“Mom would be . .. scared of me?”
“We’ll get her through it,” he promised. Already Dad looked better than I’d seen him since before I died. Younger, if that was possible. There was a light in his eyes, and no shadow behind his smile. “I don’t want to leave her mourning for much [onger. It would be — I’m not going to do that to her. I just want to think about how best we can break it to her.”
“Okay.” That sounded fair. As badly as I wanted to see Mom again, to double the happiness I felt at this moment, I trusted Dad’s judgment. He’d loved my mother for about four hundred years now; he knew her better than anyone else ever could. “Wait — you said the Great Fire of London. It destroyed all the ghosts?”
He seized my arms. “Bianca, don’t you know? If a wraith is trapped within a structure, and that structure burns, the wraith is destroyed. You 145 have to be careful. Fire could hurt you.”
Dad might have been lecturing my three — year — old self about why it was a bad idea to touch the stove while it was on. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend to let myself get trapped.”
The ice wall closest to us shattered, and Dad and I jumped back. Standing on the other side, sprinkled with flakes of ice, were Vic and Patrice. Vic, who held the ax, looked like he’d never had more fun in his life; Patri — ce gingerly brushed dripping curls of hair away from her eyes. “How’s it going, Mr. Olivier?” Vic said cheerfully.
Patrice held out her expensive compact, which was completely caked with ice. “Any ideas what I should do with this thing? I’m not putting it back in my makeup bag.”
Dad stared at them, then at me, like he was just putting something together. “Wait — your friends, they all . .. know about you? Spend time with you?”
“Yeah. It took me a little while to figure out how to make it work, but we got it.”
“Lucas … Balthazar . ..” Dad’s forehead furrowed.
“Yes, they’ve always known,” I said. “And don’t get mad at them for not telling you. That was my decision, too.”
“Oh, man, awkward.” Vic tucked the ax behind his back, like that was the reason things might be difficult. “Should we go?”
“I’m not taking this with me,” Patrice said, holding the ice — coated compact out from her with two fingers, like it smelled bad. “Give it to me.” Dad saw her hesitate and sighed. “We’ll return the mirror later.”
Patrice looked doubtful, but she handed over the compact. “Well, that’s done. Glad to help. See you later, okay?”
“Okay,” I said. Vic just nodded at us and sheepishly followed Patrice out. As they went, I saw her staring down disapprovingly at her nails; apparently, in her rush to help me, she’d wrecked her new manicure. For Patrice, that was a sign of real dedication.
My father and I were alone again. Wordlessly, we stepped out of the winding blocks of ice into a snug corner of the library, where a small sofa sat between two of the tallest bookshelves. It was a good place to sit and talk, though at the moment we weren ‘t talking. There was so much to say 146 that I couldn’t think of where to begin; I started with the place where tonight’s confrontation had begun. “What were you doing with that box?”
“Trying to catch a wraith.” His eyes tracked over to the far wall of the library — the place where the trap had been set. Dad’s hands closed around mine, like he was unwilling to let me go even for a second. “It had settled in here without — ”
“Without being caught. Because the trap was broken.” I realized for the first time that my father might already have the answers I’d been searching for. “Dad, what’s going on? Why is Mrs. Bethany setting these traps for the wraiths?”
“To stop them, of course. They’re not all like you. Most of them are like that thing we just captured.”
“No, most of them are more like me — ourselves, mostly, the people that we were before. You just don’t see those. They don’t haunt places the same way.”
He opened his mouth as if to argue, before realizing that I really did know more about this. “If we’d understood that . ..”
Although Dad had trailed off, I could follow his train of thought. “You would have told me about my turning into a wraith, wouldn’t you? But because you thought it meant being some scary, horrible thing — something that could never be your daughter again.”
“I couldn’t stand to say the words. And we thought it would scare you.” Dad looked very tired. “We just tried to make vampirism as attractive as possible. There didn’t seem to be any reason for you to question it, or turn away.”
Not until I feJJ in Jove with a human, I thought. That was the real source of their anger toward Lucas, I realized; it didn’t have much to do with anything Lucas had done or not done. He had given me an alternative — made me question everything I’d taken for granted. I wondered if Dad realized it, too.
I turned back to the subject. “Anyway, most ghosts aren’t as crazy as that one.”
“Most of the ones here seem to be,” he pointed out. “Remember the autumn ball last year?”
Like I’d forget nearly being crushed by massive spears of falling ice. “If they’re so dangerous, why is Mrs. Bethany bringing them here in the first place?”
“Bringing them here? Bianca, what do you mean?”
Quickly I explained the secret common element that every human student at Evernight shared — each of them came from a haunted home and 147 was connected to a ghost or ghosts. Some of those ghosts had followed them here. “That’s why she let humans in to begin with. To bring the ghosts.”
“You don’t think it might have something to do with the fact that human students help the vampire students acclimate to the present day? There’s no better preparation for fitting in with humanity than actually spending time with human beings.” He squeezed my hands tightly, like he thought I was being a little silly, but didn’t mind.
But I shook my head. W Maybe that helps. But seriously, Dad, every single one of the humans? There aren’t that many wraiths. Not even close.
There’s no way that’s a coincidence.”
“So she has some purpose behind trapping ghosts. Some purpose we don’t know. I’ll try to find out.” My father’s expression changed then, turning sharp and distant, like he was mad at someone not in the room.
“Dad?”
“It’s just — Nothing.” He turned his attention back to me and hugged me tightly. My glow of happiness lit up the entire library and turned it to gold. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except having you back.”
We stayed with each other for a while after that, but we’d already said the most important things. Soon he would tell Mom; until then, the two of us agreed to meet up after his classes so we could at least spend a few minutes a day together checking in, finding out how to navigate being father and daughter now that so much had changed. It was a place to start, and I felt like all we needed was that beginning.
When, after midnight, my father finally went up to his rooms, I felt exhausted — like I needed! to “fade out” for a while, the closest I could get to sleeping. But I knew I had more important things to do. Though I had now met Christopher, and had changed my mind about being scared of all ghosts, I’d just gotten a big wake — up call about how dangerous they could be to the people I loved. I’d struck back against a wraith once now; it was time to discover what else I could do, without Patrice by my side.
Whatever else Black Cmss had done to me, they’d made me a fighter. It was past time for me to act like one.
Of course, to test myself in a fight, I needed a wraith to fight with. But for a few days now, I·d had a candidate in mind — one ghost that I knew 148 absolutely, positively used his powers in the most evil way. That sounded like a good place to start.
“That’s awesome,” Lucas said as he sat on the stone steps with me the next afternoon. “I mean it, Bianca. It’s great that your father knows, and it’s going to be good between you and your parents.”
His eyes were shadowed as
he said it. I knew that had nothing to do with his feeling about my reconciliation with Dad; it was the memory of Kate’s brutal attacks that hurt him now. The cruelty of her rejection struck me harder now that I, too, had faced my father — !knew the fear and vulnerability of that moment. Lucas had shown even more courage and faith than I had; his trust in her had been immediate and total. His reward had been betrayal. I couldn’t imagine how much that must have hurt.
“Your mom might come around,” I said softly. “Given time.”
Lucas smiled grimly as he shook his head. “I’m nothing but a monster to her now. Never will be anything else.” I touched his face. “You’re not a monster.”
“Yes, I am. Got the fangs to prove it.”
“Then you’re not only a monster. You’re also a good man.” I smiled, scattering a sof t glow around us in the stairwell. Hopefully that had helped him, but I thought it would be a good idea to change the subject, too. “So, what do you think of my plan?”
“I hate it.”
“You think it’s a bad idea?”
“No,” he admitted. “It’s a good idea. You’ve got to go up against a wraith sometime, and I can’t think of a better candidate than that creep. But it’s dangerous. I hate the fact that I can’t protect you.”
“I can protect myself.”
An unwilling smile spread across Lucas’s face. “I know that. I trust you. And I’ve seen what you can do when you set your mind to it. But I always wanted to be the one looking out for you, you know? I’ve gotta learn to let you fight your own battles — at least the ones I can’t fight for you.”
Understanding, I said, “You just don’t have to like it.”
“Exactly . ..” His voice trailed off as we heard footsteps on the stairs above us. Quickly I vanished, turning into a fine cloud of mist that could easily hide in a corner. Lucas stood up, adjusting his uniform sweater, and said to the unseen person, “Hey!”
His voice was a little too loud, an attempt at forced cheer, and it must have scared somebody who thought she was alone. I heard a feminine cry of surprise, and then a thudding on the stairs. Lucas ran up, taking tvo steps at a time, as I followed behind.
There, uniform kilt practically around her waist and books scattered around, lay Skye. She scrambled into a sitting position when she saw Lucas, tucking her kilt back into place as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “You scared me! I thought I was alone,” she said. “And these stairs — they’re slippery — ”
“You don’t have to apologize for falling down,” Lucas said. “I startled you, and yeah, the steps suck. You okay, Skye?”
“Mostly just humiliated.”
“No need to be freaked out because of me. So You’re okay.” He bent over, maybe to help her up or to pick up some of her books — and froze.
I saw it only a moment later. Skye had skinned her knee when she felL Crisscrossing the pale skin of her knee were stripes of blood, beading up thicker by the moment.
Lucas’s eyes narrowed, and I could see his entire body tense as he breathed in the scent.
Skye saw it too and winced. “So, not just a bruise. Don’t guess you happen to have any Band — Aids on you?”
“No,” Lucas said slowly. His gaze — his whole being — was focused entirely on the blood. As his jaw worked, I realized his fangs were threatening to emerge.
Lucas, no. Lucas, snap out of it. Did I dare to materialize? It would scare the hell out of Skye, but if Lucas was about to bite her . . . but he wouldn’t. He couldn ‘t.
“Of course you don’t have a Band — Aid. Guys don’t carry purses,” Skye said as if she were scolding herself. She bent the leg, bringing the knee closer to her face — and his. “Maybe I’ve got a tissue in my backpack, but I think I left my ftrst — aid stuff in the stables. Let me check.”
As she unzipped her backpack, her shining brown hair fell across her face and obscured her view of Lucas. I could feel temptation radiating from him like heat. He wanted blood — her blood — this second. He wanted it worse than anything else, enough to forget that I was watching, maybe enough to forget everything but his vampire hunger.
l made up my mind to appear and was gathering myself together to do it, when I heard someone else walk onto the floor above. The click — clack 150 of footsteps made Skye look up, though Lucas never took his eyes off the bleeding wound.
“Miss Tierney.” Mrs. Bethany’s rich voice echoed slightly in the stairwell. I saw her appear first as a shadow in the darkness, as if she were made out of nothing but night. “I see You’ve had an accident. And Mr. Ross is helping you.”
Skye smiled unevenly. “Yeah, tripped and fell.”
As they spoke, Lucas finally pulled himself together with a start. He didn’t seem to remember where he’d been or how he’d gotten here. Hurriedly he held out his arm to help Skye to her feet.
Mrs. Bethany held out a lacy white handkerchief. “Bandage it as best you can until you can get the first — aid kit.”
“It’s so pretty,” Skye protested, her fingers brushing over the delicate lace. “I don’t want to bleed on it.”
“If you rinse the linen in cold water as soon as possible, there will be little chance of any stain, “Mrs. Bethany said. “And a ruined handkerchief would be infinitely preferable to a student bleeding profusely in the hallways.”
Obviously Mrs. Bethany knew better than to tempt the undead half of the student body.
Skye thanked Mrs. Bethany and Lucas as Lucas returned her books to her backpack and handed it over. Just as she was leaving, she cast a curious glance at Lucas, maybe realizing that he’d hardly spoken a word since he’d seen her skinned knee. But she said nothing about it as she went limping back up toward her dorm room.
When Mrs. Bethany and Lucas were again alone, except for me, she gave him a hard stare. “You found that difncult, didn’t you?”
Lucas just nodded. He couldn ‘ t meet her eyes. I knew that shame had to be consuming him from the inside out. He hated himself for craving blood, and being tempted to attack a human — especially a human who had always been kind to him — would be unbearable.
“Take heart, Mr. Ross.” Mrs. Bethany put that familiar hand on his shoulder again. “There is a way beyond your present difficulty.”
“What, is there a way to stop vampires from wanting blood?” he scoffed.
“‘ Yes.”
He stared at her in blank surprise, at least so far as I could tell; I was too astonished to notice anything but my own shock.
Wanting blood — that was what made a vampire a vampire. Besides, Evernight Academy was almost wholly made up of vampires who didn’t 151 attack humans; wouldn’t they teach this kind of thing instead of driver’s ed!?
At Lucas’s stunned response, Mrs. Bethany smiled thinly. Her fingers tightened on his shoulder. “A way to silence the bloodlust forever,” she murmured. “It’s real. And it’s going to be mine. “
Lucas was utterly still, staring up at her raptly. “Teach me,” he said.
“When you’re ready.” She turned to go, but said, as she began to walk upstairs with her long skirts in her hands, “I think that will be very soon.” When we were alone again, he whispered, “Is it real? Bianca, can she be telling the truth?”
“I don’t know.”
The rest of the day passed in a weird sort of blur for me. My anxiety about Mrs. Bethany’s increasing hold on Lucas kept me from focusing properly on anything, including the task at hand. But as night fell and Lucas and my friends went to bed, I forced myself to get it together.
If I failed tonight, I would never have the courage to stand up to the wraiths again. And that meant I might never be able to control my own destiny.
I concentrated on an object that had been meaningful to me during my life — a potential “subway stop” I could travel to at any time. This would be tricky, though; this object hadn’t belonged to me. It was owned by someone else. Someone who maybe never wanted to see me again — but she was about to.
br /> I filled my mind with the image, willing myself to see it, to be one with it: a braided, tawny leather bracelet.
Evernight Academy vanished. Everything around me went dark. As I looked around, I could see a few points of illumination — strips of lights through Venetian blinds, revealing the garish neon of a cheap hotel’s sign and blocky numerals on a digital alarm clock.
To my relief, this was a private room instead of a full Black Cross lair. I’d suspected as much, but all the same, it was better to know for sure. I decided the room needed another light source and turned up my own glow, filling the room with soft blue light that outlined my spectral form. Now I could see the hotel bed, and the two figures who slept there.
One of them shifted beneath the covers, then sat bolt upright. She blinked once, then said, “Bianca?”
I smiled. “Hey, Raquel.”
Chapter Fifteen
RAQUEL STARED AT ME, HER SHORT BLACK HAIR rumpled and her eyes wide. “Am I dreaming?” she whispered. “No,” I said.
She punched at the other person sleeping in the bed — her girlfriend, Dana, who sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. “What is it, babe?”
I brightened a little more, daring to take firmer shape. “Hey, Dana.”
Dana did a double take that, under other circumstances, would’ve been funny.
“Are you here to haunt me?” Raquel asked. She had scooted backward, against the headboard of the bed, like she wanted to get away. One of her crazy — quilt montages had been pinned to the wall, a collection of magazine snippets and found objects that Raquelliked to turn into art. “I knew it.”
“What? No.” Then I realized why Raquellooked so scared and guilty; she thought I remained angry about her having turned me in to Black Cross.
Which I was, a little bit. I hadn’t quite realized that until I saw her again, without any horde of Black Cross fighters to get in the way. Dana interrupted, “How’s Lucas doing? In Riverton, he didn’t look good.”
“He’s having a hard time.” That was totally inadequate for what Lucas was going through, but I didn’t know what else to say.