sledgehammer hit the wall with a satisfying _crack_! Plaster dust and god-knows-what clouded the air.

But I wasn't worried about sucking down asbestos or a century's worth of petrified mouse turds. Even though I still needed to breathe. I could hold my breath for an hour before I felt the urge to inhale. Sometimes I did it just to experience the burn of my lungs, that faint hint of life.

Josh and I had timed my respiratory rate—a breath every five minutes, slightly more if I was active, but still a fraction of his. The same with my heartbeat. And yet, my lungs and heart were functioning... in a way.

I'd allowed Josh to take samples of "my" blood and skin and spit. But the moment these fluids left me, they dusted. Nothing remained that anyone could stick under a microscope. One of the hunters had sent Josh an email requesting that I come into her lab for testing, but Pencil-thin Man had no interest in being a Guinea Pig.

Grabbing the jagged edge of the hole, I yanked plaster from the wall, exposing the studs and old damp foundation—water and radiator pipes. I inspected some frayed wiring—chewed by the mice. A strange surge of satisfaction came over me at the thought of ripping everything out, replacing it all. Being a vampire just got weirder and weirder.

"Ewww," Gia said, as she clomped down the stairs.

I turned to the next wall and bashed the sledgehammer into it. "I wouldn't come down here," I said to her.

"Why? Going to bite me?" she asked.

I stepped back from the wall and pointed to the pile of plaster behind me. "Mold."

She hesitated on the steps, her lip curled. Josh pushed by her, undeterred.

"Got another mission for you." He downed the last of the green-coffee energy drink he'd become addicted to since we'd moved here. His laptop was tucked under his arm.

I rested the sledgehammer against the wall. "Where have you two been all day?"

Gia's smile lit up the dark living room, or what was left of it. "Crossbow training."

Josh slid his laptop onto the tiny island that served to divide the kitchen from the living room. "Ever been to North Carolina?"

"I just got back." I gestured to the hole in the wall. "I'm in the middle of something."

His gaze slid up to meet mine. "Are you _really_ telling me you'd rather renovate?"

Actually, I was more concerned about the renovations at Molly's. The ones I had to hire out for. I hated having to take care of everything over the phone and via email. But at least I was close enough to keep track of things. North Carolina was too far away to make sure the siding and roofing guys were keeping their eyes on their nail guns and not on her. The exterminator was across the street at that very moment.

Gia stomped down the rest of the groaning wooden steps—I'd be knocking those out too, soon enough. "So how does this work anyway?" she asked.

I kept my gaze fixed on Josh, though he was watching his computer screen. "Are we really bringing her into this?"

"Bringing me?" she repeated. "Pretty sure I've been in this, lover boy. For a while now."

"One more set of eyes on Molly," Josh stated without looking up. "Didn't think you'd argue with that."

And, of course, I couldn't.

"Got a heads up from the hunter in Asheville," he said, falling into commando mode—matter-of-fact and cool as steel. "Her vamp's triangulating. She's pretty sure the kill is coming in the next few days. Are you there or not?"

"Triangulating?" Gia asked.

"Right before a kill, a vampire's behaviors change. For a long time, they just watch their potential victims. They tend to follow a predictable pattern. Surveillance. But right before they intend to kill their vic, their patterns change. They stake out routes, in and out, they move in closer, test alarms the vic might have on their house or car..."

Gia sneered. "Eww," she said again, only this time with a deadly tang.

"When that starts to happen," he went on, professorial, "the hunter in the area shoots me a message. Nico goes in and does the sniff test."

Before she could ask, I explained, "A vampire's scent changes in the days right before they kill."

Josh nodded. "If Cain scents an imminent kill, he waits until they strike and then moves in mid-kill."

"Why not stop them beforehand?" she asked.

"Man's got to survive, doesn't he?" Josh replied. "Nico needs the fresh blood too."

Her pulse skipped a beat. "But you haven't let any of them die?"

"You'd be surprised how much blood the human body can lose and still survive," I told her. "I listen to the victims' bodies. To their pulses. Their breathing. I can tell when they're about to reach the point of no return. I stop it before it comes to that."

"And as soon as Nico moves in," Josh said, "he gives me the signal. I call the local cavalry while Nico drains the vamp of their freshly acquired plasma. Then he offs the vamp and books it out of there."

She eyed me. "And that's how you've been surviving the last two years?"

I gazed impassively back at her. She was hiding something. I could smell the tinny stink of deception under her baby-powder scented deodorant, her sugary cherry gum, the dried musk of sweat on her sun-kissed skin, the thick hot aroma of her blood. Every person carried with them a cacophony of scents. If I let myself get too entangled in them, it could be overwhelming.

I wondered if that's how it was for Molly—when she was reading someone's mind.

God, I missed her. I missed hearing her thoughts, knowing just what she wanted and needed. I missed the scent of her. Her kitten eyes and shy smile. I missed everything about her.

Gia was still watching me as if she were the mind reader. Maybe another trip out-of-town was a good idea.

"Plane?" I asked Josh.

"Already got the ticket booked for tonight," he said. "Redeye." He lofted a brow at me. "Your favorite time to fly."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Gia asked. "Don't you worry that you'll get... I don't know... stopped by security for not having a pulse?"

"Since when does the TSA check your blood pressure?" I asked.

"Not that it matters," Josh said, closing his laptop. "Nico has ninja powers."

Gia was watching me again. I was starting to wonder if Josh wanted her around to have another set of eyes on Molly, or me.

"I sent you the relevant info," Josh said, picking up his computer and his empty bottle. "Call me when you get a read on the guy." He started back toward the stairs.

"Well, I guess I'll go check in on lil' sis," Gia said, never taking her eyes off of me.

"You can't tell her we're here," I said to her.

Her head tilted. Her tone took on a deadly edge. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Josh stepped between us before I forgot that killing her would devastate Molly.

"Now, now, children," he said, "play nice." He gestured at the stairs with his bottle. "Off you go, Red."

Gia gripped the banister, never looking away from me. "I just want to make sure we're all on the same page," she said. "Molly's not a part of this anymore. She's living a nice, normal life, and we all want to make sure it stays that way." Her eyes narrowed. "Right?"

Heat flared around Josh—a rare flicker of irritation. "Of course," he growled at her. "Ass. Stairs. Now."

But she didn't budge. "I want to hear him say it."

"Why?" I asked. "Don't you know all vampires are liars?"

Fear—acidic like vinegar—wafted off of them.

Pencil-thin Man smiled.

And about this, I'm not lying... a shadow of his expression might have crept onto my face.

If you want me to pretend that I didn't enjoy spooking the little pigs every now and then... sorry. Sure, I remembered the affection I'd had for Josh when I was alive, but I can't actually say I felt it anymore. There didn't seem to be room for it. I cared about exactly two things.

Blood and Molly. Nothing else mattered.

"I would never do anything that Molly didn't want," I stated.

And that was the truth. But how would they know? They couldn't smell it, the way I could. They couldn't read my mind. Not even Molly could do that anymore.

If they were smart, they'd think I was lying. They'd never trust me. Not completely.

I'd learned that lesson with Rafe. He'd told me, but I hadn't wanted to believe it... not about him.

But now I knew.

Never, _ever_ trust a vampire.
7. Gloria Gaynor Forgive Me

Molly

**I** stared blankly at the sheaves of paper littering my countertop.

My class schedule, a book list, a different colored sheet for every department, club, and organization in the university. Forms that _had_ to be signed, forms that I could sign if I was interested, forms that nobody could possibly understand the necessity of—a whole rainforest worth of paperwork. And most of it was available online anyway. So I wasn't entirely clear why any of it also needed to manifest in physical form and take over my otherwise clutter-free apartment. I mean, destitute is a kind of modern-shabby chic, right?

_Bang!_

I flinched. My gaze shot to the bathroom, the back of the house. The exterminator, I assumed. He'd told me that he'd be up on the roof, looking into the bat problem.

Earlier, he'd knocked on my door and asked if he could inspect my apartment. I might not have let him in, except the night before I'd received an email from the property management company that someone would be stopping by.

Sighing, I began sorting the papers.

I kept waiting for the excitement to appear. After all, I'd defied the odds, and death, made up all my school work, graduated high school, landed a full scholarship to a good university. I was supposed to be happy.

_Be happy, damn it._

Nothing.

I was numb.

No matter what I did. It didn't seem to make a difference.

A knock on the door.

"Special delivery!" Gia called.

I unlocked and opened the door. Gia barreled in, arms full of paper grocery sacks.

"God, do you smell that?" she said as she plopped the groceries onto my papers. "I think you have a skunk living under the house."

I rushed forward, pulling the papers out from under the groceries. "Where have you been?"

She smiled. "Miss me?"

Smoothing the papers, I slid them on top of the refrigerator, out of the line of fire, I hoped. "I was worried," I said.

She waved me off and began to pull boxes and cans from the bags. "I found a guy to crash with."

I frowned. "You slept with some random guy?"

She rolled her eyes. "I said crashed, not fucked."

The tension eased from my shoulders slightly.

She held up a box of cherry Pop-Tarts. "Look what I got. Your favorite."

"That's _your_ favorite."

She opened one of the cabinets and slid the box inside. She held out a carton of eggs to me. I took them. My skin seemed to sigh as I opened the fridge and a cool wave of air washed over me. I slid the eggs onto the wire rack but didn't close the door right away.

It was strange how a single carton of eggs made an empty refrigerator suddenly seem... real.

Tears burned my eyes.

Gia edged up beside me and slid a container of milk and a pint of strawberries into the fridge too.

I swallowed, my throat tight and painful. But it was too late to hide my tears.

Her fingers brushed a few stray strands of hair away from my face, behind my ear.

"What's up?" she asked softly.

I closed the refrigerator and wiped the tears from my cheeks. "Nothing."

She crossed her arms. "Bullshit."

"It's just... hard."

Her eyebrow rose. "College life seems pretty cake to me, the squashy fluffy kind-angel food."

Edging around her, I went to the grocery sacks, emptying them. "How'd you pay for all this?".

"Oh, don't pull that evasive shit on me," she said. "You need to tell me what's wrong."

A box of dried pasta in one hand and a container of yogurt—cherry, of course—in the other, I turned to face her. "That's the problem," I said. "Nothing's wrong. I've got it all, right? I'm winning. I could've been in prison with you... I _should've_ been."

"You didn't do anything—"

I plunked the pasta down on the counter. "Neither did you."

She leaned back against the fridge, smiling that devil-may-care smile. And I envied her. After everything, after fighting off vampires and being locked up for the last two years--wrongfully--she was still Gia. Still blinding smiles and bright blue eyes and cherry-red lips. My sister was indomitable. Hurricane Gia. Always a force to be reckoned with.

"Sure, I did," she stated. "I killed a vampire."

I dug into the grocery sacks, pulling out what remained. "You saved my life... twice."

"Too bad I didn't get there in time to save Mom," she said ruefully.

Pain knotted in my chest, but I blinked back the tears. I didn't want to cry anymore. I was so sick of it.

"Yeah..." I murmured, bringing a jar of fruit juice over to the fridge. "I miss her."

"Me too," Gia said, taking the juice from me. "I keep thinking I'll miss her less, but every time I think about her, it hurts just the same as it did. And I think about her all the time." Tears glimmered in her eyes, the sheen making their color impossibly bluer, intensifying it. "How she always snorted when she laughed."

I smiled a little. "And screamed like a little kid whenever she saw a moth."

Gia chuckled, plucking the tears from the rims of her eyes with her fingertips. "Even the teeny tiny ones."

"How she loved anything with roses..." I choked up again.

She hugged the juice to her chest and leaned a shoulder against the fridge. "Did you know they threw out all our stuff? Like all her clothes and pictures... everything?"

I nodded because I couldn't speak.

"I don't even have any online," she said, tears streaking down her cheeks. "I never posted a single freakin' picture of her... What kind of daughter was I?"

"A great one," I said. "Nobody could make Mom snort like you."

A weak smile pulled at her lips.

"And nobody was like her," I murmured. "Nobody will ever be like her. She's just gone. And we're still here. But... I'm not the same without her, you know?"

Gia nodded, sniffling.

I took the juice jar back from her and edged her aside so I could open the fridge. I slid the jar in. It was nowhere close to full, but it wasn't totally empty either, not anymore. I guess I should've been glad, but for some reason, I just wanted to pull everything out again.

But this was my life. This was my fridge. And I had to eat. Because I was alive... mostly.

"Some people just... take you with them," I said softly. "When they go, you're not the same. There's just who you were before and who you are now, after."

"We're not talking about Mom now, are we?" she asked.

I closed the fridge and met her gaze, my tears drying in my eyes. "I'm fine," I said.

"I think you just broke the bullshit meter."

My jaw clenched. "Things are going really good for me, right? I mean,"—I gestured upwards—"roof. School. Food in the fridge." I offered a tight smile. "Sister."

Her eyes narrowed. "You'll always have me," she said strongly, "no matter what."

"So I'm just... fine," I said. "Right?"

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze. "Right," she said. "You know what we are, girl?"

"Sweaty?"

"Survivors."

I cringed, pulling away. "Oh god, please don't sing the song—"

But it was too late. Gia broke into an off-key rendition of _I Will Survive,_ belting it out, dancing across the cracked, discolored vinyl.

I covered my face as she sang over me. "My neighbors are _so_ going to call the cops."

She shimmied around me, singing and bumping me with her butt.

"...I will survive!"

She grabbed my hand and twirled me.

And for the first time, in a long time, I laughed.
8. All Day All Night

Josh

**"H** appy now?" I asked as we idled in the airport's parking lot.

Nico shut the computer on the recorded footage of Gia and Molly dancing and singing. He actually looked paler than before—somehow. And I didn't need to be a mind reader or have vampire sniffing powers to know some part of my already-dead friend had died a little bit more. But he was the one who'd insisted on checking up on her, just one more time before he left.

He slid my laptop into the case resting between his feet and sat back, slowly. He'd gotten pretty good at mimicking a normal human pace.

"Will Gia stay with her?" he asked flatly.

"I think so," I said. "Gia's not exactly a planner."

His gaze slid over to me. He had contacts in. They made his eyes a regular old shade of hazel. He almost looked like his old self when he wore them. Almost.

But I never forgot what he was.

Never.

"You got Gia out, didn't you?" he asked, though it didn't really sound like he was asking.

I shifted in my seat, glancing at the clock on the dash. His flight didn't leave for another hour and a half. It was going to be a long night.

"Am I the one with stupefying pheromone powers?" I asked.

He continued to watch me. "Why?"

"Why didn't you get her out?" I asked. "Didn't you think that's what Molly would want? Or maybe that's why you didn't do it. Because you knew what would happen." I notched my chin toward my laptop. "Were you afraid if Gia was around, Molly might start to act like one of the living again?" I sank into my seat, moderating my breathing, though my heart rate kept slipping out of my control. I just didn't get as much training as I used to when Moms was alive. My mood turned black as the sky beyond the parking lot lamps. Cloudy, no stars tonight. "Well, I got news for you, buddy," I said mercilessly, "you're the one who died, not her."

For a moment, there was no sound but the hiss of the A/C through the SUV's vents.

Then he opened the door. A phantom of stagnant humid air bullied in, stealing the chill from the air.

"I'll text you when I land," he said.

He stepped out, closed his door and then opened the back door, grabbing his bag off the seat.

"You're right," I said without turning to look at him. "I got her out."

Through the open door, the electric hum of the lights, the crunch of another car's wheels rolling over the pavement behind him, the distant whine of a jet engine.

I could feel his eyes on my neck, the pressure of them.

My damned heart skipped a beat. Traitor.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Josh," he said.

"Who said I was?" Finally, I glanced back at him. "But then... all vampires are liars, right?"

He never blinked. The son-of-bitch could go without blinking for hours. It was freaky as shit. And I hated it. I wasn't sure it'd ever occurred to him that, sure, his girl missed him, but he'd been my friend too. And frankly, I'd never had too many of them.

"I'm glad you got her out," he said.

"It wasn't really me," I muttered, facing front again, gazing out across the rows and rows of empty cars, glum and dusty, waiting. "I just called in a few favors."

"She'll be good for you," he said.

I twisted in my seat again, scowling. "What the hell does that mean?"

He slung his backpack over his shoulder. He met my gaze, unwavering.

_Blink! Just pretend to be human, just for a second._

"Gia's very... alive," he said. And then that fake stony vamp façade cracked slightly and it was all misery and pain.

And finally, he blinked.

"She'll be good for both of you," he said softly.

Before I could respond, he shut the door.

I left the airport, drove down to the gas station, got some snacks, waited.

Then after Nico's flight had departed, I drove back, and pulled my own bag from under the cargo floor, stuffed in with the spare and the jack.

After checking in and going through security, I took an escalator up to the gates. The airport was smaller than its parking lot, but luckily, I only had one connection between here and New Jersey.

I took out my phone and brought up the newest number.

Gia's voice was breathy as if she'd been dancing the entire time. "Hi, lover boy."

I dropped into a molded plastic seat outside my gate. "Fuck you."

"You can if you want to," she said.

"Do you have any sense of propriety, at all?" I asked.

"I don't know what that means."

I pulled out my laptop. "Clearly."

"You're the one spewing expletives," she said. "Naughty."

"How are things?" I asked.

"Peachy."

I plugged it in, but the so-called charging station was dead. I picked up my bag, balancing my computer and edged over to the other row of seats and another plug-in. At last, power.

"You're sure you're going to be alright?" I asked her.

"Oh... what? You mean without the big strong men around to take care of me?" She feigned some muddled, overdramatic old Hollywood-style accent. "Lordy, whatever shall I do? Who will offer me a handkerchief if I chip a nail?"

I pulled up the feed on Molly's apartment. "You know you're not making any sense, right?"

"You know you left me the key to your armory, right?"

Molly must've been in the bathroom. It was the only room without a camera. Gia was outside on the death-trap stairs. There were two cameras there. One above Molly's door and one on the half-dead ash tree in the side yard.

"And you know that's only for emergencies, right?" I shot back.

"I'm in all day and all night," she said with a loose shrug.

"Huh?"

On the screen, I saw her freeze. Through the phone, I heard a board creak under her foot.

A pained look crossed her face, a disgusted kind of grimace.

"We never really get out... that's all," she said after a moment, all the playfulness gone from her voice.

I ignored the disappointment I felt.

"So long as there are blood-suckers in the world, it's always an emergency as far as I'm concerned," she added grimly, glancing back at the apartment door. "Go give New Jersey Scott a real shakedown, will ya? Somebody's gotta know how to keep my sister from looking like the biggest, reddest bulls-eye at camp."

I watched her crack open the apartment door and peek in, across the empty kitchen toward the closed bathroom door.

"You are strange," I told her, "and confusing."

She smiled, wide and wicked. "Oh, that's sweet."

I pressed my finger against my glabella—the space between the eyebrows, also known as the Third Eye. It was one of the less lethal strike-points, but a heavy blow anywhere to the head could cause death. In this instance, it felt more like Gia had been flicking mine repeatedly with her chipped fingernail. I was beginning to wish that she'd crack my skull with a hammer and get it over with.

Why had I cashed in all those favors to get her released? As if controlling the situation while living with a vampire wasn't difficult enough, I had to go and set Gia loose—the ultimate confounding variable. It was like I was _trying_ to get myself killed.

"Josh?"

My eyes were still squeezed shut. "Yeah?"

"Tell me everything is going to be okay."

"You want me to lie?" I slouched back in my seat, keeping my eyes closed. "What am I? A vampire?"

"You would be smokin' hot as a vampire."

"Are you saying I'm not already?"

"Everything's fucked up, you know that?" she said.

"I thought you were supposed to tell me everything was going to be okay."

Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Everything's going to be okay."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

"It's _not_ going to be okay," I said.

"That all depends on your definition of okay," she said.

"You just told me everything was fucked up."

"It is."

"And that's your definition of okay?"

"I'm writing you a letter, ready?"

"Why did I forget that you're insane?"

"Dear Josh, You think you're in control, but you're not. XOXO, Gia. P.S. It's okay. P.P.S. If I were a vampire, I'd totally suck your soul."

I closed the laptop. "Dear Gia, I'm hanging up now."

"Josh?"

"Yeah?"

Even though I couldn't see her, I could hear her smirk. " _I'm_ hanging up now."

And then she did.
9. Myth

Nico

**C** ars were one of a vampire's best weapons against another.

I'd flown into Charlotte, got myself a toxic-orange Charger as a rental and torn through those misty mountain roads at breakneck speeds in the lonely, dark predawn hours. If I'd been in the right mood, it would've been fun. But it was more like a dare. I took every corner tight, pedal down, just taunting God or the universe or whatever. Just punish me for being so reckless, flip me over that flimsy guardrail and toss me down the mountainside, light this American-made monster on fire. A vampire could survive a lot, but probably not that.

Two hours later, I was in Asheville.

I slowed as I neared the city, cracking my window.

It was only a manner of seconds before I caught the scent.

Vampires could mark their territories in lots of ways. Josh liked to give me shit about pissing on trees, but I've never actually done it. My body was like a sponge. I had to practically drown myself to feel the urge to release any fluids.

My personal preference was to just walk around combing my hair. I tried to make it look cool and casual, just for the hell of it. All James Dean. Not that there was ever really anyone around watching me pace out my boundaries. But it was effective. Vampires tracked scents the same way dogs did, dead skin cells. So marking off my territory was less a matter of watering the local greenery and more about setting up a clear trail of dandruff.

Sexy, huh?

The good thing about a car was, unless I got out, I wasn't dropping my scent everywhere. And since it wasn't my car, it didn't necessarily have that special vampire musk attached to it.

But, as Josh and I had learned, I had a special vampiric gift.

We'd always known that I was able to go unseen, unnoticed, by the living, but apparently, my ability to hide my presence worked on other vampires too.

I still liked to play it cautious. It required concentration on my part, a certain intent to mask myself, but so long as I was vigilant I was able to walk right by vampires, just as I did humans, and go unnoticed.

Not that vampires weren't used to having others skirt their fences, even pass through their town. This was especially the case in cities. Asheville wasn't huge, but it was a university town and a tourist attraction, so it was a safe bet that the local vamp wouldn't be constantly prowling, ready to jump on any passing fellow bloodsucker.

And my heightened sense of smell confirmed this.

I'd pulled off onto a lookout point and closed my eyes, letting the vamp's scent settle.

A smoker.

Gross.

I hated the taste of burnt tobacco. Already I was gagging at the thought. But it was a boon, really, because unlike dogs, a vampire's senses could be deadened by strong odors—like garlic. So this guy was just making it all the easier, both to find him, because he stank like an ashtray, and to sneak up on him, because it's hard to smell through a wall of smoke.

He hadn't been around to lay a fresh trail, at least not on this side of town for a couple of weeks. That could mean a lot of things. He might've been smug or lazy or just indulgent of other vampires. But in this case, it was because he was preparing to kill.

I could smell that too.

It hit me like a prickling tingle of anticipation. Something akin to how I felt whenever I was close enough to smell Molly. Excitement. Longing. Need.

Even in his old trail, it was evident.

I rolled up my window and flipped a U-turn, following the GPS directions back up into the mountains, away from town, to my hotel.

Hopefully, Smokey the Vamp wasn't a loafer and would get down to the killing soon. I was sure that, in the daylight, North Carolina was a beautiful place. But I was unlikely to see it.

Even if I had, scenery had never really moved me.

Besides, I wasn't a tourist. I was here on a mission.

All I wanted was to get it done and get back home.

Lucky for me, the next day was all drizzle and cloud-smeared skies. I wasn't forced by the threat of a serious vamp-style sunburn to remain indoors. Instead, I staked out Smokey's recent trails, locating his current domicile—a low-key, craftsman-style bungalow, heavy on the ornamental shrubbery and stained glass—and that of his victim's.

The future-blood donor had made the unfortunate mistake of living at the end of a road that was surrounded by more trees than neighbors.

I parked in the nearest neighbor's driveway. I cracked the tinted windows just enough to let the scents in, watching the victim drive up in his dark-blue BMW. He stopped out front to check the street-side mailbox. Older guy, fifties, maybe early sixties. He still wore a wedding ring, though it was clear there was no woman living in the house. Either a widower or a recent divorcee. He eyed the Charger with vague curiosity, his scent spiked with a faint, spicy hint of envy.

And then he got back into his car, pulled into his garage and closed the door.

I slid the Bluetooth earpiece on. As I backed out of the driveway, the soft electronic trill of the phone ringing filled my ear.

"Yeah?" Josh said, his voice slurred like he'd been sleeping.

"Dude's got a heart problem," I reported, pulling off the rain-slick street, around a tight curve and up a steep hill.

"The would-be vic?"

As I listened to Josh shuffle around, I noticed that something sounded odd. I couldn't quite put my finger on what though.

"Yeah," I said. "His heart's... I don't know. It doesn't sound right."

_Just like you, Josh._

"What's going on?" I asked. "Everything alright? Is Molly okay?"

"She's fine."

His fingers were tapping quickly on the keys of his laptop. Even that didn't sound quite like it should have, more muffled than usual. Normally, in our sparsely furnished house, every movement echoed.

"So this heart issue is going to make things tricky, right?" he asked.

"I don't know what it's going to do," I said, pulling off the road into a quiet parking lot of a barbeque joint. The unctuous smoky scents were overpowering, but I was less concerned about scent at that moment, then about hearing everything. I turned off the engine.

I tuned out the patter of the rain on the roof, the hiss of tires over water on the adjacent road, the rise and fall of engines passing, the faint voices of the people inside the restaurant...

I honed in on Josh's breathing.

"Where are you at?" I asked.

"The Austrian Alps," he said. "Picking edelweiss with a singing nun."

I frowned. Obviously, he was lying, but this wasn't just sarcastic lying. There was an edge to his voice...

I shut my eyes to the rain-blurred parking lot and the road beyond. Listening.

"I don't think she's going to give it up," I said to him. "Nuns are real prudes like that."

He snorted. "Forbidden fruit, man. Can't help myself." His respiratory rate slowed ever so slightly as he relaxed.

But why so tense in the first place?

"So Molly's okay?" I asked.

"One track mind much, Romeo? Yes, she's fine."

Truth.

I relaxed a bit. As long as Molly was okay, I was okay—at least, as much as I could be.

But something about Josh was still off.

"How's Gia?"

"Seriously?" he asked, tensing again. "Crazy as ever. Did you call to talk about your serious issues with females or are we going to discuss something of actual importance? You know, like if your local target is saddling up or not?"

"He is."

"You're sure?"

"Yup."

"So?"

"So, I told you, the lucky contestant has a seriously slogging heart. I don't know what will happen if I let Smokey take a bite."

"Smokey?" Josh asked. "Because of the mountains?"

"Because some bad habits never die, not even when you do."

"The undead smoke? What the hell for?"

"Got me," I said.

"So what? You thinking about taking Smokey out before he gets a chance to move in?"

I sat there for a long moment, not responding.

"Nico?"

"It's raining outside," I said to him.

"Yeah?"

"I'm in the car and the engine is off. My windows are nice and clear."

"Okaaaay."

I ran my finger down the inside of the glass. My skin came away dry. "No fogging. You know why?"

I heard his breathing stop for a split second.

"What's your point?" he asked.

"Why do you think I came here?" I asked.

He was silent, taking steady, measured breaths to keep himself calm. Beyond his silence, there was a dull electric growl of a motor—not a car. A scooter maybe? Yet it didn't rise as fall, like a passing vehicle on the street would. It was slowly and steadily getting louder, rumbling up and down, high-pitched.

"You're not going to take Smokey out then?" he asked, turning businesslike. "You want me to book your flight home?"

In spite of his efforts to hide it, his tone crackled with anxiety and irritation. He didn't want to send me home. Was it because he was disappointed I wasn't a super-hero who would selflessly save people and off other vamps, or was it something else?

"Yeah, do that," I told him.

"Hold on a sec," he said. More key clacking. The background noise continued at a steady pace, slowly drawing nearer to him. It almost sounded like a hairdryer. Gia? Maybe...?

"The earliest flight is at five a.m.," he said. "It won't get you home until 8, but it's supposed to rain tomorrow, so you shouldn't have any sunlight issues. I'll book you a rental too."

"See you in the morning," I said.

The noise drew close, a whining belt, small motor...

"Yeah," he muttered, allowing his foul mood to slip through more clearly.

Just as the phone clicked off, I realized what the sound had been. A vacuum. But not the wet/dry vac I had down in the basement. I knew the sound that beast made. And that was the only vacuum at the house. Which meant Josh hadn't been at home.

So where was he?
10: Technicolor-Dream Soul

Josh

**"S** on of a bitch," I muttered, pushing my laptop off onto the bed and dialing the number of the burner.

"Calling so soon?" Gia answered.

"Nico's heading back tomorrow morning," I said.

"That was quick."

"He's not taking out the vamp."

"Why not?"

I ground my teeth. "Does it matter?"

"Did you two have a fight?"

"I have to try to see Scott and get home tonight," I said. "Nico will kill me if he finds out I left Molly alone."

"She's _not_ alone," Gia said tartly. "I'm here and I have a crossbow."

I dug my fingers into my hair. "You're not supposed to touch the weapons unless absolutely necessary."

"I need to practice, don't I?"

"Not by yourself. Where are you practicing?"

"In the basement. Nico's destroyed it anyway."

I closed my eyes, huffing. "I'm going to find Scott, now. I booked a flight at nine. I should be back after midnight. Try not to shoot yourself in the foot."

"Yes, sir."

Scott didn't know that I knew where he lived. But I'd had some friends track him down through his IP address, though he'd managed to set up some pretty sophisticated proxies to mask his location.

While I'd known that Jersey was dubbed the Garden State, I hadn't realized there was anything other than city and suburbs. But Scott lived out on a secluded acreage, surrounded by nothing but fields and forest.

Who knew there were farmers in Jersey? Not me.

The tires of my rental, a nondescript blue sedan, crunched over the gravel lane until I pulled up in front of an old farmhouse—sagging porch, peeling white paint, steeply pitched roof, and the front door... wide open.

I put the car in park and squinted through the shadows of the looming trees and porch toward the gaping dark threshold.

"Fuck," I muttered, reaching into my cargo pants pocket and taking out the Taser that the local hunter had generously provided by having it delivered to my hotel room by a pizza delivery guy.

Pushing open my door, I stepped out. Jersey was warm, but the day was cloudy and the humidity was nowhere near as bad as it had been back home. A breeze rustled the leaves overhead. Still, sweat ran down my back, between my shoulder blades.

I circled the front of the car and approached the porch steps.

Everything seemed quiet.

And then I heard a moan.

I took a step up, holding the Taser gun in front of me. "Scott?"

A car door slammed and an engine revved to life.

I spun as another nondescript sedan peeled out from around the corner of the house, spraying gravel as it sped past mine.

But it hadn't been going so fast that I didn't get a look at the driver, even though she was hidden behind the hood of a coat and oversized sunglasses.

I knew that red hair.

"Ennis, you fucking—"

Another moan from inside.

I swiveled and clomped up the steps.

In the living room, bookshelves lined the walls. Stacks were piled on the floors in front of the shelves. A lone desk occupied the corner. Beside it, an older, heavy-set guy was slumped, his glasses askew, his eyes closed, one pudgy hand pressed to his bald head.

"Scott?" I put away the Taser and got out my phone, ready to call an ambulance. I stepped over the books and papers that had been scattered across the floor, apparently in some kind of tussle.

I crouched in front of him. "Scott?"

His eyes cracked open. They were blue, glazed, but after a moment, they focused on me.

I checked his neck, no sign of blood.

"Are you hurt?" I asked. "It's me, Josh. We were supposed to meet—"

His eyes flew open. He straightened his glasses and groped at the edge of the desk.

"It was here," he said, spittle flying from his lips.

"It's okay. She's gone."

But he didn't seem to hear me. He heaved himself up to his knees, grunting, and then stood. He was a good foot taller than me and a hundred pounds heavier, but stooped and soft. "She found me," he said, hanging on the edge of the desk for a moment, wheezing and blinking as if waking from a dream. "How did she find me?"

_Good question_.

He reached for his mouse. The screen came to life, spreading cool blue light over the dim confines of his musty living room.

"What happened?" I asked.

He pulled his keyboard forward and hurriedly began typing.

"I knew this would happen," he was murmuring to himself as lines of command codes scrawled. "I knew. I knew."

"What happened?" I asked, resisting the urge to hop back into my car and try to follow Ennis. She was long gone though.

He hit the Enter key with a fierce jab and then wiped his mouth, backing away from the computer as cascades of code raced across the screen.

He glanced around. A lump was forming on his head, like a horn trying to push through his skull.

"It's all lost." He pushed by me and barreled up the narrow stairs. They creaked and groaned under his weight.

I followed.

"What's lost? What did you tell her?"

"She wanted to know." He huffed, whipping open a bedroom door, and then a closet. He tugged out an old suitcase and tossed it on a messy double bed. He ripped open dresser drawers and began cramming clothes into the case. "The same as you."

"The same?"

"The soul," he barked. Big and lumbering as he was, he moved in a flurry around the small room, with its faded floral wallpaper and dusty dresser.

I stayed in the threshold, out of his way, my head spinning. Upstairs it was hot and stuffy, making it hard to breathe.

"What about the soul?" I asked.

He snorted, grabbing books from the shelves above the headboard. He tossed them into the suitcase too.

"What about the soul?" he repeated as if I were being deliberately obtuse just to piss him off. "What about the soul? What about the soul?"

My fingers tightened around the door frame's molding. "What did you tell her?" I demanded.

Once the suitcase was overflowing, he forced it shut, latched it, and pushed it into my arms. I stumbled under its weight into the hall.

He lumbered out with a fireproof lockbox under one arm and a stack of books in the other, crammed up under his chin. Then he thundered down the stairs again.

I followed, carrying his damned suitcase.

He went back through the kitchen, out the back porch to a rusted white van. He shoved open the sliding door and dumped his books and the box into the back. Grabbing the suitcase from me, he pitched that in too.

"In all these years,"—he slid the door shut, allowing it to slam—"they never knew about me. They never found me."

Sweat dripped off his face and soaked his tent-like button-up. For a second I thought he was going to start throwing accusations my way, and my hand closed around the handle of the Taser gun. But he didn't. His wild eyes roved across the weedy pea gravel like he was searching for something he'd lost.

"It was bound to happen," he said finally. "I knew it would happen. One day. I knew."

He charged around the van to an old shed that looked like it might collapse with the slightest wind. But he ripped open the door and the hole-ridden structure barely shuddered. He disappeared inside for a moment.

I stood outside. "What did you tell her? What—?"

He emerged with an old metal gas can. His eyes bulged, they were glassy and a bit wild. He pushed his rimless glasses back up his nose.

I leaned back as the too-sweet fumes of gasoline hit my nose.

"About the soul." He giggled. "The Technicolor dream soul."

"And _what_ did you tell her?"

He shuffled past me, gasoline sloshing in the dented metal can in his arms.

"Nothing to tell," he said. "Just stories, just legends, just myths. _Their_ myths."

My teeth were clenched so hard my jaw was starting to hurt. "What myths?"

"The soul of many colors," he said, turning to face his house, his voice breathless, unhinged. "I found a sentence. In one text, old, old..."

I took a deep breath and edged around the guy. He was obviously losing it. Had he always been that way or had Ennis's little visit pushed him over the edge?

"What sentence?" I pressed.

He held up his finger at me. "Just one," he said. "Buried. No one else would've known. No one else has the books. The journals." He gestured with the gas can toward the house.

"Look, Scott, why don't you give me the gas can? I can call some people, help you relocate, get everything out—"

But my attempt to sound calm made him skitter away, hugging the gas can to his chest.

"A cure," he said. "That's what it said, 'The soul of many colors is a cure.'"

"A cure for what?"

He shook his head. "The text was compromised, most of it indecipherable, damaged. It was old... old, old, old." He focused on me again. His eyes, bright and clear for a split second. "I've never seen one before, in person," he said. "All these years, I've studied them. Collected their journals..." The clarity in his gaze began to fade, growing hazy. "She was so beautiful."

"This text you found," I said. "The one that referenced the soul of many colors, where is it?"

He blinked, gazing up at the house. "She took it. She wanted to know what would happen if one of her kind fed off the colored soul. I told her, I didn't know. And she asked, who would know? I said only someone who had fed off such a soul. And then she took the book and she was gone." He touched the lump on his head. "She hit me." He frowned. "Why didn't she kill me?"

"Because she thinks she's one of the good ones," I growled, my head throbbing.

He frowned. "Good ones?"

"Exactly," I muttered, turning away, but then stopping, eyeing the gas can. "Look, whatever you're going to do..."

"It's all planned. All set," he said. "They won't find me again. Never again."

"Yeah, but—"

"Never." He started up the steps of the back porch, unscrewing the cap of the gas can.

"Fuck," I muttered, pulling out my phone.

He turned suddenly, making me flinch. "She said a name," he announced.

"A name?"

He nodded, scanning the tops of the trees that were huddled close around his house.

"Um..." He yanked off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and thumb. "Brandon, Brendon..."

My heart lurched. "Brennin?"

He looked up. "That's it." He put his glasses back on. "Brennin, she said." He gazed past me again. "She was so beautiful."

Then he turned, gasoline splashing out of the can, spilling on the old wooden planks of the porch, running down the steps.

I rounded the side of the house and got into my car. I called 911.

"This is 911 dispatch. Please state your emergency."

"Yeah," I said as I started the car. "There's a fire."
11. Alone

Nico

**I** drove around the mountains for a while, pretending to be a tourist, but as night fell, I found myself back in town.

I parked on the street. The rain had stopped. People were starting to filter onto the damp sidewalks—friends, lovers, hunters.

It wasn't until I'd become a vampire and I could smell the intentions of the living on their skin, their breath, read it in their pulse and respiratory rates, that I realized just how many people were out there looking to hurt others.

They probably didn't think of themselves as hunters. In fact, I was sure they didn't.

A predator knows another when he meets one.

The worst weren't the ones who knew they were out for prey. The self-aware types were pretty hard to come by. They were the kinds my sister liked to cage and bleach and feed to her customers.

I faded into the shadows and watched the crowds pass. I spotted a hunter right away. She was in a big group, lots of friends. They stank of pot and cigarettes. They were all real good-looking, vibrant, well-dressed. The girl was short, bubbly-looking, cute. She talked fast and made everyone laugh. And she was a hunter. She wanted to hurt someone.

Pain. It was like a toxic perfume. Syrupy sweet, but sour, like bile.

She was drenched in it. It stank worse than the beer on her breath, the coconut-scented shampoo clinging to her hair, the powdery deodorant on her skin.

"I know," she was saying as she passed by, "can you believe _she_ said that? Such a bitch! I mean, I shop there all the time. I complained to the manager. She is totally going to be fired."

I scraped my teeth over my lip. If I'd been in the business of stalking and killing the living, she was the sort I would've hunted.

Manipulators. Liars. People who spent their entire lives blindly wounding others so they wouldn't have to deal with their own wounds.

Maybe I didn't entirely lack a conscience. Or maybe Pencil-thin Man just liked to feel as though he was stalking someone who might put up a fight. I highly doubted that Smokey's victim was going to struggle. His heart would probably seize up as soon as Smokey bit into him.

Sliding out of the shadows, I followed Smokey's particular trail, out of the center of town toward the neighborhoods.

The closer I got to heart-attack dude's house, the stronger Smokey's scent. Tonight was definitely the night. My heart picked up pace until it was almost beating normally. That happened during the kill. Something about a vampire's physiology speeded the blood in the circulatory system. I wasn't even sure if the victim's blood hit the stomach at all. It felt as if it went straight from my mouth into my heart. But honestly, I didn't think too much about how it worked, Pencil-thin Man didn't care and my pitiful little soul had no desire to know.

All I knew was that it worked.

And as I strolled up the road toward heart-attack dude's house, my teeth ached—my fangs, that is. In my head, a Poe poem on repeat, " _I have not been, as others were..._ "

I couldn't quite say what had brought me here. I had no intention of killing Smokey. But the scent of the impending kill was too tempting, like a siren's song. And I was curious. It might be useful to know, for the future, what would happen to a victim with a heart condition.

Water dripped off the leaves, pattering softly against the sodden ground. The nearest neighbors must have been out-of-town. And the ones further down the road lived in a well-soundproofed house. I knew by scent that they were home, but I couldn't hear much of anything. I doubted they would've heard even if heart-attack dude did manage to call for help.

Not that he would.

They rarely got the chance.

In my head, the damned poetry kept going, " _Then-in my childhood, in the dawn, Of a most stormy life, was drawn_ ..."

I stood on the opposite side of the road, which had no sidewalks. Behind me, a steep, forested slope. Beyond the tree, there must have been another road, because I could hear tires swooshing over wet pavement.

Heart-attack's lights were on, the blinds drawn. Some cop drama droned on his TV, punctuated by sudden bursts of shouting and gunfire.

Smokey was inside already. Somewhere. Even if he'd picked up on my scent, he probably wouldn't put off his attack. He probably had no idea how vulnerable he was while he fed. Why would he?

His anticipation became mine. I couldn't help it. I vamped.

" _The mystery which binds me still—_ "

Changing was subtle, on the outside. My eyes, behind their contacts, would be washed out. My fangs appeared. As heightened as my senses had been before, they trebled.

" _From the torrent, or the fountain--From the red cliff of the mountain..._ "

A breeze kicked through the trees behind me, spraying rainwater from the leaves onto my back, and bringing with it another scent...

I spun and was tackled to the ground.

My head cracked against the blacktop. A blow that might've fractured my skull, had I been alive, but in this case, it just pissed me off.

My attacker, a big, blond vamp, crushed down on top of me, attempting to pin my arms. But in my previous life, I had learned more than a few self-defense moves. I broke his grip and slammed my fist into the side of his chiseled jaw.

We tussled and rolled off the road, down the slope, somehow avoiding the trees, and rolling down into a shallow, muddy ravine.

Even as a vampire, I found the trip jarring. We bounced over roots and branches that clawed at my pants.

This guy wasn't Smokey. This guy had come out of nowhere. I hadn't picked up his scent. Not even a hint.

The minute we stopped rolling, we broke apart. Both of us scrambled to our feet.

Though it was black down there, deep under the treetops, away from the houses, I could see Blondie just fine. He flashed his fangs at me, radiating a killing aroma. Something like charred meat.

I had to admit, I was confused. Clearly, this guy was out to end me. But this wasn't his territory. I couldn't figure out where he'd come from. A transient? Except they didn't usually come so close to the local vamp. Drifters tended to stay near the main thoroughfares, kill quickly, and with little discrimination, and then hit the road again. Besides, the hazy aura of his soul was on the lighter side of gray. A healthy hue for most vamps. A sign that someone probably did his homework, stalked his prey carefully.

Then there were more footfalls, trampling fast through the muck and mire.

I tensed.

Blondie smiled.

More vampires emerged from the shadows between the trees. Five of them. Two women, three more men. With Blondie, that made six.

I didn't recognize any of them. There wasn't a vampire social network, at least, not one I'd been invited to join. But even though vampires didn't usually congregate, this wasn't the first time I'd been cornered and surrounded by the undead.

They set up a perimeter. All bleached out eyes and hate-stench. Their souls clung to them like gauzy gray shrouds, eking out weak light. But like Blondie, none of them were dark.

I was so tense, every tendon and muscle wound to the breaking point, straining. I was all scent and sound, so much so that my vision went slightly hazy. But my ears and nose were stronger allies, especially since there was a vampire behind me that I couldn't keep an eye on. The slightest change in scent, the smallest shift in weight, squelching in the soft forest floor, would alert me if any of them tried to attack.

Blondie edged forward. Mud was smeared on his face from our tussle, like war paint.

"You're Cain," he growled.

Ah, so this wasn't some pack of feral drifters. It was a lynch mob.

In the not-so-far-off distance, on an adjacent road, a car came to a stop, the engine turned off, and the door opened.

Another vampire.

Still in the back of my mind, like a song I couldn't shake, " _From the lightning in the sky—As it passe'd me flying by—From the thunder, and the storm—And the cloud that took the form..._ "

The pack shifted as the new scent wound through the trees toward us, snaking on the cool night air, filling it with a complex aroma—one with sediment, lots of layers, faintly honeyed, rich and smoky like espresso, musty and dry like a desert tomb. The vampire had weight, but moved gracefully, smooth and unhurried.

And it was someone the others knew.

Their scents changed—murderous bile and overheated bloodlust retreating. Their shoulders and heads fell. They inched back, widening the gaps in their circle.

Briefly, I considered breaking for it, but then the new arrival appeared.

A stately woman with a soul unlike any I'd seen—it was brighter for its density, and clung closer to her body in layers, some darker, some lighter.

She smiled as she stepped out of the trees at the edge of the ravine.

_When the rest of Heaven was blue..._

Her voice was just as deep and powerful as I remembered.

"Hello, Nico," the Minister said.

_...Of a demon in my view_.
12. The Devil and the Angel

Nico

**B** londie took another step back, eyes darting between the Minister and me.

"Minister," he said, "what are you doing here?"

The Minister stepped down the slope. Though her deep-purple skirt was fitted to her curvaceous frame, it sported a slit that allowed her freedom of movement. Her glossy black boots sank into the mud as she approached.

I wanted to move away, but there was nowhere to move to. Even as I thought it, the others closed ranks.

The Minister stepped into the circle, her smile remained gentle, melancholy.

"Oh, Nico. I am so sorry," she said, giving her head a shake. "I had no idea this had happened to you. What a tragedy."

And she meant it.

Her sympathy confused my senses, easing some of my tension.

Blondie edged closer to the Minister, pointing at me. "He's Cain."

The Minister nodded, slowly as if she'd known this. "I see."

I snapped back to myself, fists balling, body electrified tensile wire. "These are your lemmings?" I asked.

The hot, sour stink of impending violence redoubled.

"These are members of my congregation, yes," she said, gesturing to Blondie. "Lionel, this is Nico." Her heavy gaze slid over to Lionel. "You have done well in finding him. Enlisting the hunter's network to lure him here."

Lionel's eyes widened. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew," the Minister said, voice dripping with pity.

Lionel's head bowed.

"I'm sorry we didn't inform you," he said. "We thought..."

"That I'd try to stop you?" the Minister asked.

"You said we should stay away from him," one of the women behind me said.

"For your own safety," the Minister said.

"He's not just killing our kind," Lionel said, accusatory. "He's working with the hunters to do it. This proves it. We set up the trap, laid the bait, tipped off the hunter here, and look."

The Minister's eyes bored into me as if she could read my mind. But she couldn't. There was only one person who'd been able to do that--

"He's protecting someone," the Minister said suddenly.

I went still.

And so did the rest of them.

All except the Minister, she was smiling, as ever.

She wasn't a mind reader, but it had been stupid to think about Molly. Once I realized what I'd done, I picked up the subtle shift in my scent... the one the Minister had also noticed.

The Minister's head tilted. "Does your sister know about your... activities, Nico?"

"What does that matter?" I asked.

"Hmm..."

Maybe it was due to the Minister's advanced years, but I was having a hard time picking up on her intentions. Her scent never seemed to change. She radiated nothing but the aromas of age—dry, musty—and benevolence—lightly honey sweet—and honesty—clean, fresh like rain. Had she learned how to manipulate her scent?

"I've heard from your sister, about her work..." She eyed me. " _You_ know what _she's_ been doing, yes?"

"Are you going to kill me or not?" I asked.

"Yes," Lionel hissed, but the Minister held up her hand, halting him.

"Let's not be hasty, Lionel," she said.

"He's a murderer."

I barked a laugh. "No more than you."

"You kill your own kind!" A big guy with flaring nostrils like a bull roared at me.

I flashed a smile at him, or more the point, Pencil-thin Man, did. " _I_ am not one of _your_ kind."

Lionel bared his fangs at me and it seemed the mob was about to finally light their torches, but then the Minister's voice boomed around us.

"Enough."

Her cronies were quelled, at least momentarily.

She continued to watch me as if I might vanish on the spot if she looked away.

"For the last two years, I've preached against the sins of this young man, who was dubbed Cain," she said, her voice winding around us, drowning out all other sound. "In that short, short time, he has managed to drive fear into the souls of those who have rarely been troubled by the threat of mortality. The thing that the fearless fear. And yet, look at him. Now that you have him cornered, do you fear him?"

Lionel sneered and Bullnose snorted, puffing up his already bulging chest, straining his black T-shirt.

"He's just a boy," the Minister said. "A child, even among our kind. He is so fresh to our world that I can still smell humanity upon him... it is like"—her gaze drifted skyward as if she was searching the gaps in the canopy, the cloud-buried sky, for the glint of a star, but there weren't any. Her eyes fell to me again—"a body seeping blood though its heart has ceased beating. You can still feel your heart beating, can't you, Nico? Your human heart."

Pink-tinged tears glimmered in her eyes. And a fragrant floral aroma overpowered the fury-stench of the others. Roses. The scent of compassion, forgiveness, salvation.

"This boy is no threat," the Minister went on. I couldn't hear anything but her words, everything else disappeared. "He is just another wayward son. Lost. Alone. Confused. Like so many of us were and have been."

She glanced over at Lionel, whose eyes had changed from pale gray to vibrant blue—no longer vamped out, subdued by the Minister's dominating presence.

"You thought that you had come here to kill a traitor, an apostate, but isn't it obvious? Unlike us, who have fallen so far from what we were, that we no longer see ourselves for what we are, this boy knows just what he is and just what we are and he is fighting, desperately, against it. But he has forgotten that there is hope. That we can all be saved. That we need not submit to the monster within us. There are other ways."

The Minister, having nearly obliterated the foul reek of murder in the air, held her arms out to me.

"I knew you, Nico," she said, "as a child, when your soul was the brightest light I had ever encountered in all of my many, many years of existence. I know what you have lost. I know your pain. And I know what it feels like to have the light trampled, to be infiltrated by that unquenchable darkness. But if you come with me, I promise, you will no longer have to kill, neither human nor vampire. And we will work together to help others so that no one need give in to the demands of that devil inside. I will help you make the light your master and crush the devil who would own you."

Somewhere inside, my pitiful little soul was sobbing. And yet, somehow, the Minister had silenced Pencil-thin Man. She had silenced everything. Her scent, her voice, the weight of her eyes, there was nothing beyond her. Except one thing...

"Whatever it is," she said, again as though she could read my mind, " _who_ ever it is. They... _she_ will be safe."

At some point, my fangs had retracted, just like the others'. When I bit my lip, it was with human teeth.

" _You_ are _not_ the devil, Nico," she said. "You don't have to fight alone anymore. Come with me. We will save your soul _together_."

My soul ached to go to her.

I didn't want to be a vampire, a monster, Cain.

All I'd wanted was to save my sister.

What I hadn't known when I'd asked Rafe to turn Ennis—naively hoping to save her, to give her a second chance at life—was that being a vampire wasn't living forever.

Being a vampire was dying slowly, over lifetimes. Each kill, another deadly wound. Seeping... Just as the Minister had said.

Now I knew the truth.

"Can you?" I asked, my voice weak under the heavy tapestry woven by the Minister's words. They lingered in the air, holding it captive. "Save my soul?"

She smiled, arms still open to me. "Only if you let me."

At that moment, the Minister's spell was sundered by the whisper of metal through the air, sliding through skin and bone like butter, the wet thump of Bullnose's head hitting the ground. A split-second later, his body fell too.

We all turned, blinking away the Minister's cloying power. Apparently, it was strong enough to block out the approach of another vampire.

A pair of ice blue eyes pierced the shadows, a cold smile spread over Rafe's face.

"Now, don't forget the first rule of dealing with vampires, Nicolas," he said, wiping the blood from his sword's blade with a white handkerchief. He cocked a dark brow at me. "They're all liars."
13. Every Time I Run

Nico

**"K** ill him!" the Minister cried.

Not that anyone needed to be told. Lionel and his remaining four cronies had already launched themselves at Rafe. They must've planned to kill me with their bare hands because none of them had weapons. I didn't either. Since I hadn't planned on taking Smokey out, I hadn't bothered to procure one.

Still, I considered helping Lionel and his pack out. I still owed Rafe for murdering my parents, after all.

On the other hand, I had no intention of joining the Minister. Now that her persuasive vamp powers were wearing off, Pencil-thin Man was urging me to run. For once, I was inclined to agree with him.

Rafe made quick work of two of the pack. But Lionel ducked under Rafe's sword and one of the others slammed into Rafe from behind, knocking him to the ground.

I started to turn.

The Minister snagged my arm.

"I _can_ help you, Nico," she said.

I ripped my arm free. "You can use me, is what you mean," I snarled, backing away.

Her face hardened. "This is your only chance," she said. "You will be hunted. And I won't be there the next time to save you."

"Nothing you could do could save me anyway," I said, digging my toe into the soft slope, heading back up to the road and the Charger, back to Molly.

Rafe roared, throwing off two of his attackers. His sword wheeled off into the trees.

Lionel picked up a rock and cracked it against the back of Rafe's head. Rafe stumbled. Lionel bashed him again. Rafe dropped to the ground.

"Wait," the Minister said as Lionel lifted the rock above Rafe's skull a third time. "Pick him up."

I scrambled further up the slope to the point where the roots of the trees dangled over the ravine. The lights of heart-attack man's house were evident.

Lionel and one of the women bent to hook Rafe under the arms. The third vampire was cursing under his breath, holding his hand over a bloody wound to his chest.

The Minister glanced up at me as Rafe was hauled around to face her, his head rolling on his shoulder.

"Stay, Nico," she said. "You and I both know that if there is a devil among us..." She tipped Rafe's head back, so his mud-splattered face was tilted up toward the sky. His hung limply between Lionel and the other vamp. His eyes lids fluttered. "Then this is he," she hissed, sneering, all scents of beneficence gone.

From within the crisscrossing gathers of her blouse, she removed a knife.

She ran the tip of the dagger down Rafe's throat. "How long I have waited for this moment... my fallen angel." Her eyes flicked over to me again. "I know you hate him," she said. "And you are right to. The ones like him are the true threats to our kind."

While I'd been aware of the animosity between the Minister and Rafe—apparently spawned after he'd destroyed a previous incarnation of her Ministry after he'd lost faith in its teachings—I'd had no idea how deep and black it was. But the quality of hate oozing off the Minister, a thick rank rot, suggested that it might've been even more personal.

Sure, I had good reason to hate Rafe. I'd tried to kill him (and had thought I'd succeeded—wrong, obviously), but for some reason, I hesitated.

"What are you going to do to him?" I asked.

She smiled. "I am going to cut out his heart," she said. "And I am going to hold it in my hand as it turns to dust."

If she looked up at me again, I didn't see it, because I was already running.
Interlude

Rafe

**M** y eyes opened.

"Oh good," she smiled. "I want you to be awake for this."

Fast as I was, I wasn't fast enough and, besides that, my new friends had me well secured.

Not that I was struggling, I could barely focus. Blood was tacky on the back of my head, which was nothing but agony.

Why had I followed Nico here?

Why had I gotten involved?

I could've let him go with the Minister.

Or I could've let her kill him, as she surely would have if he'd refused her seduction.

That's what it was, the Minister's power. That's how she captivated her congregation, though she painted it in the stained-glass hues of salvation, underneath, it was just seduction. Adi, the Minister as she called herself, could make a monster think he was a saint. She'd certainly managed to convince herself of it. But at the moment, she was fully revealed.

A monster.

But a damned glorious one.

Vampires so rarely had power over others. It had taken me a long time to break free from her spell.

Her eyes combed my face. "How long have we known each other, Rafael?"

"Too long," I said, there was blood in my mouth, it slurred my words and burned the back of my throat. "Where's Nico?"

"Ran away," she said. "Too bad. I was very much hoping he would join the flock. Once I had him firmly on my side, I would've been prepared to deal with your... lady lawyer."

"You were going to use him to blackmail Ennis," I said, grimacing.

"Hardly. Merely to convince her to agree to certain terms. I admit I'm impressed by her particular skills."

My skull was fractured and pain radiated down my neck like metal claws raking and burrowing. Still, not quite as bad as having my head cut off...

Again I found myself marveling at the lengths I had been driven to on Ennis's behalf. Twice, I had spared Nico. First, when I'd given him up while he was still a child, and again after he'd attacked me. Then I had turned him. And now I was going to die protecting him.

All for her.

And she didn't even know I was here.

"Tell me," Adi said, leaning in a bit closer, "did she know that Nico was Cain? Did you? Was this a part of her plan?"

I laughed, though doing so felt like it was shattering the rest of my skull.

"You don't remember, do you?" I asked, my vision blurring.

"Remember what?" she sneered.

"What it was like, in the beginning?" I said. "You pretend to, but you don't. Not really. When there were still people you loved, alive." I smiled at her. "Until you turned them."

She seized my throat.

I laughed harder, blood dribbling down my lip, cool, thick.

"Until _you_ killed them," she snarled.

I smiled. "I did do that, didn't I?"

Yes, her original flock had been full of her descendants, whom she had turned one after another over the many, many long years. More than two dozen. After I had realized I'd been duped by her false promises, I'd drugged them, cut off their heads, and burned them all. And then I'd hunted the ones still living and killed them too. One of the rubs of being a reformed liar and murderer is that it really hurts when you discover your would-be savior is also a liar and murderer. And that there is no salvation. And no cure. And there would never be one. Had I not been such an ardent believer in the beginning, I probably wouldn't have reacted so badly when I discovered the truth.

But I'd been young then.

"When I'm done with you." Adi pressed her bowie knife to the underside of my jaw, "I will find her and the boy..."

"You could've killed them at any time." I struggled to regain my strength, but the wound to my head was draining me.

She smiled. "Yes, but I didn't want to kill them. I wanted to make them mine. Because I knew that it would hurt you more. And I _will_ make them mine, Rafael, I will. And _then_ , I will kill them. But sadly—" she drew back and stabbed me in the chest. I might've gasped, I couldn't say. All I felt was dull pressure in my chest, a strange sensation of something being not quite right "—you will not be here to see them suffer. Just know, they will."

She tugged the knife free and pulled her arm back to stab me again.

And then there was a flicker of movement, so quick that through my pain-addled vision, I wasn't sure I'd seen it.

For a moment, Adi appeared frozen. And then her head rolled off her neck and her body crumpled.

And there was Nico, with my sword.

Adi's minions released me. As much as I wanted to spring into action, my skull was bashed in and I had a stab wound in my chest. The best I could do was put my hands down and ease myself into one of the muddy puddles at the bottom of the ravine. Cold water bit at my face and was actually somewhat bracing.

The scents of fear and shock, hate and rage danced around me. But they came entirely from Adi's followers. Nico, I couldn't smell at all.

Interesting.

After a moment, I managed to roll over onto my back.

After another moment, Nico appeared again, gazing down at me. His eyes were muted, paler than they should have been. He must've been wearing contacts. The others were gone, but I couldn't tell if he'd killed them all or not.

"You decapitated her," I said, chuckling in spite of the pain.

"Yeah, well." He lifted the sword slightly, examining it. "You took off that other guy's head, so I figured it was only fair."

My eyes slid shut and I smiled. "Of course."

Fairness, justice... He was just like his sister.

I opened my eyes again. He was still there, glaring down at me.

"Are you going kill me now, little brother?" I asked.

"I was going to let _her_ do it," he said. "I _was_ , but then..." He frowned, looking away, toward the trees. "I was cutting off her head."

"If I told you why, would you believe me?" I said.

"Tell me anyway," he said.

"Because I made you," I said. "Your sister... she couldn't do it. She couldn't bring herself to do it. And she begged me, just like you did... for her."

His jaw flexed. His scent began to emerge again. So much pain. He was still so much more human than vampire. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten the scent of it. Ennis had smelled the same for so long, but now... much less so.

"You've been following me?" he asked.

"This was the first time," I said, and then added, "since you'd turned."

"Is Ennis here?"

"No."

"Does she know you're here?"

"No."

He frowned. "Then why? Because you love her?"

I swallowed back the blood in my mouth, yearning for something fresh, something healing, something living.

"No," I said. "That's not why."

"Then why?" he demanded.

"I told you," I said, "because you're mine. I made you."

"You said you'd kill me—"

"I will," I said, "if I have to. But I'm not going to let another do it. Certainly not the Minister."

He half turned, spitting swear words into the night.

And then he spun, dropping to his knee next to me.

"Is that why I'm not killing you right now? Because you were the one who made me into this?" he demanded.

"You could kill me," I said.

His teeth were clenched. "Don't lie."

"I killed the one who made me," I told him truthfully. "Nothing about the fact that I turned you would keep us from killing each other."

"Yeah," he growled, "but it just made me stop someone else from doing it, isn't that right?"

"Yes."

"I _want_ to kill you," he said.

The shape of his eyes was the same as his sister's and now, behind the contacts, they would be the same color too. I had given them both immortality. And yet they were the ones who held power over me, far more so than I over them.

For them, I was lying in the mud, clinging to my simulacrum of a life. And I had not lied. He could've killed me, as he'd tried to once before.

For some reason, though, he wasn't.

As much as he wanted me to, I couldn't explain it to him.

I honestly didn't have an answer.

If I'd been in his place, I would've done it. I would've driven the sword right through my chest, pinning me to the ground. I would have stood by and watched as I bled out every ounce of stolen life and then turned to dust.

That's what _I_ would have done.

But I was a vampire. And though I loved Ennis, and though I protected Nico, they were not like me.

Not yet.

All this time, I'd thought I'd understood. Ennis had been different, that's why I had fallen in love with her. But not until this moment did I realize it wasn't her selflessness, her strength, her innate sense of justice, which had drawn me to her. It hadn't been her love of Nico that had kept me from killing him, not when he was a child, or after he'd cut off my hands.

It wasn't just that I loved Ennis. Though I did.

It wasn't only that I had turned Nico. Though I had.

While I had thought I was making them mine, somehow, they had made the dark being inside of me—that _was_ me—theirs.

Every violence they could inflict upon me, I deserved. Any and every bit of torture and pain they saw fit to mete upon me, I had earned.

And that Nico didn't now seize the opportunity when he easily could have, when the monster within him—the one I had created—should have demanded that he do so, I _could not_ explain that to him.

I didn't know.

He stood, slowly, gaze shifting away.

"I wanted to believe her," he said, "the Minister."

I was sinking deeper into the mud. "I know."

"But you were right," he said. "She was a liar. She couldn't save me."

"No one can."

His gaze focused on me again. "But you did."

Whatever shred of soul I had left in me... it was listening.

He tossed the sword down. It splatted into the muck beside me.

"How did you know where I was?" he asked.

"We had someone, for a while. He was very good with computers. We've been reading Josh's emails."

"Someone? You mean, a human being that you two caged up, bleached, and fed to your customers?"

"He had an unfortunate penchant for abusing children and taking and selling videos of his activities." I grimaced, my head throbbing as it began to heal. "I offered to flay him, but your sister thought his death should serve some better purpose since his life had been such a stain upon humanity. Still, death-by-vampire seemed far too merciful."

He swore again and knelt next to me, digging through my pockets until he found my phone. He pulled it out and touched the screen. Blue light washed over his face—and I remembered how warm it had once been and saw how cold it was now.

His thumb moved over the screen. A moment later, I heard the phone ringing. He had it on speaker.

Ennis answered. "Rafe?"

"Did you get the text?" Nico asked.

Her voice went up an octave. "Nico?"

"Did you get it?" he asked her. "The GPS coordinates?"

"Yes—"

"Better hurry."

He hung up and tossed the phone onto my chest. I grimaced as it struck the knife wound. But already, my strength was returning, even without fresh blood. My hand closed around the phone.

He stood and left me.
14. True Story

Josh

**"I** don't fucking believe this," I muttered.

The woman ahead of me in the airport check-in line turned, shooting me a dirty look. I gave it right back to her. She sneered and turned her back to me again, shaking her long hair, making it flutter in my face.

I turned my shoulder to her and called Gia.

"I just bought new boots," she answered, "they are so killer."

I frowned. "With what money?"

"The money you left."

"That was for food."

"Did you know that Molly worked a whole summer detasseling corn and she put all of the money she earned into my commissary so I could buy shit while I was locked up?"

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Yes. I knew."

"Oh, yeah, of course you did," she said, "stalker."

"Shut up a minute," I said, shaking my head. "I found Brennin."

"Say what?"

"Yeah, apparently he's in some mental hospital."

"Wait. You mean, like, with living people? But he's a vampire."

The line shuffled forward. "Yeah," I said. "Well... Maybe they don't know what he is."

"Wouldn't they figure it out, you know, with the need to feed?"

"I don't know. But I'm not coming home tonight. I'm headed back to my old stomping grounds to pay Brennin a visit. And also, Ennis got to Scott."

"What the—?"

"Yeah, he freaked out," I said.

"Wow," Gia said.

Hair flipper stepped away from the check-in kiosk, giving me one more nasty sneer. I moved my phone to my other ear so I could flip her off and pull my wallet out.

"Asshole," she snapped over her shoulder.

"True story." I smiled at her, taking out my license to swipe it into the machine.

"Who are you talking to?" Gia asked.

"Look," I said, "shit's going to hit the fan when Nico gets back tomorrow morning and I'm not there."

"I'll just make something up."

"He'll know you're lying."

"He didn't know you were."

"I didn't lie," I said, entering my information into the touchscreen. "I just didn't tell him anything."

"Molly's fine. Big sis is here. And I gotta say, I'm pretty damned good with this crossbow. The rest of the walls in the basement are totally demolished. He should be happy."

"He's never happy."

"When are you coming back?" she asked.

The kiosk spit out my boarding pass. I snagged it and strode toward the nearest bathroom. "As soon as I know what's going on," I said as I walked. "Also, I'm ditching this phone. I've already trashed my laptop and killed my email accounts."

"Are you kidding?"

"Ennis got to Scott just before I did. My mom used to say that coincidence only happens when you're caught off guard, and when you get caught off guard by a vampire, you end up dead."

And she'd been right.

"Well, your mom knew her shit," Gia said. "But what if something happens and you don't have a phone?"

"If something happens, were you planning on calling me? What would I be able to do? I'm going to be five hundred miles away."

"I mean what if something happens _to you_ ," she said.

"You were going to come to my rescue?"

She sighed. "So what are you going to do if you find Brennin? It can't really be him, right? Locked in a nuthouse?"

"I don't know," I said as I walked into the men's room. And I really didn't. The info I'd found hadn't been detailed. Just his name and the date of his admittance to the facility—almost two years ago. I knew a vampire could go a while without feeding, but I'd never heard of one going years without it.

"Well, if it is him," she said, "I hope he's rotting. And if not, you could prove your love for me by gutting him."

"Not the most efficient method," I said, picking a stall at random.

"Who gives a shit about being efficient?" she said. "I want him to suffer. He almost killed my sister."

I closed the door and hung my bag on the coat hook. "Look, I gotta go. I have another flight booked back home tomorrow night."

"Wait, you didn't tell me what Scott said. Did he know something about Molly's soul or not?"

I hesitated, mind working. "Your stepdad, he attacked Molly, right?"

Her tone turned blunt and dark. "I wouldn't have stabbed him otherwise."

"But there was a body. I saw the crime scene photos in your file. The autopsy pics. He never dusted."

"He _was_ a vampire," she said. "You don't believe me?"

I leaned back against the stainless steel stall. "How weak was Molly after he attacked her? Was she pale, sweating, breathing fast? Could she walk, was she conscious?"

"I don't know. He knocked me out. Yeah, she was pale and sweaty—she'd been fighting for her life. But I didn't carry her out of there once I woke up. We got out together. The hunter might've helped her some, I don't remember."

"But she recovered without going to the hospital."

"Obviously," she said. "What does it matter?"

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe it doesn't. I'll be back tomorrow night."

"Wait, before you ditch your phone..."

"Wait for what?" But she'd already hung up.

A second later, my phone buzzed with an incoming picture. A pair of legs, kicked up on my coffee table, clad in knee-high black boots, and a whole lot of thigh above them, next to which was a crossbow.

I let that image sink in for a minute and then I dropped the phone to the tile. Porcelain and glass shattered.

"Shit," I said as if it had been an accident.

I smashed my foot down on it, breaking it apart, revealing the guts. I plucked the processor and the memory from the wreckage and flushed them.
15. Be Still Me

Gia

**"H** ello?"

"Where is Josh?" the vampire asked.

Molly frowned across the kitchen at me. "Who are you talking to? When did you get a phone?"

"Yesterday, my new boss. I told you, I'm a working gal now." I pulled open the door.

She made a face and went back to slicing zucchini. She'd gotten it into her head to try to make Mom's eggplant lasagna, but her tiny oven had heated up her shitty apartment to torture-chamber levels. The muggy evening air was a relief.

I shut the door. "Am...reaking secretary?" I said to the vampire on the other end.

He was quiet for a moment. "You're with Molly?"

"Of course I'm with Molly," I snapped, clomping down the steps. It was way too hot for my boots, probably why they'd been on clearance, but I didn't care, it had been so long since I'd been able to buy anything new, especially shoes. "She _is_ my sister."

"Josh isn't answering his phone."

I stopped at the bottom of the steps, scanning the narrow strip of yard at the side of the house. Clouds were building up, blocking out the moon, but the streetlights bled orange across the weedy grass. Another quiet night. "He's a real asshole like that," I said.

"He always answers when I call."

"Is something wrong?"

More silence. Faintly I thought I could hear an engine rumbling.

"Aren't you coming back tonight?" I asked.

"I didn't go to the airport," he muttered. "I'm driving. I just got in the car and... . Just find Josh and tell him to call me."

"Wait, wait, you're _not_ coming back?"

"I'm driving back," he said. "I probably won't be there until tomorrow night."

I crossed my arm over my chest. "Why didn't you go to the airport?"

"Rafe," he grumbled.

I tensed. "You saw him?"

"Yeah... I killed the Minister too."

I flopped down onto the bottom step. "What happened?"

"It's not your problem."

"It _is_ my problem if it involves my sister."

"It doesn't involve Molly. It won't."

"Look... Nico, or whatever you are..."

"I'm still me."

"Are you?" I shot back. "Really?"

I was pretty sure I could hear his teeth grinding.

"What's it like?" I asked softly. "Do you really feel like yourself, just with the urge to drink blood, or... what?"

Silence.

"I don't trust you," I told him. "I don't like that you're still hanging around my sister."

"I would never hurt her."

"Yeah, well, someone told me that all vampires are liars, so..."

More silence.

"I killed someone I loved to protect my sister," I told him. "I only _kind of_ liked you."

"I'm not myself," he said, voice husky. "I'm not who I was."

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to make a snarky remark, something along the lines of, _no shit_.

"You're right not to trust me," he went on. "Except I'm not lying. I would never hurt her."

"But you might turn her."

"No."

"I can't believe you."

"I know."

I dropped my head into my hand. "This is seriously fucked up."

"You have no idea," he said. "Who I was... That's still me, but there's someone else now too... in here, with me. He _owns_ me."

"The vampire."

"The vampire," he agreed with a mix of misery and viciousness.

"But there's a part of you, still in there?"

"My soul," he said. "I wouldn't be there otherwise. The vampire can't exist without my soul because my body can't."

"Your soul," I repeated. "So that's why you want to protect Molly?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't my stepdad want to protect my mom? Why did he kill her? Why did he attack Molly?"

A long pause. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me you love Molly more than my stepdad loved my mom."

I wasn't sure if he was the one who growled or if it was a car engine.

"The point is," I said, "it's time for you to face up to some cold, hard, undead facts, lover boy. I'm sure that your soul is in there, somewhere. And that must be real shitty. I'm not going to pretend that what happened to you doesn't suck. And I know you were trying to rescue me and Tammy when you were killed, which gives me all kinds of conflicted feelings, honestly. But what's done is done. You're a vampire now. If you're asking me to just trust that you won't hurt my sister, that's never going to happen. Ever. And you can tell the vampire in you that if he even thinks about turning her, he won't just have to kill me... He'll have to obliterate _my soul_ because I will come back and go poltergeist on his vampire ass."

"Gia?"

I flinched.

On the steps above me, Molly. Tears were trembling in her eyes. My heart sank.

She held out her hand, coming down a few more steps. "Give me the phone."

Though the phone was still next to my ear, I couldn't hear anything.

"Molly—" I started.

"Give it to me!"

I handed her the phone.

She put it to her ear.

I held my breath.

A tear streaked down her cheek.

She took the phone away from her ear, staring down at it. From where I stood, I could see the words, _Call Ended_.

Her gaze tracked up to me. "You are going to tell me _everything_."
16. Miss Me?

Josh

**"H** e doesn't have many visitors," the doctor said as she guided me down the bleached-white hallway.

"I'll bet," I muttered in her wake. She wore flats that barely made a sound as she moved at a clip over the tile.

She glanced back at me. Behind her plastic-rimmed glasses, her eyes were bloodshot, weighted down by bags that no amount of make-up could cover. " _Normally_ ," she said, "I wouldn't allow anyone in to see him. But since _the Director_ has issued you a visitation pass I don't have much choice."

I offered her a reconciliatory smile. She frowned.

I sighed. "We used to go to school together."

She stopped in front of a metal door, painted white, and crushed her stack of files to her chest, eyeing me in a way that reminded me of my mother, like she could smell a lie a hundred yards out.

"He is extremely unstable," she said. "We've tried everything, nothing seems to help. Most of the time," she said with a weary breath, "he's sedated, to keep him from hurting himself or others. It's the best we can do for him."

"Is he going to be able to talk?" I asked.

She snagged a clipboard that hung by the door, scanning it. "His last dose was six hours ago. He should be... awake. But I can't promise that he'll recognize you and I cannot vouch for your safety."

As if on cue, a thick-chested orderly appeared behind the doctor.

"I signed the waiver," I said, "didn't I?"

She lofted a thinly manicured brow at me. "You're the only person who's come to see him other than his mother. And she doesn't even come around anymore." She leaned in, lowering her voice. "I don't know how you got permission to make this visit, but if you're here to... play some kind of practical joke or... for entertainment..."

"Shit, doc, really? You think I'm going to get off on this or something? I knew him. Before... Do I look like I'm here for fun?"

Through the haze of sleeplessness, her brown eyes sharpened. "Then why are you here?"

"Honestly?" I said. "I don't know. Maybe I'm hoping for a miracle. You're the doctor, is that crazy?"

She drew back. "We don't find that word particularly helpful around here." She nodded to the orderly, who gave me a dull, you-don't-know-what-you're-in-for-kid look and stepped between me and the doctor to unlock the door.

"We'll be monitoring your visit," the doctor said, stepping back as the orderly opened the door. "You have fifteen minutes."

"If you last that long," the orderly added, making an after-you gesture with his arm.

I stepped closer, peering into the room.

Brennin was wedged between the end of his bed—a mat on a painted-white box frame—and a shelf of cubbies that held a few books and clothes. He stared up at the rectangle of a window at the end of the room, which was filled with bright afternoon light.

I edged into the room. The orderly shut the door. Through the security glass window inset in the door, he and the doctor watched.

Brennin wore a white T-shirt and plaid pajama pants, white socks. I was actually surprised. The room was bright and clean. Aside from the sting of disinfectant, the air was cool, breathable, much nicer than the humid heat outside. One of the walls was painted a calm sea-green. And Brennin... he was pale, he was thin. He didn't look at me. His gaze fixed on the window above.

I kept my back to the wall, shuffling so that I was directly across from him.

I studied him. He looked different than the last time I'd seen him.

My breath hitched as I watched his chest.

It rose and fell, steadily.

He was breathing. Or at least, appeared to be.

A minute, maybe more, went by before I realized that he was looking at me.

And his eyes...

They were hazel.

A plain old ordinary shade of hazel.

But the smile that spread across his face was still predatory.

"Joshy," he said, grinning as if he still had fangs—but he didn't. "I knew it. I knew you'd come."

"Oh yeah? Miss me?" I asked, unable to look away from him.

Any minute, I was sure, he was going to vamp. He had to.

"I knew they'd send you," he said, "to finish me off." His mortal-hued eyes swept over me, searching. "What'd you bring? A hunting knife?"

"I'm not here to kill you," I told him.

His brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?" His face hardened. "I'm a vampire. You're a hunter. That's what you do."

"Not anymore," I lied, because I knew, though I still couldn't quite wrap my mind around it, that he couldn't tell that I was lying. Because, somehow, Brennin was no longer a vampire.

I leaned back against the wall, even though I was still tense.

"I don't believe this," I breathed.

He was still watching me. "Not a hunter anymore?"

"True story," I said.

"What happened? Get kicked out?"

I nodded. "Epic failure."

His eyes narrowed, not quite believing.

_That makes two of us, buddy_.

"For real?"

"Rafe killed my mom," I said. "And you..."

_Drained Molly_.

"... got away," I finished.

"Yeah," he said, still smiling that vicious smile, but it faltered. His head dropped between his arms and then slammed back against the wall.

I flinched and I saw the orderly and the doc flinch too, but they didn't come in.

"Something ain't right, Joshy," he said. "Something ain't right."

"No shit," I muttered, my knees weakening. This wasn't actually happening, was it? I fought the desire to go over and check his pulse.

"I'm not..." His gaze roved around the room.

I held my breath again.

His eyes finally locked on me.

"I'm not myself," he said.

I swallowed hard. "What... what happened to you?"

He frowned as if he didn't understand the question.

"That night, you... bit Molly."

That smile returned again. But it wasn't a vampire's smile, because there were no fangs behind it. Just a kid... not quite who he used to be.

"So pretty," he said. "She was so pretty."

"And then what happened?"

"Samuel," he sneered. "He came after me. We fought."

"Did you kill him?"

He shook his head. "No. He got away."

I ran my hand through my hair. "Shit."

Not good news. If Nico found out, he'd never leave Molly, not even for a few hours, let alone long enough to take out another vamp.

"I tried," Brennin said. "But I felt strange after, not as strong. I couldn't..." He frowned. "I woke up and..." He touched his chest, fingers digging. Suddenly, his eyes seemed to clear and he looked at me again, really looked at me. "I can feel my heart beating."

I licked my lips. "That's not possible."

He lurched forward suddenly. I may have flinched.

The orderly wrenched the door open.

"That's what I said," Brennin told me, clutching at the thin mat that was his bed. "Tell them, Joshy. Tell them I'm a vampire."

"Okay," the doctor said, stepping inside. "I think that's enough for one day."

Sweat ran down Brennin's temple. A fat, crystal clear bead of perspiration.

Here's the thing...

Vampires don't sweat.

But...

Brennin wasn't a vampire.

Not anymore.

"Tell them, Joshy," he said, teeth clenched, muscles and tendons taut cords.

"That's alright, Brennin," the doctor said, shooting me a look that was very clearly _get the hell out of here_.

But I had to tell him. I had to say it. Because even though the Minister had damaged Brennin's soul, even though I was sure he would never be the kid I'd known in high school, it only seemed right that someone tell him the truth.

I stepped away from the wall. "It was Molly," I said, holding his gaze. "Her soul. Remember? All those colors?"

His eyes widened.

"She's the cure," I said, hardly believing it as the words left my mouth, but they were true. The proof was sitting right in front of me.

"No..." he breathed. His face contorted. "I'm a vampire!"

"It was Molly," I said. "She changed you..."

"No!"

"That's enough," the doctor repeated as a nurse came in holding a syringe, escorted by another orderly.

"Welcome back to the mortal coil," I said, edging behind the orderlies, who were closing around Brennin, ready to restrain him. But he didn't fight.

He gazed at me, tears running down his face.

"My heart..."—he breathed as the nurse inserted the needle into his arm—"is beating."

"Yeah, it is,"—I paused at the threshold—"because you're not a vampire."

"I'm not a vampire," he repeated. And then he curled up, burying his face in his arms, rocking. "I'm _not_ a vampire. I'm not."

The beefy orderlies, the wide-eyed nurse, the good doctor all turned and stared at me.

I ground my teeth, watching Brennin roll onto his side, fetal, sobbing... human.

I struck the metal door jamb with my fist and turned on my heel, stalking out of the room, down the hall, through the security checkpoints, out to the cab that I had paid to wait for me.

The cabbie put aside his _National Geographic_ as I dropped into the back seat.

"Where to now, kid?" he asked.

"The airport."
17. Finally, Again

Molly

**"I** shouldn't be doing this," Gia said, pushing open the door to the house across the alley.

"You shouldn't have lied to me," I shot back as I stepped inside.

Immediately, the stench of garlic hit me. I bit my lip, blinking back another spate of tears. Ever since I'd found out the night before that Gia had been in contact with Nico, that she'd seen him, talked to him, that he was living in the house right behind mine, I'd been crying. It was annoying. I didn't want to be crying so much, I was just so angry and... I wanted to see him, so much.

She trudged across the empty room into the kitchen flipping on the light.

I blinked, my eyes aching.

Outside, the sun was setting. I'd had orientation that day, after a night of fighting with Gia, forcing her to tell me everything she knew, not sleeping—yeah, I'd learned a whole lot about my future alma mater. But I'd gone, which had been a feat all its own, considering. Although I hadn't made any friends amongst my new classmates since I'd barely been able to keep my eyes open.

I rubbed my eyes, scanning the bare counters, the furniture-less living room. It looked only slightly more destitute than my apartment.

"They live here?" I asked, dubious.

"Josh's stuff is upstairs," she said, crossing her arms. "And he's going to lose his shit when he finds out that I let you in here."

"And you care more about him than you do about me?" I asked.

"He's been watching your back," she said, coming closer.

"Spying on me," I said.

"Protecting you," she said, "which you suspected, right?"

I sighed.

Yes, I'd suspected that Nico was watching out for me. It hadn't occurred to me that Josh might be helping him, but then Gia had pointed out the tiny holes where the cameras hid in my ceilings and above my cupboards. Holes I'd just assumed were part of the rat-hole charm. And she'd explained how Nico had been killing other vampires to survive, helping the hunters.

Conflicted didn't seem a strong enough word for how I felt.

"Where does _he_ stay?" I asked.

She crossed her arms. "Where do they usually keep the corpses?"

My fingernails bit into my palms. About this, Gia had been merciless. She refused to refer to Nico as anything other than "the vampire" or "the bloodsucker."

"Show me," I growled.

She rolled her eyes and led the way down a hall to the back of the house, then downstairs.

I gagged on a foul, moldering stench. She flipped on a light as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

I stopped behind her, still on the steps, staring.

The walls were demolished. Gaping black holes revealing damp brick and concrete. Piles of rubble everywhere.

"No one could live here," I said.

"Of course not, Molly," she said, brilliant blue eyes hard as sapphires. "Because he's not alive."

I stomped up the stairs again, tears breaking free in spite of my attempts to hold them back.

Gia clomped up the stairs behind me, slamming the door.

"You wanted the truth," she snarled.

I stopped in the upstairs hallway. It was dark and barren. I faced her again.

"And I'm only sorry that I thought you might be able to tell the truth without being a bitch about it," I snapped and then stormed away again, out the front door.

She chased me onto the sidewalk. The crickets and cicadas screeched after us. A car peeled out down the street, leaving a stinking trail of burnt rubber and acrid exhaust. The air was heavy and hot and suffocating. I rounded the corner of the house and tromped toward the alley again.

"It's not my fault!" she called after me.

"You could've told me the truth from the start!"

"He didn't want me to!"

I halted again, in the midst of the alley—old, broken cement and stale puddles and the faint reek of nearby garbage cans.

She stopped at the edge of the narrow path between the houses and the alley. A streetlight stood at each end, casting weary light that didn't quite touch us.

"You're my sister," I said to her.

A glimmer rippled on the edges of her eyes.

"That's right," she said. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry you fell for a guy who died, but he _is_ dead. Why do you think he left?"

I folded my arms over my chest, chin trembling, tears slicing down my cheeks.

"Do you know why I kept it from you? Why he did? Because you didn't need to know. Because you're making it, little sister," she said. "I mean, look at you. You should be a royal screw up. You've got every reason to be, after everything. But you aren't. The universe was seriously trying to screw you and you gave it the finger... You think every foster kid with dead parents and an ex-con as a sister gets a scholarship to college? You think most people who've been through half of the bloodshed and the loss and the crazy-ass bullshit that you've experienced end up even trying to do something with their lives? Why should they? I mean... we're only human. We only put up with so much, you know? Before it's just too much. And then who gives a shit about doing the right thing, or being a good person, or even trying anymore, because what's the point?"

A brutal laugh scraped out of my throat. "Are you saying I'm lucky?"

She took a step closer. "You're breathing, aren't you?"

"I guess."

She shook her head. "Don't do that. Don't give up. Because if you do, then what has _he_ "—she pointed back to the dark, dilapidated house behind her—"been doing all this time? Huh?" She leaned in so I could smell her cherry-flavored gum. "You made a vampire... less of a monster. But if you give up, then what?"

I wiped the tears from my face. "I'm not giving up."

"Good," she said.

"But you could've told me the truth."

She leveled her eyes with mine. "You want him back."

I started to look away, but she seized my chin.

"Are we telling the truth now or what?" she asked.

I batted her hand away. "Remember what I said about being a bitch?"

"The truth _is_ a bitch."

I swallowed, painfully. "Yes, I want him back."

Refusing to let go of my gaze, she said, "He. Is. Gone."

"He's—"

"He told me himself," she cut in. "He's not who he was. Yes, his soul is in there. But the vampire owns him. _He_ said that."

I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes. "I know what he is, Gia. You think I don't know?"

"He hung up," she stated brutally. "If he'd wanted to be a part of your life, he wouldn't have done that. He wouldn't have been hiding from you all this time. He knows how it is, Molly. How it has to be. I lied to you because you need to forget about him. You're doing so great... I don't want you to stop now. There's nothing behind you to turn back for. Tell me you get that."

"What I get, Gia," I said. "Is that everyone around here seems to think they know what's best for me, but you've all been lying. I know I'm in danger. And while I appreciate that you've been trying to protect me, does telling me the truth really change anything?"

"We didn't tell you because we were afraid if you found out Nico was here, you wouldn't move on with your life."

I shook my head. "If that's what you think I've been doing, then you haven't just been lying to me, you've been lying to yourselves too."

"Molly—"

I held my hands up. "I'm tired, Gia. I'm going home and going to bed."

"What are you going to do?" she asked as I started to turn away.

I sighed. "Do?"

"About Nico—"

"What can I do? If he doesn't want to see me, then... that's his choice."

"Even if he does, you can't—"

"Don't tell me who to trust, Gia," I cut in. "Just... Don't."

"I'm getting my bow!" she called after me. "And I'm staying with you tonight, like it or not!"

I rubbed my eyes and trudged along the cracked walkway in the side yard toward the stairs.

Gia had been right. There was a definite skunk stink hanging around. I wondered if the exterminator had noticed or if I needed to call the property management company about it. For some reason, allowing myself to think about such mundane things inspired a fresh wave of tears. I felt guilty. As if I shouldn't have been thinking about anything but Nico.

But what was I supposed to think?

As much as it hurt, Gia had been right.

It wasn't like I hadn't suspected Nico was watching out for me. Or even that I didn't know he'd made the decision we'd be better off apart.

I even understood why.

But that didn't make it any easier.

And it didn't mean I'd moved on.

I rounded the bottom of the steps and started up, my nose wrinkled against the sulfur stench of skunk.

"Hello, Molly," a voice said from behind me.

My heart leapt into my throat. A hand clamped over my mouth before I could scream.

Samuel jerked me back against him.

I threw my elbow into his side and tried to rip away, but he slammed my head back against his chest, pinning me to him, his hand still over my mouth.

"Finally," he said against my ear.

Behind his palm, I screamed—uselessly—as a sharp pain pierced my neck.

All I could think was, _I can't believe this is happening again_.
18. Scuffed

Gia

**I** grabbed the crossbow and strode back outside toward Molly's.

Tempted as I was to give Molly some space for the night, fuck that.

Besides, I was a little bit afraid of what might happen when Nico got back. And I wasn't going to let Josh return to find me resting on my laurels. He was already going to be pissed that I'd busted open his covert operations or whatever. Not that I planned to apologize. Sure, I hadn't meant for Molly to overhear me talking to Nico. Honestly though, I was glad she knew. All this tiptoeing around behind her back had been bullshit and she had a right to be pissed about it. My only concern was she'd do something stupid. I knew how much she loved Nico... and how much he loved her. They were brain-dead over each other. It was a miracle Nico had kept himself away from her for this long.

As I strode across the alley, some bright orange muscle car rumbled around the corner.

I hurried to Molly's yard, holding the crossbow behind me before Mr. Testosterone's headlights hit me.

I wasn't interested in having any cops called because some privileged college boy had spied a girl with a crossbow skulking through the neighborhood.

Jogging, I tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. The shadows were thick at the side of the house and I had to bend closer to inspect the toe of my boot.

Scuffed.

"Damn," I muttered, gagging on the skunk funk hanging in the air.

A faint whimper drew my attention to the bottom of the stairs.

For one stupid second, I stared, not quite believing what I saw.

Samuel.

Feeding off my sister.

Through the shadows, I could see her, looking at me. Samuel hadn't noticed me. One of his hands was over her mouth, the other around her waist.

I snagged the crossbow and fumbled with the bolt. Luckily, it was already cocked so I didn't have to mess with it.

As soon as I had it loaded, I stood and aimed.

"Hey! Douchebag!"

Samuel's eyes rolled up to me, slowly.

I aimed at his head since that was the only part of him I had a shot at. But I didn't dare take it. Not with Molly right there. Not with my heart thundering in my ears, drowning out everything, and my hands slick with sweat and trembling. If I took the shot, he'd easily be able to duck away or put Molly in the line of fire instead.

A sticky knot of panic formed in my chest, choking me and bringing tears to my eyes.

I hated crying. And I hated panicking.

A wave of fury swelled up inside of me.

Snarling, I didn't think, I just charged, holding the crossbow out in front of me.

He ripped back from Molly. She fell to her hands and knees.

Before I'd made it to them, he was there, right in front of me. He tore the crossbow from my hands. The arrow snapped free, flying off into the night. He seized my throat.

I gagged and kicked him in the nuts. He winced.

Still works with vampires.

But not enough for him to let me go.

"Gia," he said, smiling, blood coloring his lips. Molly's blood. Red.

Suddenly, I hated the color red.

My fingernails clawed into his skin, drawing more blood, but his grip only tightened. My head swirled, both from the lack of oxygen and the stench. It was _him_. He was the one who stank of skunk as if he'd bathed in it.

"Now we can finally finish what we started," he said. "I'm going to—"

His head wrenched back and Nico sank his fangs into Samuel's throat.

Samuel's grip released and I fell, gasping for breath.

Samuel clawed at Nico's head, at his hair, his face. Nico seized Samuel's hand and snapped it back. The crack echoed. Samuel's eyes went wide, a pithy gurgling issued from his throat, but he seemed unable to pull away. Apparently, whatever paralytic trance vampires put on their victims also worked on other vampires.

Before I'd managed to catch my breath again, Nico ripped away from Samuel, who remained glassy-eyed. Nico let him go and Samuel toppled in front of me. I scrambled back.

In the next second, Nico had returned with my crossbow. He tugged one of the bolts loose and slammed it into Samuel's chest.

Samuel twitched, but it was clear that he wasn't long for the world.

Nico tossed the crossbow down before me.

"Make sure he dusts," he growled. His eyes were that freaky pale green hue—a vampire's. Blood trickled down the corner of his mouth and he licked it away.

Behind him, Molly was crying.

He turned. Just like that, he huddled over her, stroking her hair, his face all kinds of misery.

"I'm sorry," he said to her, though she was curled in on herself, face buried in her arms, on the ground. "I'm so sorry."

"Is she okay?" I croaked and then grimaced. Being throttled _hurt_.

He glanced up at me. Bloody red tears in his eyes.

Before he could answer, Molly lifted her head.

"I'm not okay." She grabbed at his T-shirt, her back to me. Her other hand was clamped to her neck. Her shoulders hitched and she dropped her face to his chest, sobbing.

I took the crossbow again and pushed to my feet, slowly. My head was killing me, along with my throat, and my knees were scraped—bleeding and stinging—from being dropped onto the sidewalk.

In front of me, Samuel, his already pale complexion turning a violet-ash hue. His eyes were fading from vampire hazed to a kind of ordinary blue color. He didn't make a sound or try to move.

Nevertheless, I bent over, cocked the crossbow again, and reloaded it.

Meanwhile, Nico appeared to have turned to stone. He was frozen, hands on the back of Molly's head as she cried like he wasn't sure whether to hold her or push her away.

And, truth be told, I couldn't say which I would have preferred either.

Mostly I just wished Josh would get back. Not that I needed a man around, I just needed someone who wasn't a vampire or in love with one to give me some thoughts on what I was supposed to be doing here.

I had enough of an angle that I could see when Molly lifted her head again and took her hand away from her neck—the blood.

And I saw Nico's vivid green eyes—they practically glowed—fade out a bit.

My grip tightened on the crossbow.

"It's never going to stop," she said to him in a terrible, dead tone that hurt my heart to hear. Hopeless, resigned. She held her hand out between them, the bloodied one like it was evidence. "It's not going to stop."

His eyes bleached. His lips parted.

I lifted the crossbow.

His gaze flicked up and held mine. His fingers, on the back of her head, threaded into her hair.

All the time, as he leaned in closer to her, to the wound on her neck, his eyes never left me. "It's alright," he murmured to her. And then he licked her neck and I nearly fired, but he drew back, slowly. No fangs. "I made it stop," he said, though it seemed he was talking to me more than to her.

Though he hadn't bitten her, that seemed to be the end of whatever resistance he'd been holding on to. He turned his face into her hair.

Of course, she put her arms around his neck.

In a quick motion I was sure no living person would've been capable of, he picked her up off the ground. She kept her face buried in his shoulder and I couldn't blame her. It was evident that even though I was the one holding the crossbow, and there was a vampire at my feet with an arrow in his chest, leeching out whatever had kept him walking and talking that if Nico hadn't shown up, Molly and I would both be dead.

I sort of recalled someone telling me once, "Vampires strong. You not."

At the moment, I wished Josh were with me so I could kick him in the shin. He hadn't been doing shit for my sister. And there wasn't anything I could do either. The only thing that could keep my sister safe from vampires was a vampire.

I lowered my crossbow.

"When Josh gets here," Nico said, his voice was a seething whisper, "tell him to fuck off."

"Gladly," I said.

He carried Molly upstairs to her apartment.

I watched them until the door closed. Then I looked down. Samuel's eyes were utterly blank.

I kicked him. My foot connected for a second, and then continued through. I yelped, stumbling back as his entire body puffed up in a cloud of fine dust.

Choking and spitting, when the air finally cleared, I looked down.

My boots were caked in vamp dust.

I threw my hands up in the air. "Great." I glanced one more time up at Molly's apartment, but what was I going to do? Even if Nico did try to kill her, it's not like I could've stopped him. Deep down though, I believed what he'd said about not wanting to hurt her. Or maybe I just needed to believe it.

Even though all vampires are liars.

I trudged back to the house across the alley to take a shower and clean my boots. I wanted them to be nice and shiny for when Josh got back and I kicked his ass. 
19. I Can Hear You

Nico

**I** sat Molly down on the toilet seat lid and gently pried her arms from around my neck.

She stared as if not seeing me. I worried she was going into shock. She hadn't lost that much blood, but any was too much, as far as I was concerned.

I started to turn, but she grabbed at me, catching my shirt with one hand and my upper arm with the other.

"I'm going into the kitchen," I told her. "You need to drink something... and eat—"

"I'm not hungry," she said flatly, her eyes glassy.

My head ached, which was strange, because I couldn't remember the last time I had really felt anything quite like a nuisance pain, not since I'd turned. Even when I'd tried to cause myself pain, it was never quite the same. It came sharp and hard and then was gone just as quickly. But this was like a good old-fashioned headache, building up behind my eyes, pressure throbbing in my temples.

I ran my hands down her arms. And it felt so good. I didn't want to allow myself to admit how good it felt to be touching her again, to be close to her, to look at her not from afar, not through a camera.

"I'm _just_ going to the kitchen," I told her.

She continued to stare at me, still not quite focusing. For some reason, I was having trouble sorting out where she was in terms of blood-loss. I didn't think she needed to go to the hospital, but she seemed so out of it, maybe I wasn't reading her right. Which was just another arrow to the heart, because I used to be able to read her so well I could hear her thoughts. But now there was nothing in my head but a dull pang that was growing into a pounding migraine.

I stood. She watched me as I left. I pulled a bottle of juice from the fridge. It all felt surreal. A part of me was struggling to sort out what had happened in North Carolina. I'd driven all day, wearing gloves, hiding my face behind sunglasses and a bandana when the sun had been intense, driving straight through, never stopping. I'd killed the Minister. I'd saved Rafe. After he'd saved me. That alone was enough to spin my head. But then what do I come home to? Fucking Samuel.

He was supposed to be dead.

Not that I'd ever bothered to find out for sure.

Stupid. That's what I was.

And Molly had been hurt because I'd failed to cover my bases.

Josh had failed.

Where was that little shit?

I pulled a mug from the cabinet, slamming it shut. When I saw him again...

A black blinding wall of rage flashed in front of me, but it wasn't Pencil-Thin Man's cold, flat brand of anger. It was hot and turned my stomach.

My stomach actually hurt. I stood at the kitchen counter with my hand to my belly, stunned by the feeling.

Then I heard her feet shuffling.

I turned. She was leaning against the doorway, watching.

"I thought you'd gone," she said.

She was pale and sweating, but then... it _was_ hot. There was a window air conditioner in the living room, but she hadn't turned it on.

I filled the mug with juice.

I put it into her hands and then herded her back into the bathroom and made her sit again. I would've put her somewhere else, but she didn't have any furniture.

"Drink that," I said. "I'm turning on the A/C."

"It's too expensive," she said in that same distant way like she was talking in her sleep.

Actually, I understood the feeling.

I kind of felt the same, like this was all a dream.

"Don't move," I told her. I tried to zip vampire-style from the bathroom to the living room, but I tripped over the peeling laminate floors.

I caught myself on the wall, staring down at my feet.

I _never_ tripped. Not anymore, not like that, not like... a normal person.

Obviously, the events of the last couple days had messed with my head more than I'd realized.

At a human speed, I walked across the creaking floors into the living room. I closed the open windows and cranked the air conditioner. It groaned and chugged pitifully, but cold air spurted out after a minute. I moved the floor fan so it was blowing the cooler air into the kitchen toward the bathroom and then returned to her.

She held the mug at her lips. Those big dark eyes tracked my every movement like I might disappear if she blinked. If that's what she was thinking, I supposed it was fair.

Taking a washcloth from a hook by the sink, I wet it under the faucet and knelt in front of her.

Blood had stained her T-shirt and smeared her neck.

Gingerly, I wiped her skin clean. I did my best to ignore the flickers of color playing over her, like the ghostly projection of a spinning kaleidoscope. It was easier than I anticipated, all I had to do was focus on her eyes and they were all I could see.

My chest coiled. The taste of her blood still in my mouth, in my throat—sweet and rich, like chocolate.

"My blood tastes like chocolate?" She snorted. "No wonder vampires can't stop attacking me. I'm vamp Godiva."

"Damn it, Molly," I growled, both relieved because she was obviously okay if she was making remarks like that, and because I wished she didn't feel like she needed to make light of a shitty situation.

"I'm not making light," she said, frowning, setting the mug down on the floor.

"I didn't say—" I dropped back on my heels, my hand falling away from her. I gazed up at her. "I didn't say anything."

She rubbed her eyes. "Yes, you did. You said—"

I rose to my knees again, grabbing her hand, and peering into her big dark, dark eyes.

And I thought, " _I was in North Carolina and I killed the Minister_."

She stared back at me, eyes still glazed.

"North Carolina?" she repeated in a whisper.

From very, very far away, as if across a whole freakin' Grand Canyon, I heard, in my head,

" _I was such a jerk_."

I scowled, not sure if I was just imagining hearing her, because I wanted to so badly.

Tears spilled down her cheeks again.

"Did you just say that you were—?"

"I was," she said. "I was a self-righteous jerk. When I told you, before, that you had to live a normal life because I couldn't..." She bowed her head briefly, sucking in a shaky breath. "I didn't know what I was talking about."

I clasped her face in my hands and made her look at me again. " _Molly._ "

She blinked, finally seeming to focus. " _I can hear you_ ..."

I nodded.

" _How?_ "

I swallowed hard, not wanting to say it, not even wanting to think it, but I did. " _Your blood_."

Her hand went to her neck again. " _There's going to be more scars_."

I caught her hand. "There won't be any scars," I told her. "The wounds are almost gone already.... . there's something in my saliva. I can make it heal, faster. Make it vanish."

Something I'd learned after Rafe had taken my blood to make my sister a vampire. Though it had only been five years ago, it seemed lifetimes.

Her voice regained some strength. "I need you to tell me the truth."

"Vampires kind of have a problem with that," I murmured. My hands slid away from her and I sat back on my heels again.

Yes, I wanted to kiss her. Probably about as much as anyone has ever wanted to kiss anybody. The tension between us was thicker than the humidity and more oppressive, but even though I could hear her thoughts again, and touch her again, I couldn't help but hate the reason for it.

Vampires. It was always vampires.

In other words, me.

I could only hear her thoughts again because I'd drunk her blood—drained it from Samuel and then licked it off of her skin.

And yes, I hated myself. I hated what I was. And whoever I had been before, my mortal self, he did not want vampire-me to touch her. He didn't want me reading her thoughts. He didn't want me anywhere near her. In this, he had a surprising amount of pull.

Because I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to bury myself in her scent and pretend just for a few seconds that the reason I could hear her thoughts again had nothing to do with drinking her blood.

But my mortal self was a real prick. He wasn't going to let me forget for a single human heartbeat what I was.

"You're right," she said, startling me out of my black meditation. Apparently, she'd been eavesdropping, because she said, "We can't forget. You're a vampire. And I'm..." She took a deep shuddering breath. "How many times is this going to happen to me? Maybe it would just be easier if—"

"No," I cut in. I didn't even have to read her thoughts to know where she'd been headed.

"I'm never going to be able to live a _normal_ life. Not unless every vampire in the whole world is wiped out."

"It's not as impossible as it sounds," I said, glowering at her, angry that she was even considering the possibility—

"If I were a vampire—"

I surged to my feet. "This isn't some fairy tale! You think because I love you that I give a shit about anyone else on this planet? Because I don't! I can't. Because _he_ doesn't."

"You haven't been killing people—"

"Because _he_ thinks it's _fun_ to kill other vampires. Using Josh and the hunters to find them... it's convenient for him."

I leaned over to look her in the face.

"You can't hear what he's thinking," I said.

She had that stupid defiant edge to her face, all pursed lips and hard chin and tearless black eyes.

"I can hear your thoughts," she said.

"Because I _drank_ your _blood_ , Molly. And you're not hearing _his_ thoughts, I promise you. Because if you could, you wouldn't even think about it. You don't want to know what it's like to have a monster in your head."

I knelt again, crowding her, though she refused to shrink away.

"A vampire killed my parents," I said. A vicious laugh left me. "And I saved him last night. Me, the real me, wants him dead. But there's this _thing_ inside of me now that had to save the monster who murdered my mom and dad and who had planned to murder me too. I didn't have a choice." I was so close I could taste her breath. It was sweet. "Who killed your mom, Molly?"

Her eyes trembled.

"Who turned your stepdad into a killer? What was it that made him go from a good guy, a decent human being, to someone who would break his wife's neck and then suck his stepdaughter's blood?"

Her gaze flicked away, but I didn't stop. Because I needed to wipe out any fanciful notion in her head that becoming a vampire was a form of salvation.

"Is that who you want to be?" I asked, cold. "You want to kill somebody's parents? You want to do to someone else what was done to you? You think you could stop yourself? You think you could be a _good_ little murdering monster? You think _I'm_ good? Because I'm not, Molly, I'm not."

She met my gaze again. "You're still in there."

"I'm in hell. And the _only_ thing that has kept this monster from ruling me completely is you. If you were a vampire too, there would be nothing left connecting me to this world. And since you can't read his thoughts, I'll tell you what _he_ thinks. He wants to turn you. He would _love_ to be freed of the last shackle my soul has restraining him. Then he would have everything and I would have nothing. That's what he wants. He's selfish and soulless and empty." I gripped the edge of the sink and the side of the toilet, caging her in. "And I would never do that to you. I would never let _him_ do that to you. I made that mistake once. I thought I was saving someone I loved, but I wasn't. I didn't. My sister would never kidnap and manipulate and feed humans to vampires like cattle. I don't care what they've done. Whatever is left of her, in that body, hates herself as much as I hate myself. I know that now. I didn't save her. I damned her. And I will never, ever make that mistake again. I would rather let you die. Because I love you too much to do this to you."

Her eyes were full on me, pouring into me. " _I'm sorry_ ," she thought.

I bowed my head. "Don't—"

She touched my cheek, lifting my face again. "What am I supposed to do? Living like this... always afraid... Is that even really living?"

My hand closed around hers. "I don't know the answer to that. I never will. But don't give up, Molly. Please. I don't know how you're going to get by or survive or deal or whatever, but you have to try."

She shook her head, a rueful smile bending the corner of her mouth. "You're giving me the same stupid speech I gave you."

"Except here's the difference. If you give up...if you— _when_ you die, then this game the vampire has been playing, pretending he's a crusader, it's over. But the longer you live, the more vampires he kills."

"So what? I'm supposed to live to be your martyr? The vestal virgin to your soul's fire? Am I supposed to lock myself up in a cloister tower so you have a reason to keep fighting the demons?"

She tore her hand from mine.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know I'm being cruel, but...You're the only person I've ever met who could hear my thoughts the way I could hear yours. And even though there's a monster standing between us, you think I don't know you're in pain? You think I don't know you've been suffering? Just because I couldn't hear your thoughts anymore? When I go to sleep, it's all nightmares now. I am always alone and it is always dark and there is always something... coming for me. I don't want to be a monster. But I don't want to feel like this anymore either. I know you need me to be strong, but I don't know if I can."

She raked her hand into her hair.

"I don't know if I can keep pretending like everything isn't completely messed up," she said. "How do I do that?"

My head, my stomach, chest, everything hurt. Because she hurt. I couldn't fix it for her. And I couldn't protect her from it.

"I don't know," I said.

She rubbed her temple with the heel of her hand. "I'm tired."

I picked up the mug and put it back in her hand. "Please finish this. You need to."

" _Even if you hide from me_ ," she said, as she drank the juice, mechanically, " _I'll know you're there. And it doesn't matter if there's a monster with you. It's still you. And I still love you. And I miss you._ "

My fingers clenched around the edge of the sink so hard I wouldn't have been surprised if I'd cracked the porcelain. " _I'm not here_."

Her face was impassive. " _Who are you lying to? Me or yourself?_ "

" _It's better..._ "

" _No, it's not. It's never going to be. Don't. Lie._ "

" _You'll find someone new. And it will get better. And I'll do everything I can to make sure you have a chance_."

" _Wrong answer_."

" _Molly—_ "

" _No, you're going to listen to me. You need me to be alive for you. Then you're going to stay here, with me_."

" _There's nothing in that for you_."

" _I'll go to college, get a job, make friends, pretend like I'm a normal person. But I'm_ not _a normal person, and I never have been. You need me to be here, to try. Well, I need you to be here, to try._ "

" _You don't understand what you're asking—_ "

" _You mean I don't understand that I'm asking a monster to be a part of my life? As if he's not already?_ "

" _There's no future—_ "

" _You're right. There is no future. There's only right now. And right now, you're going to stop arguing with me. And you're going to be here when I wake up. And you're going to keep on being here. And if there comes a day when it's time for you to not be here anymore, that's the day we'll talk about it. You think you're protecting me, but you're not. You're just pissing me off. And I'm tired, so just accept it and deal with it_."

She pushed the empty mug back into my hands and stood up. I stood with her.

" _I'm going to sleep_ ," she said. " _Are you coming with me?_ "

I gazed down into the bottom of the mug, stained red. " _I usually sleep during the day._ "

She crossed her arms.

" _Yes_ ," I said.

She shuffled through the kitchen into the living room. I set the mug on the counter.

She changed into a tank top and shorts and then sagged onto the mattress on the floor.

I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my shirt and sat down next to her.

"You shouldn't have turned on the A/C," she said.

"I own the building."

Her eyes were already half closed. "Huh."

I scooted back and pulled her gently to me. We lay down, together. I pulled her to my side and she curled against me, warm, her pulse, steady against me, echoing into my chest. I put my nose into her hair and breathed just to take in her scent.

In seconds, she was asleep.

Pencil-Thin Man remained silent. And for the first time since I'd become a vampire, my soul wasn't whimpering. All I could hear was her heartbeat, her breath, all I could smell was her hair, her skin. All the pains lessened until they finally faded away. As I laid there through the night, the only thing I thought about was how when she woke up in the morning the first thing I was going to do was kiss her.

And that's exactly what I did.
20. The Crazy One

Josh

**T** he moment I opened the door, Gia pounced out of the shadows.

"Where the fuck have you been?" she demanded.

"Casual swearing? This early in the morning?" I asked, dropping my bag onto the floor. Behind me, the sun was just starting to bake the pavement. I was pretty sure I could hear the dew sizzling.

"You were supposed to be back last night," she said.

"My flight was delayed," I said. "But I made use of my time by purchasing a new phone and a new computer." I held up the new laptop case. "Where's Nico?"

"Oh, I don't know, probably screwing my sister right now?"

I let the door slam shut. "I would ask you to repeat yourself, but I really don't think I want to hear that again."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want it to happen but we had an unexpected visitor last night." She crossed her arms, blue eyes burning through the dimness. "Samuel."

If she'd meant to shock me, she'd succeeded. Actually, it felt more like a punch in the gut.

After a few seconds of mental kicking at my bleary-brain, I finally got it up and running again.

"Samuel was here? He attacked Molly?"

"Yeah," she said. "And I couldn't do shit. We were both lucky Nico got back when he did."

"Wait, wait, wait." I waved my hand to stop her. "Samuel attacked Molly and he drank from her?"

It looked like she still might punch me. And while I could've easily taken her, I edged away toward the kitchen, dumping my new laptop case onto the counter.

"Yes," she snapped after me. "He sunk his goddamned fangs into my sister and drank her blood. And when I tried to stop him, he almost killed me too."

She lifted her chin to display the bruises on her neck. They were dark and ugly.

My teeth set. "Are you okay?"

"No! I'm _so_ not okay!"

I backpedaled toward the fridge, not wanting to turn away from her and get cuffed on the head for it.

"But Nico showed up and he killed Samuel?" I asked, attempting to put some order to the barrage of information.

"Yes!"

"And what happened to Samuel's body?"

The BTUs of her blowtorch blue eyes cranked. "You are acting way too calm."

"Sorry," I said, snagging a green-coffee drink out of the fridge. I popped the cap and tossed it into the sink. "What happened to the body?" I asked again and then chugged down the energy drink.

"It dusted. And it freaking ruined the laces of my new boots!"

I frowned, setting the bottle on the counter between us. "It dusted?"

"That's what I said."

I downed the last of the bottle and returned to the fridge for another. "Nico drained him...?"

"That's what it looked like. He sucked my sister's blood out of Samuel and then stuck an arrow in his chest. Then he took my sister back up to her apartment and from what I can tell, they're still there. But since you didn't leave me with a computer, I couldn't see the cameras, not that I needed to, because I'm pretty sure that what's going on over there is not something I want to see."

Finishing off another bottle while she vented, I set it down next to the first. "I need to see Nico, now."

I rounded the counter.

"I wouldn't suggest it," she said, following me down the back hallway. "He was super pissed. I'm pretty sure that if you go over there, he will kill you."

"How was Molly? She didn't need to go to the hospital?" I asked, tugging up the door in spite of her warnings.

"No. I mean, I don't think so. I'm sure if she did, he would've taken her and would've told me."

I shot a look back at her as we left the porch steps, down the back walk. "Suddenly you trust him?"

"I trust him to take care of Molly," she said, practically spitting. "Since I clearly can't."

"I'm sure you did everything you could," I said weakly.

The chain-link gate screeched as I yanked it open. In the alley, a beautiful Charger, splattered by bug guts, North Carolina plates and a rental sticker in the window.

"That extra mileage is going to cost us," I muttered as we left the car behind and crossed the alley.

"Yeah, I did everything I could," she was saying behind me, "which amounted to exactly jackshit."

"You're being too hard on yourself," I said, only half listening.

My blood was pumping and my head was splitting, and only partly from lack of sleep. I was worried. Things were skewing way out of control. And I wasn't entirely sure Nico wasn't just going to kill me the moment he saw me. I didn't have a knife or anything. But as Gia had finally learned, there wasn't really a whole lot we could do against a vampire truly set on killing us.

We rounded the steps up to Molly's apartment.

"God, it still stinks out here," Gia grumbled behind me. "Samuel reeked of skunk."

"To mask his scent," I said. "But he must've known that Nico wasn't around when he attacked."

"Why didn't you tell us he wasn't dead?"

We reached the top of the stairs. "I didn't know," I told her and then knocked.

We both stepped back to the rotted wooden railing into a ray of morning light cutting through the trees.

After a minute, Nico opened the door.

He squinted, hissing, not in a vampire way, just... a regular way. He stepped back. A cool draft of air swirled out around him. He was shirtless, his hair wet, a towel around his waist.

His eyes narrowed at me.

Still a vampire.

"Sorry to interrupt your shower," Gia said. "Where's my sister?"

After a minute of visually murdering me, his gaze slid over to Gia. "She's in the shower."

Gia stepped over the threshold. "Just because you're a vampire and can kill me in a split second, doesn't mean I'm okay with this. You were supposed to leave her alone so she could live her life."

His tone was as dull as his look. "Yeah, I told her that too." His eyes flicked back up to me. "Where have you been?"

"Saw your sister," I said.

His eyes turned to slits, his hand slid down the door.

"And I saw Brennin."

He frowned. "Brennin?"

Gia charged past Nico into the apartment. "Has she eaten anything yet? Did you remember that part, about how she needs to eat? Or were you too busy—"

"Drop it, Gia," I said, moving out of the sun, closer to the door.

Nico watched me like he was daring me to come inside.

But then Molly appeared, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, toweling her hair dry. Nico's murderous glare receded slightly, his posture relaxed.

"I'm fine, Gia," she said, as Gia opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of eggs.

"Fuck that. I'm making you breakfast," Gia said.

"You hate cooking," Molly said.

"Just more proof of how much I love you," Gia replied.

Molly drifted closer to me.

I shifted. The girl had some serious big browns that were deeply unnerving, or maybe it was the fact I knew she could read my mind if she wanted to. I preferred to keep my thoughts my own.

She set her towel down on the counter, stepped outside, and hugged me.

For a second, I froze, having forgotten the general ways of people who weren't, you know, undead or Gia.

With extreme awkwardness, I patted her back in return. She drew away.

"It's good to see you again," she said. "I mean, for me to be seeing you. Since you've been seeing me plenty."

"I took down the cameras," Nico reported darkly, looking like a dog who'd been muzzled and leashed and wasn't terribly happy about it.

"Thanks for watching out for me," she said to me.

"Please don't read my mind," I said.

"Why not?" Nico asked.

"I'm not," she said, shooting Nico an irritated look. "I won't," she said to me. "Come in."

She grabbed Nico's arm as she passed him, giving him a tug away from the door.

"Get dressed," she said.

Reluctantly, he headed toward the living room.

"Look who's all housebroken." Gia smirked as she cracked an egg into a bowl.

"Shut up, Gia," Molly said.

I closed the door behind me and slid over so my back was to the nearest counter.

Nico returned a second later, wearing jeans and tugging on a shirt, still glowering at me.

"Okay," he said, "talk."

Molly sighed and leaned against the wall across from me and Gia. Nico joined her.

"How do you feel?" I asked him.

His head tilted in a dangerous way. "Are you seriously asking me that question?"

I held myself still. "Do you feel different?"

"What do you mean different?" he asked.

"I don't know. Do you feel any different? Like... maybe a little less vampire?"

They were all staring at me.

"Less vampire?" Gia repeated like she was wondering which of us was the crazy one. The answer was her.

"No, I still feel the need to spill blood," Nico said, "particularly yours."

Molly put her hand on his chest, stalling him. "He _did_ feel different. Last night," she said.

Nico's shoulders fell again. "You don't have to tell him—"

Even though she'd said that she wouldn't read my thoughts, her eyes were pulling me in again, and I wasn't totally convinced she wasn't poking around my skull.

"He could hear my thoughts," she said. "I could hear his."

I licked my lips. "And now?"

She and Nico exchanged a look. "It's... fading," she said. "I tried this morning, but... it hurt him."

Nico's shoulder and his head slumped against the wall. His fingers threaded with Molly's.

I ran my hand over my mouth. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to tell them what I'd found, but then again, I agreed with Gia. I didn't think Nico was going to hurt Molly. Me, on the other hand...

"You're the cure," I blurted out, real eloquent-like.

Gia had just dumped the eggs into a pan, but she turned away from the stove to gawp at me.

They were all boggling.

Which seemed entirely appropriate to me.

"I saw Brennin," I said. "Well, actually, I saw Ennis first. She followed me to meet with Scott, he's... . anyway. He'd found a reference to confetti-colored souls like yours. But Ennis got to him first. She used her mojo to get the info from him. And she said something about Brennin. So I did some poking around. Turns out good ol' Brennin's been locked up in a psych hospital for the last couple of years."

"Years?" Nico said.

I nodded. "Yeah, that was my reaction too, which was why I wasn't here last night because I made a trip back to our old playground. I saw him."

"And?" Nico prompted.

"And he's alive," I said.

For a long minute, there was nothing but the pop and sizzle of eggs frying.

Gia charged over and shoved me. "Are you kidding?"

Nico pushed off the wall, squaring his shoulders, staring me down. "He's telling the truth."

"Wait," Molly said, holding up her hands. "What do you mean, alive?"

"I mean breathing, eating, pissing, shitting, one day dying, no longer a fucking vampire, _that_ kind of alive."

More staring and dumbfounded silence.

"Because of you," I said, pointing at Molly. "You could read Nico's thoughts again last night? After he drained Samuel of the blood he'd taken from you? Because _your_ blood is the cure. The _real_ vampire killer. The goddamned antidote."

"That's why there was a body," Gia breathed. "Peter didn't dust because he drank your blood. He _wasn't_ a vampire."

"Right. Or at least, he wasn't enough of a vampire to dust," I said. "Shit, Gia, your eggs are burning."

She spun and turned off the burner, taking the pan from the stove.

Molly edged closer. "So this means that if Nico drinks my blood—"

Nico snagged her arm, drawing her back. "No."

She stared up at him. "You said he was telling the truth—"

He shot me another deadly look. "He is."

"You could be human again. Isn't that what you want?"

"Of course that's what I want," he said, "but I'm not going to risk your life to attempt it."

"Nico's right, Molly," I said. "We have no idea how this works. Brennin almost killed you."

Gia turned back. "He _did_ kill you. You were dead."

"Yeah, but Peter didn't take nearly as much from me," Molly argued. "I didn't even go to the hospital."

"But Nico drank your blood last night," I pointed out. "Everything that Samuel took, right?" I asked him.

He nodded his head, vaguely, as if only half hearing my question.

"And he's still a vampire," I said.

"But that's why you could hear me last night," Molly said to him. "The blood you drank made you... more human?"

"Or less vampire," I muttered. "Either way, it obviously wasn't enough to cure him completely. And we don't know your stepfather would've stayed human either, had he survived. Maybe the fact that he didn't dust was only because whatever it is in your blood that... changes people back was still strong in his system when Samuel killed him. Maybe the effects would've worn off, like your telepathy with Nico has already."

"But Samuel dusted," Gia said.

"Yeah, but Nico sucked him dry," I said. "And Samuel clearly didn't get that much out of her. There must be a tipping point. Just drinking a little of her blood won't do it. It has to be a certain amount."

"A killing amount," Nico said.

"We don't know that," Molly said.

"We're not doing this," he said to her. "We're not even talking about doing this."

"Yes, we are," she said.

"I'm not drinking your blood," he said. "I'm not risking your life."

"It doesn't have to be a risk. We can figure something out—"

"No. We're not experimenting on you like a freaking lab rat."

"Brennin is alive," she said.

"You died."

"But I'm not dead," she said. "I survived."

"No."

"Nico—"

"Not going to happen." He turned and stalked into the living room.

She chased after him.

"That's our cue, Red," I said to Gia, wrenching open the door.

"We're just leaving?" Gia said under her breath as Molly and Nico continued to argue in the next room.

"Yeah," I said. "I have a feeling this is going to go on for a while."

She closed the door behind us and we clomped down the stairs.

"This is crazy," she said to me when we reached the bottom. "Brennin was really alive?"

"Yup." I cast another look up at Molly's door. "But Nico's right. This is too risky and we don't know enough about how it works to just let him bite her."

"Absolutely," she agreed. "But maybe you two male types didn't see what I saw up there. You know, that vampire licking my sister's heels. It's pretty clear to me she's going to get her way. So we need to figure something out."

"You're right," I said. "And I might know some people who can help, but that's not what I'm worried about."

She frowned. "What _are_ you worried about?"

I gazed at her. "Ennis."
Interlude

Rafe

**I** heard her approaching. Though light upon the sludge and leaf litter, her footfalls made the earth tremble. It seemed to take an eon for her to reach me. And she wasn't alone.

"He's there," she said. "Uncover him."

Hands began to scrape off the mud and leaves I'd piled over my body to shield it from the sun.

In essence, I'd buried myself.

Cool night air met my skin, Ennis's particular scent—smoky like coffee, sweet like pomegranate—and the labored breathing of whatever zombie she'd brought with her to do the dirty work.

The moment he'd cleared my chest, my arms, my head, I surged upward, caught the back of his hair and sank my fangs into his flabby neck.

He didn't struggle—an obsequious one. But then, Ennis's gift for subduing her chattel had grown impressive.

When his heart beat its last, I released him, my limbs flooding with heat and renewed vigor.

I blinked the film of mud from my eyes.

Ennis stood in her camel coat, some distance from me, her emerald eyes glowing in the dark.

"What are you doing here, love?" she asked. "And where's my brother?"

I pulled my legs from the sucking mud and stood, slowly. "Your brother was led into a trap by the Minister's dogs. And it's a good thing I followed him because he would've been dust if I hadn't."

"Where is he?"

"How would I know?" I growled, shaking the clods of mud from my arms.

Cool anger radiated around her, chilling the air further.

"The Minister is dead," I said, "by the way."

Her head snapped back toward me. "What?"

I smiled. "Yes, little brother dispatched her quite cleanly." I strode over and kicked my sword free from the muck.

"He wasn't hurt, was he?"

"No," I said, extracting the sword from the ground. "But I was."

Her response was biting. "Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"Why are you angry?" I asked.

"Because I was in the middle of something very important."

"And I was here saving your beloved little Nicolas."

Her anger ebbed away, at last.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Thank you for helping him." She came to me, finally. Taking a handkerchief from her pocket she wiped the muck from my face. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"What did you find out?" I asked.

Her gaze grew remote. "I don't know. Something... nothing... I was on my way home." She cleaned my lips and then kissed me, gently. When she drew back, she said, "Brennin is in custody."

I frowned. "Custody?"

"A state facility, a psychiatric hospital."

"What?"

"I was on my way to see him when my brother called." She stepped back. "He is alright?"

"Last I saw." I scowled. "Brennin is being held by mortals?"

She nodded. "If the information is correct." She slid her hands back into her pockets, shaking her head. "But now we have another problem."

"What's that?"

She scowled at me. "Mary."

My hand tightened around the sword.

"She and the Minister were close," Ennis said. "If she finds out that Nico killed—"

"They're more than close," I said grimly.

"Meaning?"

"Mary turned Adi."

Ennis shook her head. "Of course."

"And we should assume that someone in Adi's organization knew what was going to happen here. They were working with the hunters. That's how they lured Nico here, by using the hunters' network."

"But the ones who were here are all dead now?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes, but Adi has many followers and if they could track Nico down once, don't think they won't be doubly motivated to do so now. When Adi doesn't return. And Mary... she'll have felt it."

Her brow furrowed. "Felt what?"

"When someone you've turned dies," I said. "You can feel it."

"I have to find Nico. I'll take him out of the country."

"He won't go with you. Not without _her_."

Ennis's scent changed slightly. She was keeping something from me. But before I could question her, she said, "I don't know anything, not yet."

"What _do_ you know?" I asked, trying not to sound angry, and failing.

She gave me a piercing look. "I know that my brother has been working with the hunters and killing other vampires. Except now the hunters are working with the Ministry. Which means he's in even more danger than I thought."

"And...?"

"And I need to see Brennin."

I took a step closer. "Why?"

"Can you go to Mary? Talk to her?"

"And tell her what? That I really don't know who Cain is? Or what happened to Adi? Or that I'm sorry Adi's dead? I'm a very good liar, but not quite that good."

She bowed her head, jaw tightening.

"Besides," I said, "Nico's one of mine. And even though Mary was never onboard with Adi's ministerial practices, she belonged to Mary. If Mary learns the truth, or already knows it, she _will_ try to kill me. And she may succeed."

The sour tang of worry wafted around Ennis. I would have embraced her if I hadn't been covered in filth.

"But I have an idea," I said.

Whenever those eyes brightened, I felt lighter.

"The local hunter had to have been a part of this," I said. "And most likely the vampire as well, since he didn't come down to investigate the situation. I'll stay and... have a conversation with them. You go and find Brennin."

"I brought another," she said, chin notching toward the corpse behind us. "He's restrained in the van." She gestured vaguely up the slope. "Take him first. You're still weak."

"I'm fine."

A small, slightly melancholy smile touched her lips. "I love it when you try to lie to me. It's so... sweet."

"Shall I bury the body?" I asked.

"No," she said. "Let the animals tear him apart. It's better than he deserves. Trust me."

She started up the hill.

As I followed, I couldn't help but think that one day, she'd ask herself what I deserved and come to the conclusion that even though she loved me, or because she did, it was her ethical duty to deliver me justice.
21. Daylight Coming

Molly

**"W** e have to try," I said to Nico again.

He gazed at me from across the living room, expressionless, unblinking, his mind... closed. Between us, the couch. Upon it, Josh, computer on his lap, and Gia, peering over his shoulder as he typed.

Since we'd arrived at dusk, I'd been pacing. Somehow, during a long day of arguing, I'd managed to convince Nico to entertain the idea of attempting to become mortal. At least, he was entertaining it enough to allow Josh to reach out to the hunters—hopefully, to find a doctor who might be willing to offer some guidance on how it could be safely done.

I chewed on my nails as Josh's fingers flew over his keyboard. New messages kept popping up on his screen, but I wasn't close enough to read them.

"You know," Gia said, gaze flicking between me and Nico, "I hate to bring this up. I'm all for Nico having a pulse again." She flashed him a smile. He didn't look at her. He hadn't looked at anyone but me since we'd entered the apartment like he thought I might make a break for it if he looked away. "But if he becomes mortal again," Gia went on, "then who's going to stop the next vamp from sucking you dry, little sister?"

"I believe I asked that same question," Nico growled.

I met his glare with one of my own. "And have you forgotten my answer?"

Finally, his eyes shifted away from me. His teeth were set. Though his fangs were sheathed, I still felt like I could see them as he growled, "We can't trust her."

Gia held up her hands to interrupt us. "Wait, you mean, Ennis? The bitch who stuck me in a cage? The one who murdered Josh's Mom?"

Josh's lightning speed typing ceased for a split second. Then he resumed as if the rest of us weren't in the room.

"Technically, Rafe was the one who killed Tammy," Nico muttered.

"Yeah, but they're together, aren't they?" Gia asked.

Nico finally looked at her, and it wasn't exactly friendly.

I crossed the room and planted myself in front of him.

"I survived for many, many years without catching the attention of a vampire," I said. "Besides, it doesn't matter. We are going to try—"

He surged up, forcing me to stumble a few steps back. "I said I would _consider_ trying."

Gia appeared behind me, gripping my shoulders protectively. I touched her hand reassuringly. I wasn't afraid of Nico. At least, not on my own behalf. No matter what he said about the cruelty and bloodlust of the monster within, I just couldn't be afraid. Not of him. Monster or not.

Maybe it was stupid. Maybe I was setting myself up for some big-time trouble, but Gia and Nico were right. I was already in big-time trouble—constantly. I was one big colorful vampire banner of trouble.

He glowered down at me, ignoring Gia, again.

"I will _think_ about attempting this," he said to me. "But we are, in _no way_ , involving my sister. Or Rafe."

"Yeah, but they're already involved," Josh said, drawing all of our attention to him as he set his laptop aside, "aren't they?" His black eyes hooked Nico's green ones and held them. "Want to tell us exactly what happened in North Carolina?" he asked.

Nico watched Josh for a long moment in which it seemed neither of them breathed.

"You already know, don't you?" Nico asked finally.

Josh flicked his fingers toward his computer, never taking his gaze from Nico. "Just heard some real interesting stories."

"Oh, yeah? From the hunters?" Nico asked, the vibrant hue of his eyes paling dangerously. "Let's talk about the hunters. They were the ones who sent me to North Carolina in the first place."

Josh's eyes widened. "Wait a minute..."

"Looks like I'm not the only one who turned traitor," Nico growled.

"We don't know—"

"The Minister and a bunch of her lackeys followed me, cornered me, and nearly killed me," Nico said. "No, correction. Not followed. _Lured_ me."

Josh shook his head. "You don't know—"

"But you do," Nico shot back. "You don't want to admit it, but I can smell it on you." He tapped the side of his nose. "Remember? You know what I'm saying has to be right. The Minister's flunkies used the hunters' network to plant a lead, to bring me to North Carolina. They didn't know who I was. Even the Minister was surprised to see me. She had no idea I was the one who'd been snapping vamp necks. Which means they hadn't been following me. They didn't know who I was, so they didn't know where I would go. Only the hunters knew that."

"What about Rafe?" Gia asked. "You said he was there."

"Ennis," Josh hissed.

Nico nodded. "Rafe said she'd hacked into your email. She'd been monitoring it."

"You killed the Minister," Gia said. "Why didn't you kill Rafe?"

Nico turned his glare to one of the many dark corners of the room.

"Answer her," I said.

His eyes flicked over to me, and the color flooded back into his irises, thankfully.

"The Minister was going to kill him," he muttered.

"And you stopped her?" Gia asked, expressing what I felt to be the appropriate amount of disbelief and disgust.

But from the vicious sneer on Nico's face, it appeared Nico didn't share my opinion. "I didn't have a choice."

"Because he's your sire," Josh said, flopping back against the couch, shaking his head.

"Rafe made you into a vampire?" I asked.

Nico hung his head as if ashamed.

"And that means you can't kill him?" Gia asked.

Nico gave her another fierce, pale look that was unnerving me enough for me to step into him again, touching his chest gently.

"It's not your fault," I said to him. "You didn't have any control over it."

The hard edge of his jaw softened, the green in his eyes brightened. "I can kill him," he said over my head to Gia, "I just can't let anyone else do it."

Josh ran his hands down his face and then back into his hair. He stared up at the ceiling and then stood up abruptly, causing Gia and me to flinch. Nico was as still as stone.

"We need to tell people," he said, speaking mostly to Nico. "We spread the word."

"What word?" Gia asked. "What have you been sniffing and why didn't you offer me any?"

He rolled his eyes. "About your sister." Finally, he looked at me. "We'll tell everyone that your blood is the cure."

Nico's arm cinched around my shoulders and he pulled me to his side.

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked. "Why would we do that?"

Josh's eyes grew big, wild. "You said it yourself, the vampire doesn't want to drink her blood anymore. _You_ don't want to drink her blood."

"Just because my personal demon doesn't want to vacate the premises, doesn't mean others won't..."

Josh's head tilted. "Really? Ask the vampire what he thinks."

Nico was quiet for a moment. My hand was still on his chest. Every few minutes, a faint thump shuddered through his body to my palm, but most of the time, there was nothing. And I hated it.

So much.

I wanted him back.

More than anything.

"The Minister built an entire cult on the promise that someday she could cure vampires," Nico said.

"Yeah," Josh said, "but you saw through that bullshit. Even when you were alive, you knew what was really going on in the Ministry. Sure, maybe a few vampires felt guilty about killing people, so they decided sipping off a few willing souls was worth it. But you don't think that any of them ever _actually_ wanted to become mortal again, do you?"

Nico's arm slid away from me. "Are you saying that I don't really want to be mortal again either?"

"I know _you_ want it, Nico," Josh said, unflinching. "But your inner vampire's a real chode, isn't he? Grade A douchebag? What does he want?"

"I would do it," Nico said, "if I knew Molly would be safe. That she'd be okay. I'd become mortal again in a second and there wouldn't be anything the vampire could do to stop me."

"Right," Josh said, the smallest of grins tilting the corner of his mouth. "Because it's all about Molly, isn't it? Not just for you, but for the bloodsucker too. She's the reason you've been killing other vampires and not hunting the living. She's the reason you've been saving the victims. And she's the reason the vampire would be willing to let himself die and let you be mortal again. Because that's what _she_ wants." He pointed at me, but he stayed focused on Nico. "You, Nico, my friend, my comrade, my brother-in-arms. _You_ died for that girl. Because you loved her. And the vampire loves her too. But the rest of the vampires? What do they love? I will bet _my_ life that when word gets around what Molly's blood can do, why her soul is a pretty siren-song of colors, vampires won't come flocking. They'll run. To them, she's not a cure. She's poison. And none of us will have to worry about protecting her anymore."

"You don't know that," Nico said.

"True," Josh admitted. "But maybe we should test it."

"No," Nico said before I had a chance to speak up.

"Come on, man," Josh said. "We have to try—"

"Test it how?" I cut in.

Josh and Nico both blinked as if they'd forgotten I was there. I supposed that was fair, considering how they'd been each other's only companions the last two years.

"We bring in another vampire, tell them what Molly is," Josh said, losing a bit of steam, "and see what they do."

"Hold up," Gia said, stepping into the midst of it all. "That sounds like half a cock of an idea at best."

"Half-cocked," Josh corrected.

Her fists propped on her hips. "I said what I meant."

"Gia's right," Nico said. "You just want us to find another vampire and dangle Molly in front of him? I suppose you think I'll be able to protect her if your theory is wrong and he decides to make himself mortal after all? But while I appreciate your faith, I'm not willing to take that risk."

Josh dropped back onto the couch. "You're right. It's a shitty plan. But we are low on options here, _mi amigo_. You just seriously pissed off a whole cadre of vampires. And _if_ you're right about a turncoat in my organization, then we can't stay here. Maybe the Minister and her flunkies didn't know who you were, maybe they couldn't find you before, but now..." He shook his head. "Depending on which hunter is feeding them information... It won't be hard for them to track you down. They will be coming for you."

Nico deflated slightly. "They know now."

Josh sat up straight. "What do you mean?"

"One of them got away," Nico growled through his teeth. He shot me a look as if in apology.

"One of the Minister's guys?" Josh asked.

Nico nodded.

"And he knew your name? He got your scent?" Josh asked.

Nico nodded again.

Josh dropped back again, hands in his hair. "Fuck."

Nico was impossibly still.

Gia swore. "So what are we even doing talking about this? If a bunch of pissed-off vampires could be here at any minute to dust Nico, then we should be packing, not gabbing."

"I'm not running," I said.

They all looked at me. Josh, grim. Gia, annoyed. Nico... I couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling. And I hated it.

Gia reached for me, but I edged away. "Molly," she said, "you're not—"

"We also have to deal with Ennis and Rafe," Josh cut in before I could start arguing with Gia.

"What do you mean?" Gia asked.

"Ennis will figure it out," Josh said, "the same way I did. She'll know what Molly's blood can do and that means Rafe will too."

"You think they'll come here too?" Gia asked. "That they'll try to turn mortal again?"

Josh shrugged, eyeing Nico, who still hadn't moved.

"What do you say, little brother?" Josh asked.

Finally, Nico blinked.

"The vampire says I should just kill you all and call it a day," he stated flatly as if reporting on the weather.

Even I was chilled.

Gia took a step back. "Real nice."

"This could work out," Josh said. "Call Ennis. Set up a meeting. Tell her to bring Rafe."

"So you can kill him?" Nico asked. "You know I can't let that happen. If you try, I _will_ kill you. I won't have a choice."

Josh was stone-faced. "We'll test Molly on Rafe. If he tries to attack her, you'll protect her. And your sister will protect you, won't she?"

"She'll protect Rafe," Gia said. "And then it will be two against one."

"I don't know what she'll do," Nico said.

"We're going to find out one way or the other," Josh said. "Better on our terms and our turf."

"Yeah, I hate to bring this up," Gia said, "but have we all forgotten what happened the last time we had a little rendezvous with Ennis and Rafe?" She held her hand out to Nico. "Technically, more than half of us ended up dead."

Josh glowered at her. "I didn't say this was a good idea. But we are seriously up against it here. The Minister's followers are going to be hunting Nico down with extreme prejudice. Ennis was already on her way to find Brennin. She _will_ figure out what Molly's blood is capable of. So she might come here anyway, looking for her mortality. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm right and the rest of the vampires will run the other way when they find out what Molly can do. That would be good to know, don't you think? And when the Minister's followers show up, Nico's going to need some backup. And sadly, neither of us are really up to the task, Red."

Gia leaned in toward him. "You're going to ally yourself with the vampire who killed your mom?"

"He killed my parents too," Nico growled.

"Yeah," Gia said, "and as I recall, you also tried to kill him for it, more than once."

"And if he'd succeeded," Josh said, "he wouldn't be here right now."

She gaped at him. "So now we're all jumping on the _We Love Rafe_ bandwagon?"

"He's just a means to an end," Josh said.

"But what end?" Gia asked. "That's the question. What's the real plan here? We call Ennis. We meet with Rafe. If he doesn't attack Molly, we just assume that means none of the other vampires will want to either? Then what? We stay here while Nico, Rafe, and Ennis hunt and kill the rest of the Minister's followers before they can kill Nico? And assuming they're successful we then let Nico tap into my sister's circulatory system just for the chance that he might become human again?"

Josh and Nico shared a look. And then Josh stood, clapping his hands on his knees.

"Let's do it."

Gia stared. "I was joking. That's not a plan. That's just crazy."

Josh snorted, leaning over to grab his laptop. "If you think it's crazy, then it's probably a pretty good plan."

She kicked him in the butt and sent him toppling onto the couch.

"Damn it, woman," he said, righting himself again and snatching up his laptop. "Didn't anyone ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?"

"Yeah, that's why I used my foot," she said.

"I'll call Ennis," Nico cut in. "I'll find out what she knows. Where should we meet them?"

"It's not like they don't know where we are, and why," Josh said, still sneering at Gia. She stuck out her tongue at him. "I want them someplace with lots of visibility, nowhere to hide."

Gia crossed her arms. "Why? So you can go sniper on them?"

"Exactly," Josh said. "Distance and precision. If I need to, I can slow them down for a few seconds."

"There's a parking lot, out by the softball fields. It's on the edge of town and right off the old highway," Nico said.

Josh nodded. "I know where you mean. That'll be the place."

"This is nuts," Gia growled. "Isn't it?"

Suddenly, they all seemed to remember I was there.

Gia was right. It was crazy. There were too many what-ifs and so many things that could go wrong, and with our track record, they probably would. On the other hand, I wasn't going to run. I'd done that before, and it was no way to live. The only thing I wanted out of this was Nico, alive. If Nico had to ally himself with his sister and Rafe, if he needed to kill a few more vampires to protect himself, if I had to wait a year or two or ten, if I had to have another blood transfusion or spend another month in a hospital... I didn't care. Whatever it took to hear Nico's thoughts again, to feel his heart beating, to free him from this...

I looked from my sister to Josh to Nico and held his gaze. "Whatever it takes."
22. Like the Last Time

Nico

**O** n the porch step beside me, Molly. Her thigh pressed—warm, soft—against mine—cold, hard.

I turned the phone over in my hand, and over.

Summer haze hung over the quiet neighborhood, streetlights buzzing, TV light flickering coldly through windows, air conditioners chugging and rattling. Fireflies bobbed in glowing flashes through the weedy, overgrown yard. If we didn't do something about it, we'd get a citation. These are the mundane and pointless thoughts that slip through your head when you're trying not to think about the fact that you're about to call your sister and make a deal with the devil.

Or was I the devil?

I liked to think the vampire was separate from me—that lurking, Pencil-thin Man.

But when I thought about the fact that I might be free of him, my vision turned blurry and my body grew light, weak like it wasn't entirely anchored to the earth anymore, as if someone had hit the anti-gravity switch—the vampire's version of a panic attack.

And he was right to panic.

If I could find a way to make it happen, to kill him without causing Molly pain, then I would. It wasn't just what she wanted, I wanted it too. Yet, it was hard for me to know where he started and I began anymore. So I couldn't be entirely sure that some of the panic wasn't mine.

If I did become mortal, what would I do? And how would I protect Molly? Because even if Rafe found the idea of becoming mortal repulsive, even if 99.9% of the vampires in the world ran the other way at the thought of it, there was still a chance one of them would want it, maybe for the same reasons I wanted it.

"We can't trust the hunters," I said.

"Josh said they have medical facilities," she said, "doctors."

"Who can't be trusted."

"We'll need help when we do this."

" _If_ we do this," I corrected.

I glanced over at her. Her eyes were big, as always, kittenish. I hung my head.

"Don't give me that look," I said. "We've got a long way to go before we can even talk about it—"

"Don't you want—?"

"I already told you I do—"

"Then it's not _if_ ," she said, "it's when. You're going to be mortal again. One way or another. So get used to it."

"There's so much that could go wrong."

"Story of my life," she said. "Just call her."

I lifted the phone but didn't pull up Ennis's number. "You should be afraid, kitten."

"Of course I'm afraid," she said.

I frowned at her. "You don't smell like fear at all."

The black surface of her eyes seemed to tremble. "Maybe because I'm always afraid, so that's just how I smell."

A flare of anger shot through me when I realized she was right and I had never noticed. As familiar as I was with her scent, I hadn't picked up on the obvious resin of fear that encapsulated it, like a thin hard shell.

"I don't want you to be afraid," I said to her, touching her cheek with my fingertips, slowly, carefully.

Her hand closed around mine, hard. "I'm not afraid of you."

I slid my hand from her grip. "You should be, Molly. _I'm_ afraid of me."

"What about your sister?" she asked. "Are you afraid of her? Were you afraid of her before you turned?"

I gazed at her for a long moment. My throat tightened. "I don't know."

Molly kissed the corner of my mouth and it was all I could do not to carry her back to her apartment—I was careful. Like she was made of spider silk. But all I really wanted was to break through that fear-lacquered scent and bury myself in her and forget about the rest of the world and how messed up everything was. I definitely did not want to be calling my sister.

I let myself kiss her for a few minutes, because it never seemed enough, because I never knew when it might be the last time. Eventually though, I pulled back. _Carpe diem_ was a great motto for dead poets and living teenagers, but I was a dead teenager and I had to think about the future. I had to think about Molly's future. That is, I had to make sure she had one.

In a supreme moment of déjà vu, I pulled up my sister's number and dialed, ready to make a deal.

I winced when she answered and might have crushed Molly's hand a bit, because she hissed. But she didn't pull away.

"Hello?" Ennis's voice was so remote, so foreign, so... cold.

I closed my eyes. "It's me."

"I know."

"We need to talk."

"I suppose we do," she said.

"In person."

"Are you going to kill me, Nico?"

My heart panged. Is that what we'd come to? Is that who we were? Pencil-thin Man was unflinching, but my pathetic little soul ached all the way through. Once upon a time, this had been my sister. And I hadn't forgotten.

"No," I said.

"Do you know where I am?" she asked.

"No."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I don't want to play games, Ennis," I said.

A long beat of silence, of no breathing, no shifting, just dead air.

"I'm sorry, Nico," she said, her tone softening. "It's been a long time since... I saw Brennin."

"Josh thought you might."

"Is that why you're calling?" she asked, and abruptly emotion flooded her words, anxious, close, caring. "Are you going to turn back?"

Molly's head was on my shoulder, but I didn't know if she could hear Ennis or not. "There are things I need to take care of first."

The hard edge returned. "Yes. The Minister's congregation will hunt you. And her sire..."

I stiffened. "Who?"

"Her name is Mary," Ennis said. "And if she finds out what happened, she will kill you."

"She'll try—"

"No," Ennis interjected. "She _will_. She is ancient, Nico. Powerful. You do not want to face her."

"One of the Minister's friends got away," I said, a black wave of rage sweeping through me. Lionel, the son-of-a-bitch.

"Then you need to move."

My grip tightened around Molly's again. "I can't."

"Nico, think this through. If you want to protect Molly, then you have to get as far away from her as possible."

"If he comes anywhere near this town, he will know my scent. And I'd rather be here when he shows up than off hiding somewhere. I'm not hiding this time, Ennis. I—We're not running."

"I see," she said.

Though the words were like razors in my throat, I managed to force them out. "Will Rafe help?"

"Are you certain that's what you want?"

Actually, I wanted Rafe strung up in a cage, left to be pecked at by the birds until there was nothing left of him, not even dust. But if Lionel and this super vamp Mary were going to be knocking on my door, I'd let Rafe risk his neck to help me out. Sure. And maybe, with any luck, he'd be killed and I wouldn't have to worry about him anymore.

"Meet me here. I'll text you the place," I said. "And bring him."

I hung up, sent her the coordinates, and stood up, pulling Molly with me.

"So it's done?" she asked.

"No," I said. "It's only starting."

And then I kissed her like it was the last time. 
23. Room Temperature

Josh

**"W** hat are you doing?" I grumbled as Gia peered out the window.

"Just watching a vampire carry my sister back to her apartment," Gia said. She stepped back from the glass, frowning. "Can vampires have sex?"

I rubbed my aching forehead, staring blankly at the shit-storm of messages on my screen. Apparently, the hunters didn't appreciate my insinuation that one of them had been feeding information to the Minister.

"Not really something I want to find out," I grumbled.

"I mean, you have to have blood flow, right?" she went on, musing. "Otherwise, how can you get it up?"

I fell back, covering my face with my hands. "Why are we talking about this?"

"You're telling me you've never wondered?"

My hands dropped. "Seriously?"

She leaned back against the wall. "Then again, he can move around without a pulse, so maybe he can just... will it."

I let out a long breath. My phone buzzed. I glanced at the message. Nico had contacted Ennis. She and Rafe would be here tomorrow night.

Gia ambled over and plunked down on the couch next to me.

"We're all going to die, aren't we?" she asked.

"Someday." I tossed the phone aside and picked up my computer again. I sent a message to one particularly irate hunter: _FU_. If only all conversations could be so short and to the point. It didn't matter to me that I was burning some bridges by throwing out such a huge accusation on our boards, because apparently, some bridges needed to be burned. And with as extensive as the network was, there was no way for me to suss out the traitor on my own. Since I had no idea who to trust, I'd just make it so no one trusted anyone. Hopefully, that would shut down all the lines of information for a while, assuming that our mole was still helping out the vamps. The hunters had no defined leadership. At least none that I knew of. While there were plenty of people who took command when the situation called for it, there were lots of organizers and funders and people like Scott who preferred to sit behind nice safe walls and advise. But all past efforts to set up a governing body had failed for one reason or another.

The couch cushion sank as Gia slid closer. "Do you want to mess around?"

"No." I opened a chat with a hunter I had met personally once. A doctor. She was down in San Antonio. Not that I trusted her just because I had met her, but if Molly was set on making Nico human again, then we needed someone to help us out.

"Why not?" she said.

"Not interested."

"Why? You like guys?"

I rolled my eyes. "You just assume because someone doesn't want to have sex with you they must be gay?"

"Well, no one's ever _not_ wanted to have sex with me, so..."

I did my best to fill in the doctor on what we would need while Gia was inching closer, radiating heat and the perfume of candy. My stomach grumbled. I hadn't eaten for... I couldn't remember the last time.

"Then it's good that I'm saying no," I muttered, only half paying attention to her. "Obviously your ego is massively over-inflated."

She huffed but kept inching closer until she was right up against me.

The doctor wanted to know exactly why I wanted to let a vampire drain someone. She wasn't saying no, but she was clearly skeptical. Understandable. But I wasn't sure I wanted to tell her about Molly's mortality making magic blood just yet. Not until after I'd had some confirmation that vampires wouldn't find the notion appealing. I felt pretty confident about it, though.

I knew a few things about vampires. One of the first things I'd learned was that vampires liked being vampires. Plenty of them acted all tortured about it, yet I'd never come across a single case of vampire suicide, ever.

Nico was an exception. I felt fairly certain that if anything happened to Molly, he'd find a nice incinerator and throw himself in.

"Shit is fucked up," I murmured, thinking aloud.

"Exactly," Gia said. "And we might not be alive tomorrow." Her breath was hot on my neck. "So why don't you just take advantage of me while you can?"

"It's not technically taking advantage when you're practically begging," I said, at the same time messaging the doctor that I would get back to her with more details in a few days.

She pulled back. "Oh, I get it. You like it for a girl to act all shy so you can pretend to be in control?"

I picked up my phone and tossed it into her lap. "Do something useful and order a pizza."

She pouted as she dialed. "How did I end up with Commando Prude while Molly's over there having hot vampire sex?"

"It's probably not all that hot," I said. "He usually runs about room temperature."

She stuck her tongue out. The pizza place picked up. "Hi," she said, sinking into the couch. "I'd like to order a pizza."

I closed my computer and strode into the kitchen. I opened the freezer. I closed my eyes as a frigid blast of air swept over my face.

"What kind do you want?" she called.

"Anything but pepperoni, pineapple, and jalapeno."

She laughed. "Just give me the supreme, no pepperoni."

"Get two," I called. "I'm starving."

"Two of the biggest supreme pizzas you have," she said. "And you better hurry. My boyfriend has blood sugar issues and a lot of guns. Haha. Just kidding."

"Not your boyfriend!"

But she was too busy giving them the address.

I scraped some of the frost off the sides with my fingers and ran them over my forehead and into my hair. I stared into the empty freezer, my stomach both rumbling and churning. My temples throbbed.

I couldn't let anything go wrong this time. If Molly was hurt, Nico would lose his shit and he'd probably kill us all before he offed himself. Gia was a pain in the ass and drove me crazy, but she was smoking hot and she smelled really, really good. Also, I was running dangerously low on allies these days. Somehow, she'd ended up being the only one I could trust. Having sex with her would only complicate things and my life was already way too complicated.

I shut the freezer door. Gia stood on the other side, smirking.

"Whatcha thinking about?" she asked like she already knew.

Thank god she wasn't a mind-reader like her sister.

"Guns," I said, striding around her and grabbing the keys off the counter.

"Where are you going?" she called.

"To the storage unit," I said, opening the door to the stairs. "Don't eat my pizza."
Interlude

Ennis

**I** waited in the car at the airport. Rafe had a thing for Audis so that's what I drove. The A/C hissed cold air over me, though I didn't need it. While I could tell it was muggy, I no longer suffered the discomfort of perspiration. Moths and flies and all manner of light-seeking nocturnal insects swarmed the rows of parking lot lamps.

I remembered a time which seemed ages ago but was really little more than a decade, when I had sat in another Audi on another oppressive summer night, watching the bugs mug a solitary streetlight outside a rundown concrete building near a stagnant city river. Inside that building, a vampire named Salome had my little brother. Rafe had told me to wait in the car. But I didn't wait. Because I didn't trust him. In fact, I hated him with a passion I hadn't known I was capable of.

He'd used me, made me fall in love with him, and then he'd murdered my father and my stepmother and taken my little brother.

Years later, when I had woken, a vampire, I'd been enraged. But I'd never blamed Nico. I understood why he'd done it. And I'd been glad. Someone needed to watch out for him. He'd still been so young. He still _was_ so young.

No, I'd hated Rafe. Not even because he'd murdered my father and my stepmother and betrayed me. Once I'd become a vampire, I'd hated him because the new creature within me... it understood him.

When he'd begged for forgiveness, I hadn't been the one who'd forgiven him. It was the vampire.

She loved him.

But me?

I'd never forgiven him.

My fingers drummed the steering wheel. I checked my watch. Rafe's plane would just be arriving. We'd have to drive all night and find a hotel.

Nico needed me. I was going to be there for him.

I wasn't sure Rafe understood. I knew he loved me. He did what I asked, what I wanted because he didn't want to lose me again. But did he know just how far I would go to keep my brother safe? I wasn't sure I even knew the answer to that question. I had always taken care of Nico and I always would.

The terminal's automatic glass doors opened and released a weary-looking family—Mom, Dad, small girl with pigtails sleeping in his arms. They squinted around the parking lot like people arriving from another planet, not knowing where they were or if they should take another step into this dark world. The mom wiped her forehead as if she'd started sweating the second she'd stepped outside. And then she sighted their car and they trudged off with purpose, hauling rolling suitcases. Around them, a haze of light. Grayish. Their souls. It bobbed slightly above them as they threaded between the cars. Nothing extraordinary about their souls.

And yet...

My throat clenched. My mouth dried. My gums ached slightly as I tracked the family's joined soul-light until it was obscured by a row of high-profile vehicles.

That's how I felt. Like a predator, lying in wait. And this dark, hot world was full of nothing but prey.

I didn't want to feel this way. I didn't like feeling it. I had no desire to hurt that family, to destroy it. I hated the urge, actually.

Ever since I'd turned, I'd done my best to balance my need to kill with what seemed to do the least harm. But it was hard. And it was growing harder. Even though I stalked and trapped and subdued all of my victims, lightening their souls until they were acceptable. Something about the process felt... unnatural. Like I'd put the vampire on a diet. It was not sated.

A moment later, the doors slid open again and a tall, dark-haired man stepped out into the night.

As usual, I tensed. A tight, straining sensation pulled at my chest. A tug-o-war, between my hate and love—all passion.

Though he'd been recently injured, Rafe moved smoothly. He didn't hesitate as the family had done but strode straight to me.

As a level-headed teenager, I'd been too swept up by his crystalline-blue eyes and his impossibly perfect face to see the monster underneath. Not that it would have ever occurred to me that he was a vampire. Or a murderer. Even if it had, I wasn't certain it would've kept me from him. I'd never been in love before. I hadn't realized how incredibly stupid it could make an otherwise reasonable person. Not until I'd experienced it.

He tugged open the passenger side door and slid inside. His button-down was wrinkled and his hair disheveled.

"There's blood on your pants," I said. The stain wasn't visible. His pants were black. But I could smell it. The tang of iron, the hint of salt, the sweetness...

"I know," he said. "But I didn't have any others." He shut the door.

I put the car into drive, stopping at the pay station, before heading out to the highway. Though it was still fairly early, there was little traffic.

"What did you find out?" I asked.

"Pull over."

"We need to drive straight through the night."

He seized the wheel with one hand and gave it a shove toward the shoulder.

I slammed on the brakes. My fangs pushed out fully as we screeched to a halt in a swirl of dust and dirt.

I pushed the gearshift into park.

"Goddammit!"

But he was already out of the car.

After a moment, in which I managed to retract my fangs, I opened my door and joined him on the shoulder.

Outside, a field, lit by the slow dancing of fireflies, the constant drone of cicadas, the roar of a passing engine.

Rafe stood on my side of the car, arms crossed, eyes that cold blue, the hue of a far-off planet, frozen, lifeless, mesmerizing.

"What is wrong?" I demanded.

"You tell me."

I leveled my gaze at him. "Nothing is wrong. Everything is just as screwed up as it ever was. Happy?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, dear heart, when you are miserable, so am I." He leaned against the car, glowering out at the field. "And since I just went through quite an ordeal to make you happy, I'm somewhat disappointed that my efforts seem to have been for naught."

I kicked the door shut and stalked down the shoulder and back again. Another car passed but didn't slow. The driver didn't even look in our direction.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm not... I'm worried, is all."

"You're always worried," he said. "But has it occurred to you that Nico is not a child any longer? He hasn't been for some time. Nor is he incapable of taking care of himself."

"Molly's blood is a cure," I said.

Rafe pushed away from the car. "Say again?"

"I saw Brennin. He's mortal again."

A furrow dug into the smooth skin between his brows. "Mortal?"

"Because he drank Molly's blood. That's why her soul is in color."

Rafe stepped back, looking around as if someone might be listening, other than the insects.

"Does Nico know—?"

I nodded. "And I think... he's going to try it."

Rafe's confused expression edged toward bewildered. "What... He's willing to kill her?"

"She's not dead," I pointed out. "She survived Brennin's attack. And I assume Nico thinks she'll survive again if he drinks her blood. I don't know. That's one of the reasons we're going to see them."

Rafe raked his fingers back into his hair. "I don't believe it."

"Neither did I," I said, "but I saw Brennin myself. I could hear his heart beating, his lungs breathing." My hand went to my chest and my lungs pulled in a deep breath as if remembering that they could, but then they fell limp inside me again. "What did you find out?"

He grew grim. "There's one less vampire and hunter in the world, but I didn't get much from either of them. Whoever set Nico up simply used them. But I'm not sure it matters anymore who the hunter is that's helping the Minister's congregation, because I did find out that Mary is on the move."

I leaned a hand against the roof of the car. "How do you know that?"

"With some gentle persuasion, the hunter was kind enough to allow me to peruse their network alerts. Since Mary does not often travel, her sudden departure drew quite a bit of attention."

My teeth ground. "She's coming for him?"

"I would think so."

"But she couldn't have found him so quickly, could she?"

He shifted closer. "It's possible she doesn't know and she's only hunting him now. It's also possible she knew who he was all along."

I bit my lip.

"It's also possible that she won't be alone."

I scowled up at him. "What do you—?"

"The hunters post all suspicious and unusual movements of the vampires they track. In addition to Mary's departure, it was noted that the remainder of Adi's loyal adherents had also packed up and moved out."

My hand flew to my mouth. "Oh, god."

"You need to call Nico and warn him."

I nodded and pulled my phone from my pocket, but stopped before I dialed.

I looked up at Rafe again. With the tips of my fingers, I touched his chest.

"Thank you."

His face was like chiseled marble. "Did you think I wouldn't help you?"

My fingers curled in his shirt, gripping it. "I think... I'm changing."

His hand wrapped around mine. "I'm sorry."

I held his gaze, searching that remote frozen landscape for some sign of life. "Are you?"

He lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently. "Your suffering is mine, love." He held my hand to his chest again, to that heart that was still and silent. "Whatever you need, whatever you want, all you need do is speak it."

"And if I tell you to leave?"

"Then I'll go."

"But you won't, really," I said. "You never really left me. All those years, you were always there, watching, waiting. What were you waiting for?"

His lips pursed and it seemed like he might not answer, but then, after a long moment, he said, "I was waiting for you to need me again."

The tug-o-war in my chest pulled and pulled, so taut it felt like I might tear in two. "Well, I do," I said, "now."

He touched my cheek and I couldn't help it. I leaned into his touch. When he kissed me, all the world, all the prey, all the life, all the light, it vanished. And there was nothing but a dark, empty, lifeless world and us.

Our lips parted and a pinkish, warped filter of tears had formed in my eyes.

His forehead pressed to mine. "Tell me."

"I just want him to live," I said. "That's all I've ever wanted."

"Then he will." He kissed my forehead. "I swear it."

As he gazed down at me, I couldn't help but think those lorn, chilled eyes were the last ones to see my father alive. And I hated it. I hated the thought, I hated the truth, I hated Rafe, and above all, I hated myself.

I closed my eyes and kissed him again.

"Thank you."
24. Fire Is Nothing But Light

Molly

**"W** e have a problem," Nico said after dragging me across the alley up and up the back stairs to where Josh and Gia were sitting on the floor, surrounded by pizza boxes and various weapons.

My stomach rumbled but then twisted into a queasy, sour knot. I pried my hand from Nico's grip and dropped onto the couch, closing my eyes. I was exhausted, both from Samuel's attack and all the anxiety and because, as a vampire, Nico had the stamina to last until the next century.

"Sorry," Josh said, his back to the wall, a long black rifle across his lap. "I'm not taking any more problems. All full up. Try back next month."

Nico's tone remained flat and hard. "Ennis just called."

"This story isn't going to have a happy ending, is it?" Josh grumbled.

"Do you know of a vampire named Mary, from Nashville?"

Josh let out a heavy sigh. "If I did?"

"Ennis thinks she might be on her way here."

"The last time Mary left Nashville was in 1900," Josh said. "She was invited to what would go down as one of the greatest parties in New York City's history. Are we having a party that I didn't know about? And what am I going to wear?"

"Machete?" Gia offered.

"Apparently, Mary was the Minister's sire," Nico stated, unmoved by the banter.

"Of course she was," Josh said. "Because my life is just too fucking easy. Red, laptop, please?"

I cracked my bleary eyes open as Gia handed Josh the laptop, then scooped up her pizza box, stepped over the array of knives and guns and boxes of bullets to join me on the couch.

She plunked the box onto my lap. "Pizza?"

My lip curled. "Supreme?"

She flashed me a grin.

"I don't suppose," Josh said, fingers flying over his keyboard, "your sister had any more information. That is, if Mary actually knows where you are?"

"I want to get Molly out of here."

"No," I said, closing the pizza box and plunking it down on the floor.

"Listen to your girl," Josh said, though he didn't look happy about it. "Ennis and Rafe are on their way, right?"

In response, Nico glowered.

"So..." Josh went on as if Nico had replied, "we go ahead with our rendezvous as planned. We feel out Rafe's response to Molly and we have a nice, blood-free chat with big sis about this little kerfuffle we've gotten ourselves into with the Minister's friends."

"Did you just use the word kerfuffle?" Gia asked, snagging the pizza box again and taking a slice.

Josh's gaze scanned the computer screen. "Fuck me."

"Been trying," Gia muttered.

I made a face at her.

She shrugged. "He's colder than a vampire."

Josh rubbed his eyes. "Mary _has_ left her nest, and so have a dozen other vampires associated with the Minister." His head thumped against the wall behind him as he swore again.

I wanted to stay calm, but my heart started pounding anyway.

Nico's hand rested on my shoulder. I glanced up at him, at those preternatural green eyes, so bright and vivid and... wrong. I looked away, my eyes burning.

He leaned down close. "It'll be okay."

"I may not be able to read your mind," I said, swallowing back the tear-knot in my throat, "but I know when you're lying. You don't have to." I met his gaze again. "I am accustomed to the shittier aspects of the crapfest that _is_ my life."

Tears glimmered in his eyes, a hazy pink film muting the brilliant green, but he didn't look away from me.

"I like how you pay attention," he said softly.

Damn it.

A tear escaped and slid down my cheek, but before I could wipe it away, he kissed it, catching it before it had rolled off my chin. And then he kissed me.

"Will you two knock it off?" Gia said. "You know, for those of us who can't get any action. No matter how nicely we ask."

"We proceed with the plan," Josh stated once Nico had straightened up, though his hand was still in my hair.

Gia swallowed her pizza. Sauce sat on the corner of her lip, red. She wiped it away. "Yeah, but wasn't the plan to convince Rafe and Ennis to join Nico in hunting these vamps down? Now we find out that they're coming here?"

Josh gazed blankly at the middle distance.

"Hello?" Gia waved her hand in his direction.

"I'm thinking," he growled.

"We're going to do what they did to me," Nico said.

Josh's eyes flicked up, his lips pressed into a bloodless line. "It's not going to be that easy. Mary... she's old, really, really."

"So what?" Gia asked. "Are old vampires stronger?"

"Stronger, smarter, and they don't fuck around," Josh muttered. "Luring in the Minister's flunkies would be one thing, most of them are newbies. Real old vamps, they don't buy into that crap anymore. They don't want to."

"Except the Minister..." Nico said.

"She wasn't buying, she was selling."

"She believed her lies," Nico said.

Josh eyed him. "Yeah, well, lots of us do." He ran his hands over his face. "We need Rafe and Ennis, for reals. Check that. _You_ need them, brohiem."

"They're on their way," Nico said.

"How long has it been since you checked your boundaries?" Josh asked.

"Since before I left."

"And how long do you think you can stay in incognito mode?"

"What's that?" Gia asked.

"Nico can hide his scent from other vampires," Josh said. "Just one more thing that makes him so gosh-darned special."

"I don't know," Nico said. "It takes concentration."

"You're about to test your concentration then. Try to stay scentless."

"Until?"

"Until Mary and all of the Minister's cronies are dead."

"And how are we going to manage that?" Gia asked.

"The only thing you need to manage, Red, is to stay out of the fucking way," Josh said, glaring at her from the tops of his eyes. "What's the likelihood you can do that, scale one to ten? One, you keep your head down and your mouth shut. Ten, I end up having to kill you myself. What do you think?"

Gia smiled sweetly at him. "I think you are the King of assholes."

"I prefer president. I like to think that there was some kind of democratic process involved. You know, the majority vote agreeing that I am the asshole-in-charge."

"You are _so_ not in charge," Gia said. "But if that's the lie you need to tell yourself—"

"What _is_ the plan?" Nico asked.

"Well," Josh said, setting aside his laptop, "while it's still dark out, why don't you go and patrol? See if you can pick up anything. I'll check the airlines, public transit, the hunter's boards—"

"Are you sure you can trust them?" Nico said. "I'm surprised they're still posting—"

"Things have been quiet lately," Josh said, strangely, smiling, "but Mary leaving Nashville... in our circles, that's what happens right before the four horsemen show up."

"Or in this case, thirteen pissed off vampires," Gia chimed in.

The boys frowned at her. But as usual, Gia was unaffected.

"And what am I supposed to do?" I asked, looking up at Nico.

"Ah, I am so glad you asked," Josh said, pushing up to his feet, laptop in hand. "When I said that _I_ would be looking into those things, what I really meant was that _you_ will be looking into those things, research buddy, old pal." He took a long step over his weapons to hold the computer out to me. "I believe you will be able to find all the necessary equipment in my room, ready to hack."

I took the computer from him. "What are you going to do?"

He smiled. "See a guy about a flamethrower?"

I stared up at him. "Please tell me you're joking."

He gazed innocently back down at me. "I am joking."

"You're not joking, are you?"

"Not at all."

"Do they even still make those things?" Gia asked.

"Yes, they do," Josh said, smile widening, eyes brightening.

"You are so weird," Gia said, shaking her head. "And what am I supposed to do while you're gone?"

Josh turned and lifted a rifle. "Your sister here once told me your stepdad used to take you target shooting."

Gia wiped her greasy hands on her jeans. "Good old-fashioned family fun."

"There are cameras all around the house. When Nico and I leave, we'll set the alarms. If those alarms go off before we get back. You are going to point this at whatever shows up and shoot."

Gia's gaze ran over the rifle. "I've never used a gun like that."

He slung the rifle over his shoulder. "Walk with me." He strode toward the door, pausing beside Nico. "Stay in contact."

"Yes, Commander-in-Chief Asshole, sir," Nico said.

"Hey, the sense of humor returns," Josh said. "Maybe you're not so far gone after all. Red?"

Gia stood and followed Josh out of the second-floor apartment, down the stairs.

Nico bounded over the back of the couch and landed next to me. I held tight to the computer to keep it from springing off the couch.

He kissed me and then pressed his nose against my temple.

"I don't want to leave you here."

I met his eye. "I'll be okay."

"Wow. You're right," he said. "This lying thing is big-time bullshit."

"Really," I said. "My sister has a high-powered semi-automatic weapon. I mean, what could go wrong there?"

He combed his fingers through the back of my hair. "Josh wouldn't give it to her if he didn't think she could handle it."

"Yeah, well, I think Josh is kind of in love with her."

Nico seemed to think on it. "Have you read his mind?"

"No. I said I wouldn't, and I haven't." I held his gaze. "Does love have a smell?"

"Most definitely."

"Don't tell me if Josh is in love with Gia. I want it to be a surprise."

"I thought you were going to ask me what your love smells like."

I gazed at the computer screen: dozens of posts about vampire activity all over the country. It had been so long since I'd visited this forum. Honestly, I hadn't expected to be scrolling through them again. I wasn't sad about it, exactly. Mostly, I was resigned.

My blood was the cure for vampirism. If I'd had any notion of being freed from this shadow world, then it was long gone now. Even if I got Nico back, if we made him mortal again, I knew that I would always be involved in the world of vampires, one way or the other. Actually, the worst part was how easily it all came back to me—survival mode. As I'd told Nico though, I never stopped being afraid. Never.

"I want that to be a surprise too," I said, more to myself than to him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean when I can read your mind again," I said, "I'll find out."

Though the vampire was the master of Nico's expressions now—giving away nothing—the faintest of shadows flickered over his eyes. "Molly—"

"You don't call me kitten anymore."

"Is that a question?"

"Be careful out there," I said, "please."

"Do you ever read poetry?" he asked.

"I like this game," I said. "Let's play it again soon."

" _Oh, boy, boy, for whom I prayed and prayed, In many a watchful hour at night... . wherever you are, Work for your soul's sake, That all the clay of you, all the dross of you, May yield to the fire of you, Till the fire is nothing but light_."

His gaze was full on me, the whole time.

"You know I'm already in love with you, right?" I said.

His expression was far too grave. "Promise me nothing is going to happen to you."

"I thought this lying thing was bullshit."

"Let's try it anyway."

I leaned in, my forehead brushing his. "Because I'm alive today, tomorrow I might not be."

He didn't blink. "You're not a very good liar."

"I don't want to lie to you." My fingers touched his neck. The skin was cool, pulse-less. "Can you feel it?"

He slid the laptop away from me and set it on the floor. "What?"

"Just the last time," I said. "Like I can feel the world spinning, and how small and insignificant it is, how fragile. It's just like how I felt the last time, right before—"

He kissed my neck and I closed my eyes, grasping his shirt, tugging it up over his head. He caught my hips and towed me down the couch and onto my back.

"We have work to do," I said, as he kissed my forearm, grazing my skin with his teeth, gently, never biting. "We need to—"

His weight pressed down on me, his nose touching mine. "I've missed you," he said, "more than breathing, more than the sunlight, more than living."

I blinked back another barrage of tears. "Is that more poetry? Didn't I say I was already in love with you?"

"It was the truth."

My chest hitched and I shut my eyes to keep from falling apart completely as if my eyelids were up to such a Herculean feat.

"I didn't want to upset you," he said.

"I'm not upset."

"Terrible. Liar."

"I'm pretending I can hold it together, okay?" I said.

He kissed my neck—the scars there.

"Okay."
25. To Your Mad World

Nico

**T** he scent was faint.

I pulled off onto a gravel lot by the river. Far off, thunder grumbled. The air cooled as the wind picked up. Though the sky was dark, I could see the clouds, piling up in the sky. Like that poem,

_Black mountain, black mountain, blocks the earth's light_.

Taking the machete, I slid out of the Charger.

The river was broad, flat, rushing past quick and quiet. The boat ramp was nearly submerged. A single orange light illuminated the turnoff behind me.

I crouched close to the ground, picking through the lingering aromas of human activity—sweat, gasoline, anxiety, lust, hunger. I brushed aside the animal scents too—musky and damp.

I pulled in the air, letting it chase away the aftertaste of Molly.

I'd already checked the main arteries into town, prowled around the hotels, the bus depot, driven out to the airport. No hint of any encroaching vampires.

Josh had driven a couple of hours north, where he knew a guy who knew a guy. Moments before, he'd texted me that he was headed back with a flamey new toy. Except I knew better.

Josh had a yen for weapons, but he wasn't someone who carried just because he felt he had a right to exercise. Most of the time, he left his guns locked up. Knives on the other hand... the guy was a walking switchblade. I felt sorry for any hapless gun-toter who might've attempted to take aim at him unless they'd been a trained marksman, Josh would've had a knife planted in their forehead before they could've pulled the trigger. He did not have weapons to play. He had weapons because he was scared shitless of vampires, and as well as he had that fear under control, it was still there, driving his every move.

And he was right to be scared.

I frowned, scanning the ground.

Plenty of tire marks were visible in the damp gravel, but I wasn't some freaking tracker or vehicle expert, they just looked like random patterns to me.

But there was something... faint in the air.

A sharp, dangerous scent...

I straightened up, my grip tightening on the machete's handle.

The wind shifted, sweeping down across the river. The scent slammed full-force into me.

I shifted back. "Fuck."

They burst forth all at once, half a dozen vampires launching out of the water, all fangs and bleached-out eyes and reek of bloodlust.

In the worst moment of indecision of my undead existence, I set myself to attack, and then thinking better of it, started to turn to my car.

Too late.

One of them leapt and caught my ankle, taking my feet out from under me and slamming me to the ground.

_Time—time—time, to give back to God his ticket._

They descended on me in a flurry of tearing and growling, kicking, punching, and biting.

I managed to swing around and catch one of their throats with the machete. The tang of blood in the air invigorated them. The machete was ripped away from me. More fangs sank into me, up and down, my legs, my back, my shoulders. They pinned me with their knees and hands, but it wasn't really necessary. Soon my limbs were unresponsive. Pain rang through me in a way I hadn't experienced since I'd turned—dry and rasping, hollow and suffocating. The blood was sucked from my veins. My vision ebbed.

"That's enough," a familiar voice growled, Lionel.

Someone flipped me over.

Lionel bared his blood-stained fangs at me. _My_ blood—or, at least, blood I had taken. It dripped down their faces, intertwining with droplets of river water.

"We leave the rest for Mary," Lionel said. "Call the others."

One of them, a woman, reached into her pocket, taking out a waterproof case and retrieving the phone inside.

"We have him," she said after dialing.

Lionel's knee crunched down on my chest, but I barely felt it. Wet, his blond hair clung to his skull and framed his face, like jagged black teeth closing around his head.

He grasped my jaw with his cold, thick fingers and smiled. "I was just going to kill you, but Mary, she has a plan. She'll fill you up again. That's your pain, your punishment. She'll fill you up and then bleed you dry. Again and again. Just like you did to all the others." He licked the sheen of blood from his lip. "She'll bring them to you. And if you resist, if you make her pour their blood down your gullet, they'll get younger and younger. She thinks you'll refuse just the same. She thinks you're..." he eyed me, "different."

Pain splintered up through me, from deep in my bones, as if my marrow were already turning to dust.

He leaned in, crushing me. "But I say you're nothing but a coward, plain and simple."

Echoing through my desiccated mind, thoughts of Molly, memories of my sister, alive, my parents... broken lines of poems half-learned, half-remembered. They scraped out of my parched throat all on their own.

" _I refuse to—be. In the madhouse of the in humans..._ "

" _I refuse to swim_ ," Lionel said, picking up the words as if he'd written them, " _on the current of human spines. To your mad world—one answer: I refuse._ " He released my face and gave my cheek an almost gentle pat. "Shit, you're still just a kid." He shook his head. "How long have you been turned, a year? Two? Hell, you probably haven't even fixed up a whole house yet." His eyes narrowed at me. "That would explain the hair. Kids use hacksaws instead of a barber these days?"

Headlights swept across us. Brakes squealed.

A door slid open—a van, I guessed. I couldn't turn my head to look.

"About damned time," Lionel said.

"How was the swim?" a woman asked, mirth in her voice.

"Refreshing as a spit bath," Lionel said.

A metallic clink was joined by another grumble of thunder.

A woman with long braids appeared above me, holding a heavy length of chain. "Think this will hold him?"

"Shit, he's as downy as a baby chick and more than half dry as it is," Lionel said. "My great-granny could hold him down."

"Your great-granny must be nothing but dust and bones now," the woman said.

"Just my point, sweetheart," he said. "Just my point." He stood, leaving me flat on the ground. And he was right. I couldn't even lift a finger, let alone get up to run or fight.

"Call me sweetheart again and I'll leave you less than dust and bones," the woman growled.

"You know I like it when you get all hot under the collar."

"You're such a creep."

"And a cold-blooded killer to boot," Lionel said with a smile, which quickly vanished. "Wrap him up," he ordered, his eyes flooding with color again. They were blue as a summer sky. "Miss Mary doesn't like it when they wriggle."
26. What Sharp Teeth

Gia

**T** hunder boomed and rolled.

My eyes flew open. "Shit."

I hadn't meant to fall asleep. I tugged the burner from my pocket and checked the time. Almost 5. I glanced out the window. A flash of lightning. Rain thrummed against the glass.

On the floor, the laptop was open, displaying the security camera feed. Empty streets. Quiet neighborhood. No alarms. No gangs of vampires.

Still, I didn't want Josh to get back and find me lying down on duty.

Groaning, I rolled over. Molly was passed out next to me. All pretty and serene. She was like a freaking painting—smooth, luminescent skin and inviting, feminine curves. I wondered if that's what Josh was holding out for. Someone more like Molly. Someone less... harsh.

I rolled the other way and I buried my face in Josh's pillow. I was pretty sure he hadn't washed his sheets, ever. And I couldn't have been more grateful. After two years on the run with Molly and another two in prison, I could've drowned in boy stink and died happy.

I didn't know why I was wasting my time with Josh. I'd never been one to obsess or mope or get all dumb about a guy. Nothing but pain that way. Nico and Molly were perfect proof of that.

Though they begged to stay shut, I forced my eyes open again. And then, though my body ached, I sat up.

I frowned, knuckling the gunk from my eyes and scanning Josh's room. Where was he? And Nico?

Another flicker-flash of lightning and a jarring boom of thunder, and then the huffing wheeze of the window air conditioner losing power. The laptop screen dimmed, switching to battery.

Molly sat up abruptly, making me flinch.

"What is it?" she said, panic tight in her voice.

"Electricity cut out," I said. "Don't worry about it. The cameras are still working. Go back to sleep."

She blinked a few times and then nodded, lying down again slowly.

The rain intensified, lashing against the windows, rhythmic, relentless, like the storm was the Big Bad Wolf, trying to blow the house down.

I picked up the rifle from where I'd left it on the floor and laid it across my lap. I fished a stick of gum from my pocket and stuck it in my mouth. I sat at the end of the bed, one eye on the video feed, the other on the door.

This wasn't how I'd envisioned my life.

Once upon a time, I'd imagined myself going to college, just like Molly was about to do. My grades hadn't been stellar, but they'd been alright. I'd figured I'd go to school, party some, study a little, screw up a lot, and then sort my shit out. I'd never been a big dreamer. I'd never had delusions of being a freaking pop star or supermodel or anything. But, if I was going to be honest with myself, jail had probably been in my future even without the vampires.

Before I'd met Samuel, I'd been using a lot—weed, coke, pills... whatever I could get. Samuel had pulled me out. Somehow, he'd made life seem less like a steaming pile of bullshit. And he'd made me feel less precarious, when I'd felt always on the verge of shattering. No matter what I'd told him, how bizarre or crazy I felt, he seemed to understand and make it okay. He'd been a drug all on his own.

But now it was obvious. He'd been using vamp powers on me the entire time. Just making me feel what I wanted to feel so he could get close to my sister. And kill her.

I glanced back at Molly. She was breathing, deep and steady. Asleep again.

Samuel had been a drug. He'd gotten me hooked, screwed me over, taken away my entire life, and left me half-dead on the floor—rock bottom.

I was sure he would've found a way into our lives without me. But it still pissed me off that I'd been the one who was duped. That I'd been the one who'd heard the wolf knocking and opened the door.

I didn't blame myself for my mom's death or my stepdad's, I blamed Samuel. But I had to be grateful, in a twisted way, because he'd made me see what was really important. He'd given me a purpose.

Protect what was left of my family.

The real question was what to do about Nico. Molly was going to get him to drink her blood, and I understood why she wanted it, but the thought alone filled me with a visceral urge to cut his head off—both of them.

Then again, I really wanted my sister to have it—to use her cursed blood to get her boy back and defy all the shitty odds.

Pushing off the bed, I crept toward the door, wincing when one especially loose floorboard groaned. Molly didn't stir.

Edging out of the bedroom, I made a quick trip to the bathroom and then snagged the last slice of cold pizza out of the box that had been left on the couch.

I paced the room, keeping an eye out the windows for Nico or Josh, but in the silent house, my every step seemed to echo or cause the floor to creak.

Locking the door behind me, I headed to the first-floor apartment to wait for the guys.

At the bottom of the stairs, I peeked through the back door's glass panel. A curtain of rain poured off the porch, puddling on the cracked sidewalk. In spite of the storm, the sky was growing lighter. Somewhere behind all the clouds, the sun would be rising soon.

I grasped the knob—locked.

I headed to the ground-floor apartment. Not bothering to use my phone to light the way, I stumbled along the dark hallway. The hall was short anyway. I swung around through the living room into the open kitchen where Josh kept his energy drinks.

Slinging the rifle's strap over my shoulder, I snagged one of the bottles and opened it, chugging it down.

The ginger-lemon flavor reminded me of him and I imagined it's what he would taste like if he would've kissed me, or let me kiss him.

I rolled my eyes as I rinsed the empty bottle out in the sink. Clearly, prison had ruined me. Josh had been right. There were plenty of guys in this town. I didn't doubt I could've had my way with any number of them. But I didn't want to have my way with them. I wanted to have my way with him. I didn't understand why he was so resistant or why I couldn't just blow him off and find someone else.

Sure, he looked better than I remembered. He'd grown up in the last two years. He was less a teenager and more a man, but it wasn't that he'd finally reached the age that he actually needed to shave. I hadn't just been happy to see him again, I'd been relieved like I'd been carrying something back-breakingly heavy around that I could finally put down.

"You better watch yourself," I muttered, turning the bottle upside down in the sink so it could drain. "You're going to get as soft and gooey as Molly."

I took a deep breath. A cloying, sweet scent filled my lungs and made my eyes flutter as if the sandman's cologne had drifted through the room.

The edges of my thoughts turned fuzzy.

For a second, I thought I was about to pass out, but then...

A smooth, cool finger, slightly damp with the rain, ran up my throat and under my chin, turning my head around.

A pair of golden eyes smiled at me.

"My, aren't you a pretty thing?" the vampire drawled.

My heart ached, wanting to pound, but unable to speed up. My hand moved slowly, as if dragging through mud, toward the gun.

"We have no need for violence of that sort now, do we?" The vampire plucked the strap from my shoulder and set the gun aside on the counter.

The vampire toyed with the ends of my hair.

I couldn't move. I wanted to, so badly. A voice in my head was screaming for me to run, to fight, to shout and warn Molly. All I could eke out was,

"The alarms."

The smile in her eyes spread to her lips. Her face was mesmerizing, beautiful, but in the way of another time, like one of those ancient busts of a queen from a long lost civilization. Though she was shorter than me, she towered. All around me, that scent, sweet like marzipan, spiced like anise and nutmeg and cold-burning, like coke in the back of my throat. All the time, mollifying.

"Alarms," she repeated as if I'd made a joke. Her fingers threaded through mine and I couldn't resist. I couldn't even move.

Tears sliced through my eyes, spilling down my cheeks.

She thumbed the tears away. "No need for that, beauty. We're going to be friends. Very, very good friends."

She kissed my forehead, gently. A shuddering breath escaped my chest.

When she drew back, all the golden light had left her eyes and there was nothing in those black rings but flecks of gray upon white, like flakes of ash in the snow, and two empty black circles, bottomless pits.

"My name is Mary," she said.

And then I fell into those empty black pits, down and down.
27. Splintered

Josh

**I** pushed the hood of my coat back. Rain ran down the back of my neck.

Closing the door behind me, I listened.

The house was quiet. I frowned, flipping the light switch on for the back foyer. But the bare bulb overhead remained dark.

"Fuck," I muttered. The alarms weren't backed up on battery. I'd meant to get around to it but hadn't. At least the cameras would still be on. I grasped the doorknob to the upstairs apartment.

Locked.

Good.

I dug out my key and opened the door, trudging up the steps. At the top of the steps another door, also locked.

I unlocked it and went inside. The power hadn't been out too long, the room was cool, but sticky with moisture.

I peeled off my coat and tossed it over the back of the couch. "Red?"

Floorboards shifted and protested, the bedroom door opened. Molly appeared, hair tangled and eyes half open.

"Where's your sister?"

She frowned. "She's not here?"

I flipped open one of the pizza boxes. Empty. I searched around for the other. It was on the couch. I leaned over the back of the couch and gave it a shake.

Also empty.

"Damn." I tossed the box aside. "She's probably downstairs," I said, leading the way, Molly close behind.

"Where's Nico?" she asked.

"Probably sitting under a tree somewhere, writing you a love poem," I grumbled.

"In the rain?" she shot back.

"He's a vampire, not a witch." I dug my keys out again to unlock the ground floor's door. "He's not going to melt."

"You're in a good mood, huh?"

"I just drove to the middle of nowhere and spent an entire night trying to convince a couple of twitchy, red-eyed survivalist types that I was worthy of paying them thousands of dollars, cash, for a not-entirely legal, military-issue incendiary device. The Chinese thing"—I gestured to my eyes—"didn't help."

She frowned at me. "You're Chinese?"

"My grandfather was born in China, but he was brought to New York when he was four, married a Jewish girl, and moved to California."

I pushed open the door and gestured her through.

She slid past me. "You're Jewish?"

"My father was military. Special Ops," I said, as we walked through the hallway. "He used to say, if you're asking a person for their family tree, you're an idiot. You ought to be asking what the fuck they want and where they think they're going. But my father is also in prison for beating the shit out of my mom and nearly killing her, so... I take everything he said with a grain of—"

We entered the living room and I caught Molly's arm, hauling her back.

"Ow," she said, and then, "What?"

I pulled one of the knives from my belt. "Shut up."

We stood there for a full minute. But other than the rain crashing in on all sides, I didn't hear a thing.

I gave Molly a little push back, so she was out of the hall and her shoulder was to the wall, the window to her back and the front door to her left. I peeked back into the hall. No movement. No sound. Then around the corner into the kitchen.

Nothing.

My heart sank as I grabbed the rifle off the counter.

When Molly saw it, she forgot to shut up.

"Gia?" She pushed by me and I didn't try to stop her.

I pulled the magazine. Not a single bullet fired.

Molly ripped open every door in the hall, the bedroom, the closet, the bathroom.

Then she raced back upstairs, calling, "Gia!"

I strode to the front door and grasped the knob, it turned easily and the door opened, letting in a lash of rain. I slammed the door shut again and stormed upstairs. Molly was sitting on the bed with the computer in her lap. Her hands were clasped over her mouth, tears running down her face.

I laid the rifle on the bed and took the computer from her, just in time to see a petite, dark-haired vampire remove her fangs from Gia's neck and then dip her knees to catch Gia over her shoulder. She lifted Gia easily over her shoulder and then strolled gracefully out of the house.

Next to me, Molly was sobbing.

"She might not be dead," I said, though I hated how mechanical my voice sounded, my body and my head and my heart had all splintered away from each other, floating off in different directions.

"That vampire just drained my sister!"

"Mary," I said. "It was Mary."

"The vampire who's after Nico?"

I nodded. "She must have followed Nico's scent here."

"Why didn't she come upstairs?" Molly asked, raking her hand back into her hair. "Why didn't she come after me?"

"She's sending a message."

"A message about what?"

"She took Gia with her," I said. "She could've left the body, but she didn't. She might want to use her, like bait, to draw Nico to her. That would only work if Gia is still alive."

Molly grabbed my arm. My teeth snapped together, my entire body coiled and tense.

"Don't bullshit me," she said.

"I'm not," I said, more harshly than I intended.

I dug out my phone and held it out to her. "Call him."

She took my phone, frowning at me as I stood and walked into the living room. I released the catch on the window and pushed up the sash. Thrusting my head out the window, rain whipped across my face.

My fingers dug into the wood, splintering the rotted edge.

I hung my head and let the rain drench me, the wind steal my breath, the chill cool my building rage—just enough for me to keep my head straight.

Sometime later, when my eyes were achy and my lips had stopped trembling, I ducked back inside.

Molly was standing there. Phone in hand. Watching me with those freaky dark eyes, all haunted and deep.

She held the phone out between us, her voice soft and tremulous. "He's not answering."

I seized the phone from her and dialed Nico's number again.

Nothing.

My fingers clenched around the phone. My chest began to hitch.

Deep. Fucking. Breath.

I wiped the water off my face, flinging it away. And then I snagged one of my knives again and whipped it across the room. It rammed into the plaster.

At that same moment, the electricity switched back on.

The alarms sounded.

I tapped the app on my phone and silenced them.

The air conditioner rumbled to life. Frigid air blasted over me.

For a moment, Molly and I just stood there. Me, shivering and dripping. Her, trembling and hugging herself.

"Do you have _her_ number?" Molly asked finally.

Slowly, I nodded.

She held out her hand again and I gave her the phone with Ennis's number on the screen.

She hit _Call_ and put it on speaker, cradling the phone in both of her hands in front of her like she didn't trust herself to be able to hold onto it with only one.

"Yes?" a smooth, slightly husky voice asked.

Molly licked her lips. "Ennis?"

A long pause. "Molly?"

"Mary is here."

"Where is Nico?"

"I don't know."

"You saw Mary?"

"She was in the house. The cameras... She took Gia."

"Took her?"

"Bit her," Molly said, "and then took her. Does that mean she's still alive?"

Another long pause. "I don't know what that means," Ennis said. "We're on our way."

"When will you be here?"

But Ennis had already hung up.

Molly looked up at me. "What do we do?"

I strode across the room and ripped my knife free. "Nothing. There's nothing we can do."

Her lips parted, her brow furrowed. "But—"

I stalked across the room toward the stairs.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I have to destroy something," I growled, not stopping.

"But you said she might be alive," Molly called after me as I descended the stairs.

Sometimes we tell lies not because we want other people to believe them, but because we want to.
28. Human Spines

Nico

**T** hey tossed me into an old recliner. I was bound in chains from shoulder to ankle.

They brought in an old woman. Her skin wrinkled by a lifetime of smiles.

She screamed. They let her.

They asked me once. When I didn't respond, they slit her throat and pried apart my mouth and then pushed her onto me so her blood poured down my face and my throat, in my eyes.

All red.

My thirst vanished. Strength flooded my limbs. Pencil-thin man strained against the chains. The padlock securing them groaned.

And then they pushed her aside and sank their teeth into me. My arms and legs and throat.

I didn't want to.

But I screamed.

The fire was torn from me. A demon-infested whirlwind inferno ripped straight from my bones and veins, tearing and searing, cursing and howling, shredding me, deep down, all through, to my very soul.

They left just enough to keep me from turning to dust.

Then an older man. In a suit. He begged. He tried to bargain. Money and credit cards scattered across the floor, sticking in the tacky slick of blood.

I was so very thirsty and in pain.

So much pain.

They beat him to the edge of unconsciousness and then dragged him to me, pressing his neck to my face.

They asked me once.

But I refused.

And so they cut his throat. Blood sprayed over me.

Again, my thirst was slaked. In those few seconds of vigor, I struggled against the chains. Metal whined softly, muffled, because the lock was behind me, pressing into my back.

Then they fell upon me again.

Somehow, the pain was worse than before.

So. Much. Worse.

Another woman, younger still. She was silent, stoic, resigned. Her eyes were brown, dark, like Molly's. She gazed at me as if to ask, _Are you going to stop this_?

I wished I could.

They asked me again.

And again, I refused.

Slight as she was, her body crushed me. More blood.

Pencil-thin Man swelled against the restraints. Metal screamed, twisting, weakening. But the others were in a frenzy, laughing and shouting, high on blood and pain. If they heard, maybe they didn't know what it meant. More likely, they didn't hear.

Then the pain.

Round and round we went.

Question.

Refusal.

Blood.

Strength.

Weakening.

Pain.

All the while the victims grew younger and younger, as promised.

When the teenager toppled upon me, a kid maybe fifteen, sixteen, they paused.

Lionel leaned close, stroking my blood-soaked face with his thumbs.

"Take the next one and we'll stop. We'll set the rest free."

I was flush again, but even full, I was weak. The memories of the pain had built up, like layers of ash, smothering me. In spite of Lionel's claims, I knew he was lying. And there was more pain. No matter what I did, they wouldn't stop. They had no intention of stopping. And no intention of letting anyone free.

I was a vampire.

I could smell a lie. It soured the blood on his breath like cheap liquor.

He wasn't even trying to hide it.

We both knew that if I started feeding, if I joined in this frenzy, then I wouldn't be able to refuse when they brought in the younger ones. And they would. He said they wouldn't. But they were liars.

They were vampires.

Pencil-thin Man, he didn't really care about who died. Except Lionel and his friends. He wanted them dead. All of them.

"Bite me," Pencil-thin Man growled at Lionel and then we laughed, both of us.

"Will do, son," Lionel said. "Will do."

And he did.

They all did.

And then they brought in the next.

My soul, it retreated to the darkest corner of its prison and closed its eyes and covered its ears, whispering over and over again,

_I refuse. I refuse._

Outside, Pencil-thin Man waited.

Vampires are liars.

Vampires are monsters.

And vampires are very, very patient.
29. Light Them Up

Molly

**M** y hands twisted around the steering wheel.

"Are you sure that thing is safe?"

Josh perched in the back of the SUV, safety goggles over his eyes, hands gloved. The windows were open and the fan on high to disperse the overpowering fumes wafting off of the... _thing_ strapped to his back.

"No," he stated in that same cold, hard voice he'd been using since demolishing the entire ground floor apartment. Every wall, door, and window had been smashed, bashed, and shattered. "It's not safe, Molly," he said. "That's why it's good. Fire bad. Fire make vampires burn."

I bit my lip to keep from making any sharp remarks. I knew Josh was walking a thin line. I didn't need to read his mind. The air around him fissured.

Through the front window, I watched the sun, a ruby-red orb, slip behind the black silhouettes of the trees.

I rubbed my eyes. They hurt, so much. I was so tired. I'd tried to sleep while we'd waited to hear back from Ennis, but mostly I just laid on Josh's bed, staring up at the ceiling, watching it rattle—sometimes from thunder, sometimes from Josh kicking down a door.

Early in the afternoon, Ennis had called, but by then, most of the storms had passed and the sun was glaring down on the world again, vaporizing the puddles into an oppressive haze that stuck in my throat and over my skin, like glue.

We'd had to wait until nightfall.

Slowly, the sun sank out of view, light clawing like fingers through the shadows, attempting to hold on—failing.

In the back of my head, there was a running prayer. It was simple.

_Please. Please. Please_.

_Please let Gia be alive._

_Please let Nico be okay._

_Please don't let anyone else die_.

A sleek black Audi rolled into the parking lot. Besides our SUV, there were no other cars. The adjacent softball fields were vacant. Even the sluggish breeze that had been rattling the chain-link backstops every so often ceased.

The Audi pulled up perpendicularly, leaving a row of parking spaces between us. Through my open side window, a pair of green eyes gazed at me, but they weren't Nico's.

"Remember," I said to Josh, as he pushed his door open, "we need them. We need their help to find Gia."

"I remember," Josh growled and stepped out, leaving his door open.

Rafe and Ennis exited their car too.

I stayed behind the wheel, the engine running, but I could see them clearly. Ennis watched Josh and Rafe... his eyes were on me like I was the one with a flamethrower.

"Together again, huh?" Josh said, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice.

"Is that all you've brought?" Ennis asked.

In my side mirror, I saw Josh shrug. "I also have a bomb strapped to my thigh."

My stomach churned. Because I knew he was telling the truth.

Ennis didn't blink. "Good."

"You looking to get dismembered, sis?" Josh asked.

"No," she said. "But they're coming."

"Who?"

"Mary and the others," Ennis said. "They have Nico."

"How do you know?"

"I can smell his suffering," Ennis said, finally her gaze flicked to me. "They've been... hurting him."

I pursed my lips.

Her gaze slid back to Josh. "You put these ideas in his head, about Cain."

"Ah... you want to find someone to blame? Why don't we start with him?" The barrel of the flamethrower took aim at Rafe. "This all started with him, didn't it?"

But Rafe kept on gazing at me, studious.

I shifted in my seat, my legs sticking to the leather, sweaty.

"Well?" I asked him. "You know now, don't you? Why my soul is in color? What it can do?"

He inclined his head slightly. Smart. Josh was wound so tight if Rafe had said even a single word, Josh probably would've incinerated him.

"And?" I asked.

Ennis's head tilted, a spill of glossy red hair tumbling over her shoulder. "Are you asking if he wants to be mortal?"

"Do you?" I asked him.

Before he could answer, an old white van and a long silver Cadillac rolled into the parking lot.

"Fuck..." Josh breathed.

"You'll forgive me," Rafe said to Josh, backing up and reaching into the car. From inside, he produced two swords. One much longer than the other.

The van and Caddy circled around, so they were in front of me. Though they kept a wide swath of concrete between us. When Josh had given me a gun, I lofted an eyebrow. He'd given me a gun the last time, and a lot of good that had done. Except this time, I wouldn't attack anybody with my mind and leave myself vulnerable. My hand inched over to the passenger seat and picked up the Glock. I was so sick of guns, of vampires, of blood and death. But there seemed to be no end. So here I was, again.

Josh slammed the back door shut and then gripped mine. "If I die, run."

He stalked forward and stood in front of the car. Rafe circled the back of the Audi and lined up with him, Ennis was between them, apparently weaponless.

Across the parking lot, dark with the remnants of puddles sunbaked into little more than splotches and stains, the vehicles idled.

They switched off their headlights, their engines too.

My teeth scraped over my lip until it was raw. Sweat ran down my face and stung my eyes. For the first time in my life, I wished I were a vampire. I might've been able to help Nico and Gia. As it was, I would be lucky to get out of this alive. I knew that. And I'm sure Josh knew it too.

But he didn't seem afraid. He was planted in front of me, bulky green canisters slung on his back, gun poised. Almost as motionless as a vampire.

I fought the urge to grab him and drive as far and as fast as we could away from here.

It was terrible and I hated myself for it. I wanted Nico back. I wanted to believe that Gia was alive and that we could save her.

A panicked part of my brain was screaming at me though— _just save yourself!_

I laid the gun on my lap and placed my hand on the shifter.

The van door opened. A body was thrown out.

I lurched to the edge of my seat.

Wrapped in chains, Nico rolled across the pavement, chains and flesh clanking and thumping over the concrete.

He came to rest on his back in the midst of the parking lot. It looked as though he'd been dunked in blood. It stained his dark blond hair and smeared his face. His clothes were soaked in it.

I swiped away the tears. No more crying. I needed to be able to see. I needed to be able to think.

Nico wasn't dust. Which meant he wasn't gone. Which meant he could still be saved.

From the van poured forth an ungodly stream of vampires. They just kept coming.

It was like the worst freaking clown car ever.

They spread out and formed a semicircle. Twelve of them.

I had never seen so many vampires in one place. All fangs and pale eyes and silent minds.

I stretched out, ever so slightly, skimming over Josh's thoughts—all black and red, cold and hot, grief and rage—and searched.

Nothing.

I drew back into myself, my hands shaking and sweating.

It didn't mean Gia wasn't there. If she was unconscious it would've been harder for me to sense her. The unconscious mind didn't radiate out like a conscious one. That's why nighttime had always been my favorite time of day. When everyone else was asleep and I could relax my barriers.

But it might've been she wasn't here. And that would've been okay too. As long as she was alive. As long as she was...

The Caddy's door opened.

A shapely leg appeared, expensive pumps and a cream-hued pencil skirt.

Pain shot through my chest as she emerged. Mary. The woman who'd attacked my sister.

I forced in a deep breath and another. I wasn't going to black out or freak out. Gia needed me. Nico needed me.

She paused, surveying the scene from by the car door, and then she turned back and seemed to give something a tug. A leash?

In a vampire flash, Mary stepped aside as something burst out of the back of the car in a flurry of snarls and limbs and wild snapping.

Mary gave the thing's chain a sharp yank and the creature fell back, pulled by the thick leather collar around her throat.

I stopped breathing then. The tears I'd been holding back, they came.

Gia sprawled at Mary's feet, flashed her fangs and lunged at Mary.

Mary kicked her with a well-aimed square-tipped toe and Gia—my sister, the vampire—twisted away, whimpering like a dog.

This is where I fall apart and lie down and die.

Except a violent black wave of emotion crashed into me.

From Josh. He lifted his gun.

He was going to burn them all.

"No." I slammed on the horn and then fumbled out of the car. "No!"

Sweat ran down his face in rivers. His eyes were fixed straight ahead—blank and hard.

"Get in the car, Molly. Run. Away. Now."

I gripped his elbow. "No, Josh. Look at me."

"No."

"Look at my soul, you asshole," I hissed. "Remember?"

He blinked, slowly, but didn't lower the gun.

"Well..." Mary strolled toward us, towing my sister behind her. Gia, half crawled, half stumbled. Her face was strangely contorted as if both in pain and in the throes of some fury. But her eyes, which should've been electric, shining, amazing turquoise, were as pale as diamonds and they were fixed on me, with nothing but wild, predatory hunger.

That's when I realized that all of the vampires were staring at me.

Mary stopped in the middle of the parking lot, halfway between the others and us. Gia huddled behind her, Nico limp on the ground to her other side. Mary's eyes were gold, rich and swirling. They moved from me to Ennis to Rafe and back to Josh.

"The demon hunter, the saintly sister, the angelic lover, and..." the gold vortices fell upon me again, "the Holy Grail."

Josh's thoughts pounded into my head.

_Get back in the car. Get back in the car_.

When I edged away from him, every vampire flinched. Only Mary's halting gesture kept them at bay.

"Don't be so quick," Mary said to them. "I know how entrancing she appears, but it's a ruse. If you drink from her, she will steal everything from you. Your strength, your power, your immortality. Her soul is a siren's song. Give in to the temptation and be lost."

The vampires recoiled. Nico lay on the ground, unmoving.

"Is that true?" a beefy blond man asked from behind her.

"Go ahead and test it," Mary said. "How long have you been a vampire, Lionel?"

"Nearly one hundred and fifty years, ma'am."

Mary smiled at me. "A meager span for a vampire. But much too long for a mortal. Drink from this girl, with her enticing soul, and you will be mortal for a few horrifying seconds before you are rendered the dust which you rightfully should be."

"But she can return mortality," Ennis said. "I've seen it."

"Yes," Mary said, "to a vampire who has not yet lived out a natural human life. But once you are aged beyond your years, to drink from one such as her, gives you back nothing but death."

"You've seen it before?" Ennis asked.

"Once," Mary said. "And such glee he had, that soul of sapphires and emeralds and rubies. He traveled the desert, in a fine caravan, with many servants and wives, and he would invite the demons into his tent and offer himself to them for a price, and then he would laugh as they breathed again, as their hearts beat again, only for the wind to come and sweep them away into the ages. He would recover and then do it again. And the villages would offer him tribute and treated him as a god."

"And for those who were still young? What happened to them?"

Mary's smile was indulgent. "You mean like yourself, sweet Ennis? Or these two?" She cocked her head toward Nico, insensate on the ground, and gave Gia's chain another jerk. Gia, who was on her knees, staring at me with hungry white eyes, snarled.

Pain rippled along the fractures in my heart, but I wasn't going to give up hope. Nico and Gia could both be saved. _I_ could save them.

"I'm afraid that neither your brother nor my new pet will have such an opportunity," Mary said. "I regret this circumstance, truly. In all my years, I have never met a vampire who could purify the soul's light as you do, Madame Barrister. I tried to help you—"

"You knew Nico was Cain?" Ennis asked. "That he was my brother?"

"Family is tricky, yes? When we see our loved ones falling, do we catch them, or do we stand back and hope that they survive to learn from the error of their ways? How many times do we allow ourselves to be injured by the crushing weight of their folly before we simply have no choice but to turn away? Adi and I had not seen eye to eye for some time, but... she was one of mine. And your brother took her." Mary's smiled softly as if she actually felt remorse. "I would very much like to resume our friendly association."

"What do you want?" Ennis asked.

"Why... justice, of course."

"You want to make a deal," Ennis said.

"I want an eye for an eye," Mary said. "Call me old-fashioned that way, but it's how I was raised. Your brother took my Adi. If you wish for this matter to be settled between us, you will cut off his head, as he did to her."

Ennis remained cool and unruffled. "I see." She stepped back, hands interlaced as if giving the offer consideration.

Beside her, Rafe was motionless. I'd almost forgotten he was there, with his swords poised at his sides.

I hovered next to Josh, the fumes from his tanks burning my throat, but I didn't try to shift away, afraid any movement might draw the vampires' attention back to me. They were all watching Ennis, or seemed to be. Even though they'd seemed to believe Mary's assertion that I was a temptation to avoid, that didn't mean they wouldn't just kill me.

More than anything I wanted Nico and my sister freed.

But I couldn't see any way to make it happen.

I wasn't in Josh's head, but his thoughts were shouting at me.

_My thigh. My thigh_.

I frowned at him. Then looked down.

He had a sheath strapped to his leg. In it, a knife.

"And what about these two?" Ennis asked, gesturing to us.

I froze as the spotlight swung back in our direction.

"The hunter?" Mary asked, lip curling.

"I don't care about him," Ennis said, "but what about the girl?"

"The girl is a trap," Mary said. "You have no idea the damage she could do to our kind."

Ennis remained impassive. "So you intend to kill her?"

"That desert charlatan I spoke of, he had many children, and some of them also inherited the poison he carried in his blood, in his soul. It was a great mercy to our kind," Mary said, "when I slaughtered them."

"Then you will show her mercy?" Ennis asked.

"I will break her neck and leave her in the ditch," Mary stated.

Ennis took a decisive step backward. Every eye swiveled to her. She smiled.

At that same moment, Gia sprung... and tore into Mary's throat.

Mary roared as blood splattered.

One of the vampires must've moved, but didn't make it far, because Ennis had pulled a handgun from somewhere and fired, hitting him square between the eyes. He fell flat to the pavement.

"Josh," Ennis barked. "Light them up."
30. Don't Forget the First Rule

Molly

**C** haos. Gunshots rang out all around.

Some of the vampires rushed to take down Rafe and Ennis. A few of them broke toward Mary and Gia. Huge chunks of Mary's flesh were gone, her scalp, her cheek, her throat, her shoulder. She clawed and bucked, but Gia clung to her, ripping away skin and sinew with her teeth.

As Josh stepped forward, I ripped the knife from the holster on his leg.

The blond vampire slammed into us, pushing us both back against the hood of the car, and his throat right into the knife in my hand.

Color burst back into the vampire's eyes. His blood poured down my chest.

Josh shoved the stunned vamp away.

He stumbled, groping at the knife lodged in his neck.

"Take cover," Josh said to me.

And then there was a shift in the air, a whomp of gas igniting, the swell of heat.

The vampire's blue eyes widened and then were engulfed in flame.

I scrambled along the car, behind the open driver's side door. My eyes watered from the fumes and heat. Vampires battled in blurs, moving too fast for me to see clearly. When one fell away from the others, Josh ignited her.

I'd never heard anyone scream the way she did.

And I froze, my ears ringing with the agonized sound.

Then a hand fell on my shoulder.

I screamed and threw my elbow as I twisted away, knocking Nico on his back.

I stared. "Oh god, sorry." I reached for him, pulling him back up onto his knees. He moved slowly. He was covered in blood. His face was gaunt, his eyes, sunken. I threw my arms around his neck. "Are you okay? Are you going to be okay?" I asked, crying again. But I didn't care.

He drew back from me, cupping my face in his hands, which were dry as sandpaper.

"Get back in the car and drive."

I gripped his wrist. "I'm not leaving Josh or Gia or you."

He sagged, eyes closing for a moment, and it looked like he might fall over or turn to dust.

I touched his blood-splattered cheek. "What happened to you?"

There was a shout and the car bounced.

I tensed and almost stood. "Josh—"

Nico gripped my arm. "Stay here."

A second later, he was gone.

Ash drifted over me, fine and gray.

I started to reach for the gun that I'd left on the seat, but another hand closed around my wrist, stopping me.

For some reason, I didn't tense or fight.

Slowly, I turned and met a pair of vivid green eyes.

Ennis.

Her shirt was torn, soot and blood smeared her skin.

"Mary is gone," she said to me. "Some of the others are burning. It will all be over soon."

"My sister?"

Ennis smiled. "Mary didn't understand. She had no idea what it means to love someone more than yourself. To be willing to sacrifice. Your sister understood. I knew she would. She saved us all."

"You knew Gia would attack Mary?"

"It's what I would've done," Ennis said, "if someone threatened to kill Nico."

"He's out there. He's weak."

"I know. He's saved your friend though. He'll return to you," she said, her hand released my wrist, "soon."

"What should I do?" Ash coated my tongue. My lips trembled.

She ran her hand over my hair. "Tell him I always loved him."

Before I could think to scream, her eyes whitened. She wrenched my head back and sank her fangs into my neck.

Never trust a vampire.
31. To Sleep, To Dream

Nico

**J** osh was unconscious. Good thing, probably. One of the bones in his forearm was sticking out of the skin.

I'd jumped his attacker from behind, siphoned off some of the blood she'd forced into and then sucked out of me earlier—just enough to get some strength back. And then I shoved her into a bush that had incidentally been lit ablaze.

I pulled a knife from Josh's boot. He always kept one there. And cut the tank's straps, freeing him from the flamethrower.

It was a testament to how weak I was that I had to drag him to the car and couldn't just carry him.

Out in the parking lot, Rafe was fending off the last two vampires. All the others were gone. Huge black scorches on the pavement marked where some had fallen to Josh's flamethrower.

I didn't see Gia. Vaguely, I worried that she'd been killed. Either by another vampire or by Rafe. I couldn't smell anything but gas and ash and blood.

Josh's heels scraped the concrete as I pulled him back along the driver's side of the SUV. The driver's door was still open. Molly wasn't in the seat. I was about to bark at her to get in and start the engine, but then I saw them.

Ennis.

My sister.

Feeding off Molly.

My knees buckled. Lucky for Josh. Otherwise, I might've dropped him and he would've had to add a skull fracture to his list of injuries.

The faintest whisper of disbelief managed to sneak in just before the blind rage took over.

I did the only thing I knew to do. The thing I had been doing for the last two years whenever I encountered a vampire attacking someone.

I sank my fangs into my sister's neck.

I drained her.

And I slipped into a dream.

Molly and I were sitting at the top of the vert ramp, legs dangling. On the horizon, a golden semi-circle, but I couldn't tell if the sun was rising or setting.

My shirt was off and Molly was drawing a spiral on my chest in black Sharpie, as she did, the ink turned red.

Only then did I notice that her arms, exposed because she wore a tank top, were bare.

"What happened to your art?" I asked.

She smiled. That smile that was mostly in her eyes—all mine. "Needed a fresh start. Blank slate. It takes a while. For all the ink to wash off."

She glanced down at her arms.

"I think they're about ready."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a red Sharpie, but when she took off the cap, the tip was blue—turquoise.

Tears clung to the edges of her eyes and they were blue and red, like sapphires and rubies. "This one is all dried up." She pushed the cap back on and tossed it away into the empty skate park. It clattered on the top of the box and then rolled down the ramp and kept rolling.

"Look, you're clean again." She placed her hand on my chest.

The spiral was gone.

She stood up. "I'm going to find some new colors."

She started toward the ladder.

I pushed up to follow her, but stopped and glanced back toward the sun. Ennis was there. Far off, right on the edge between where the light melted into the shadows. She waved.

I lifted my hand.

"Nico," Molly said, already on the ladder. "Rafe is coming."

My eyes flew open, waking.

I shoved my sister away, wiping the blood from my lip and dodged just as a sword came singing toward the back of my neck. Rolling over on my shoulder, I shoved up to my feet, but then, a dizzy wave rocked through me and I crashed onto my hands and knees.

Pain spread like thin cracks growing ever larger and deeper. I tried to stand again but staggered and stumbled against the car, my throat closing, which shouldn't have been a problem, except... I suddenly felt the very urgent desire to breathe.

Rafe stood over my sister, who was crumpled beside Molly, their hair swirling together, red and black, in spirals.

His eyes were white. His fangs clear. The gleam of his swords, muted by a thick coat of ash.

Ennis must have moved or spoken, I couldn't really tell because the cracks began to widen, pulling every infinitesimal speck of my being apart. Rafe turned away from me as I face-planted, choking and seizing, my head thumping the ground, blood filling my mouth, my eardrums screaming as they seemed to twist in on themselves and then explode. Pain erupted in boils that burst and splattered flesh-eating venom back upon me.

Even after everything I'd been through, the torture I'd endured only an hour earlier, this was worse.

Much.

For the first time since he had entered me, I heard Pencil-thin Man screaming.

Or was it me?

I couldn't say.

I blacked out.

And I dreamed.
32. Start Here

Molly

Three Months Later

**"H** ey, watch it! You almost killed me!" I kicked aside the fallen hunk of drywall.

Waving away a plume of dust, Nico pushed his goggles back up into his hair.

"I didn't know you were home."

I shrugged my backpack up onto my shoulder. "Do you have to tear down the ceiling while I'm standing under it?"

He leaned his forearms on the top of the ladder. "If I don't do something about this place, the tenants are going to start complaining."

" _Start?_ " I shot back at him, telepathically.

He grinned and slid his goggles back over his eyes. "I'm _so_ glad that sarcasm translates via ESP."

"I thought you were at work," I said up to him.

" _And I thought_ you _were in class_."

"You're right," I said tartly. "Telepathic sarcasm is really saving our relationship."

His grin spread, wide.

And when Nico smiled, I smiled too. It was like a reflex.

He yanked wires down from the hole he'd just created in the ceiling. We'd moved into the house he and Josh had occupied, back when Nico was still a vampire. Which he wasn't any longer.

"How was work?" I asked.

He paused as if really thinking about it. "A lot like this, actually."

Since Nico had returned to mortality, he'd managed to find himself a job in construction, of all things. But he enjoyed it, in spite of the occasional dark memories the work stirred up. We'd been dealing with those a lot lately—dark memories.

But we _were_ dealing. And it was a whole lot easier to deal together.

"How was class?" he asked.

"Nothing like this, actually," I said.

"Let me guess." He slid a pair of pliers from his work belt. "No holes in the ceiling? No sexy construction guys?"

I laughed.

He fake scowled. "There weren't any sexy construction guys, were there?"

" _Tons_ of sexy construction guys in Principles of Computing," I said. "I really hope you're ready to up your game because the competition is fierce."

"Just how many tons are we talking?"

"You want me to ask them to get on a scale?"

"With or without a work belt?"

"How about no clothes at all?"

"I don't think I like where this conversation is going."

"Really? I was just starting to find it interesting."

"Let's switch back to telepathy," he said, wrenching something out of the boards above him and then smiling down at me. "Read my mind now."

My face flushed. "You are very, very naughty."

"You can punish me later."

"With or without a work belt?"

His eyes, hazel, plain old beautiful, amazing, living hazel, sparkled. "I like the way you think."

Someone knocked on the front door behind me. I threw him a grin.

" _I know you do_."

I strode over to the door and pulled it open. The silly, completely happy, smile on my face slid away.

Josh lifted his chin. "Hi, Molly."

I touched his shoulder, just to make sure I wasn't imagining him, and then pulled him into a hug. This time, he put his arm around me and hugged me back.

"Where the hell have you been?" I asked. I pulled back. "We tried to find you at the hospital but you were gone and..." My fingers dug into his shoulder. "I should kick your ass right now. We didn't know what—"

Josh's gaze slid over my shoulder. I turned.

Nico had descended the ladder and now stood behind me.

I stepped aside. Out of the line of bro tension.

Josh let out a heavy breath and I might've been mistaken, but I swore I saw a faint teary sheen appear in his eyes.

"Hey," Nico said.

"Hey," Josh replied.

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously?"

They both shifted, looking uncomfortable.

"Let's not hug, okay?" Josh said.

"Agreed," Nico said. He stepped back. "Want to come in?"

"Got anything to eat?" Josh asked.

"I've got some nice screws and plates in my arm," Josh said, holding up his forearm where the scars were fresh and plenty gruesome, "but I can't say I remember much. You two were out, both hanging in coma-land and... someone came and picked me up after the surgery. I had to... get out of town."

He crumpled the greasy napkin and tossed it onto the coffee table.

Upstairs, it was much more comfortable—real furniture, second-hand, but comfortable, livable, new curtains and fresh paint, a rug. It was home. That is to say, it's where I found Nico at the end of the day and where we slept and where we woke up—together.

We'd spent the first hour with Josh just getting readjusted, asking over and over in a hundred different ways if we were all okay.

Somehow, it seemed like we were.

Now, it was time to get down to it.

" _Read his mind_ ," Nico was saying to me.

" _No!_ "

" _Just a little bit_."

I scooted away from Nico and leaned toward Josh, spinning the grease-stained cardboard circle that had once hosted a pizza.

"Do you remember anything?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, eyes flicking over to Nico. He'd been staring at Nico a lot. Not that I could blame him. I'd stared a lot too, in the beginning. Sometimes I still did. And not in an infatuated way, but just because it was so strange. He'd been a vampire and, now, he wasn't. No freaky eyes. No superfast movements or impossible stillness. He was beautiful, but the hyper-beauty was gone, all the edges softened. He was just... human again, normal.

Josh cleared his throat. "A little bit," he said.

Nico slid to the edge of the couch cushion. "And?"

Josh's fingers interlaced. His head bowed. "I saw Ennis."

The silence stretched for a moment. The windows were open. It was fall and the air was cool. A chilled breeze shook the brown and orange leaves free from the tree outside and they swirled past the house, whispering against the siding and the roof.

"She's gone, isn't she?" Nico asked.

Josh gave a slow nod. "Yeah. I saw Rafe. He was holding her. She... dusted."

Nico dropped back and I took his hand. He shook his head and looked away.

"I knew it," he said.

And he had. We both had.

We also knew Ennis hadn't attacked me for herself. She'd done it for Nico. To force him back into life. Maybe she'd been afraid he wouldn't do it on his own. Or couldn't. But we both understood she'd done it for him. And she hadn't intended on surviving.

That didn't stop him from hurting.

His pain was mine. And I ached for him.

"What about Gia?" I asked.

Josh's lips pressed. He held my gaze, steady, unblinking. "I wish I had something to tell you, but..." He shook his head. "Sorry."

I nodded, swallowing back the lump in my throat. I hadn't expected Josh to know anything. If she had died in the lot with the others, then... what was there to know?

"What about Rafe?" Nico asked.

Josh's face hardened. "There've been reports, but nothing we can pin down. The hunters... shit's been kind of fucked up. As you can imagine."

"Did you find your mole?" Nico asked in a voice that chilled me.

That happened sometimes.

He was human again, but... there were shadows and they haunted him. Sometimes, they crept out. He was still fighting for his soul in some ways. It was a battle. It would be a long one, I knew. I couldn't pretend I knew what we were in for. I had no idea. That's what life was all about. Not knowing. Accepting it. And living anyway. I had nearly died too many times to be afraid. Sometimes I wished Nico still had his vampire senses, so he could confirm what I already knew.

I wasn't afraid anymore.

I had a life to live.

"There's been some reorganization occurring," Josh said. "But I don't guess either of you really cares."

Nico frowned. "Why do you say that?"

Josh slouched back, holding up his hands, looking around. "Nice digs you got here, man. I like it."

Nico and I squeezed each other's hands.

Across from us, Josh sat, scarred and thin and a bit too pale. The circles under his eyes were the same bruised shade, but his eyes were, nonetheless, alert and clear—honed.

Josh was still fighting the fight.

And Nico and... . we were out.

The space between us and Josh seemed wide and insurmountable. At some point, we'd returned to the bright light of the living world. He was still in the dark with the monsters.

He sat forward, smiling at me as if reading _my_ mind. "You'll be alright."

"What about you?" I asked.

"Look at it this way," he said, "who's Lex Luthor without Superman?"

I was about to say a big, huh? But I felt Nico smile. Yes, I _felt_ it, like a shaft of sunlight hitting my bare skin.

Josh stood up and held a hand out to Nico.

"The whole melancholy, undead poet bit never suited you anyway," Josh said.

Nico slapped his hand into Josh's and they embraced, finally, loosely, the table between them.

Nico pushed him away, gently. "Go save the world, Superman."

Josh gave him a short, two-fingered salute. "That's Clark to you, civilian."

He headed for the door.

I stood.

"Are you leaving?" I asked. "Stay. Hang out."

He paused at the door. "Nah," he said. "But don't worry. I'll be around."
Epilogue

Josh

**I** opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. The interior was dark. Tinted windows. A cherry-shaped cardboard air freshener hung from the rearview mirror.

"I missed you," Gia said.

"Fuck off." I reached behind her seat to grab my laptop.

Her eyes had been stupid-bright before, but now they were mind-blowing. A color of blue that I was sure existed on no painter's palate, in no natural form, anywhere on the planet.

"You'd better be careful," she purred. "Don't forget, I bite."

"I'm counting on it." I flipped open my computer.

She leaned across the console, nipping at my ear. Thankfully, without the fangs this time.

"I know what you're thinking," she said.

"Come down with a case of mind reader?" I asked, pulling up the latest reports.

Her tone fell into a dark register. "He's screwing my sister."

"He loves your sister. And _she_ loves him."

She slumped back into the driver's seat. "I want to kill someone," she pouted.

"Working on it."

"What about _him_?" She ran her finger up my arm. "I know you want him dead. Let me kill him for you."

Tempting. Everything about Gia was tempting. Always had been. Now that she was a vampire, the situation was far more precarious. I'd tried to convince her to reveal herself to Molly, to become mortal again, but she threatened to eviscerate me every time I brought it up.

Not that I would stop.

One day, I would get Gia back. I would convince her. Or tell Molly the truth.

Or maybe I wouldn't live that long. I was pretty sure Gia was scheming to turn me.

The only thing saving all of us was Molly. Like Ennis, Gia was wholly devoted to keeping little sister safe and sound.

"Rafe is protecting them." I scrolled through a report from a hunter in Olympia.

"That's what he said," Gia muttered.

"And _you_ said he was telling the truth."

She snarled but didn't disagree.

He'd found us. After Gia had come to me in the hospital, pawing and needy, like a starving stray. Gia had nearly attacked him, but I'd somehow managed to keep her back.

He was going to make sure that Nico lived, Molly too, long and full and unbothered, because that's what Ennis had wanted. That's what she'd died for.

Neither of us had wanted to believe him.

But we both did anyway.

"Let's take a trip to Washington," I said.

"Yay. Do I get to kill someone?"

"Absolutely."

Her smile could've blinded the sun. "How did she look?"

I closed my laptop. "Happy."

"Then why are you sad?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Liar."

"Am I?"

"If you want to play a game," she said, "let's play find the vampire, kill the vampire."

"I like the way you play."

"I like when you tell the truth."

"I'm trying."

She put the car into drive. "Me too."
More A.M. Yates
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 _Minor Gods_ , _Stealer_ ,  
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Find A.M. Yates at  
amyates.com
**The Summoners Series**

 _Minor Gods_ : Book One  
 _Lost Gods_ : Book Two  
 _Fated Gods_ : Book Three

 **The Horizon Cycle**

 _Shield and the Shadow_  
 _Stoneheart and the Axe_  
 _Sparrow and the Dagger_ _Blood on the Blade_

 **The Stealer Series**

 _Stealer_  
 _Hunter_  
 _Unraveler_
**Poems Cited**  
 _All poems quoted  
are in the public domain._

Masters, Edgar Lee. "Emily Sparks."  
Orig. Pub.: 1915. Quoted Source: _poetryfoundation.org_

Poe, Edgar Allen. "Alone."   
Orig. Pub.: 1875 Quoted Source: _poetryfoundation.org_

Tsvetaeva, Marina. _from_ "Poems to Czechoslovakia."   
Orig. Pub.: 1939. Quoted Source: _poetryfoundation.org_
