Chapter Fourteen
“DAD,” I WHISPERED. I COULD HEAR HIM — THOUGH “hear” wasn’t quite the right word. It was more a matter of sensing him, feeling his fear and anguish through the sound of the thunder and the chill of the wind whipping around me.
“Will you go to him?” Christopher didn’t seem to approve or disapprove; he just watched, like he was taking my measure.
Could I face my father again? Face the risk that he would reject me forever, or turn against me?
Then the thunder rumbled one more time, and I felt the fear in my father’s heart more strongly than the fear in my own. Something terrible was happening, something much more important than the answers I needed. If Christopher turned against me now — if he tried to trap me in this place — I had to find Dad if I could.
“Yes,” I said . “I’m going.”
Christopher wasn’t angry; that was the first moment I felt that perhaps I could trust him. “Then I shall hope for your return.”
‘Til come back,” I promised Christopher. “I want to know more.”
“And I want to tell you.”
“How do I reach my father?”
“When the person you love wishes for you so desperately,” Christopher said, “you will find it impossible to be anywhere else.”
His face looked sorrowful as he said it, so much so that I wondered who had wished for him. But I couldn’t worry about Christopher for very long, not with Dad in danger or despair or whatever it was that clouded the skies above. I couldn’t worry about myself, either. My fears had been only a kind of selfishness; I saw that now. This land of lost things gave everything. whether seen or unseen, a brilliant clarity.
I closed my eyes and thought of my father. For the first time in months — since I’d died — !didn’t just think of the idea of him. I let myself remember so fully that it filled my heart. Tucking me into bed when I was a baby. Slow — dancing with Mom while Dinah Washington played on his old hi — fi. Making small talk with our neighbors in Arrowwood in an effort to fit in. Taking me to the beach because I loved it, though he hated sunlight. Griping about having to get up early in the morning, with his hair sticking out all over the place. Acting out his resurrection from the dead m with one of my old Ken dolls, to an audience of one very interested little girl and some highly surprised Barbies. Everything that made him Dad.
When I opened my eyes. he was there.
Or rather, I was back with him, at Evernight. Night had fallen — no telling how long it had been since I’d left. It had felt like minutes but could have been hours or days. My father stood in the center of the school library — The library! I thought, terrified, remembering the trap that had been here. But Lucas had taken it away, and perhaps it hadn’t been replaced. I felt fine. My father, on the other hand, seemed to be bracing himself against high winds. No, not “seemed to” — a gale — force wind had whipped up inside the room itself, each gust ice cold. I realized he was trapped; ice had formed between the bookshelves, creating a ten — foot — high frozen maze with my father in the center and no way out. A blue — gray shimmering form could just be made out in the far corner, someone skinny to the point of boniness, very old, almost bald. It could’ve been male or female. It was certainly a wraith.
“It tries,” the thing wheezed, in a voice that sounded like cracking ice. I recognized it: one of the Plotters. “It tries, but it’s too stupid to know what it’s doing wrong.”
Dad said, “You’ll be pulled in. You can’t hold out forever.” But he didn’t sound like he believed it. His eyes didn’t look angry or scared, just sad — the way they had when I’d seen him on the couch when I first retumed to Evernight. The way Lucas had looked when he went into his fatal battle with Charity. I realized why Dad had been thinking about me, calling to me; my father believed he was about to die his final death.
He’d been trying to lure this ghost into a trap, I realized — I could see one of the coppery seashell boxes at his feet, cracked in two and now apparently powerless. Why was Dad helping Mrs. Bethany?
The wheeze turned into a cackle. “Freeze it cold. Break it in two. No more head, no more noise.”
Dad’s face didn’t change, because he probably didn’t know what the wraith was talking about. But I knew. I’d used the power myself — the ability to reach inside a vampire and turn its body to ice. I’d seen how powerfully it could hurt vampires, and I didn’t doubt it could kill them.
The wraith swooped down, the malevolent spirit from my worst nightmares, the embodiment of everything that still terrified me about ghosts. I didn’t know what to do; I didn’t know if I had any power over other wraiths. Could it destroy me as well as my father? What could I do?
Instantly, I thought of my coral bracelet and the records room, and my spirit rematerialized tl1ere. Vic, who was sitting on a beanbag and reading a comic book, half snorted, half choked on a mouthful of soda when I appeared. “Whoa! Bianca, you gotta warn a guy.”
I’d hoped for Lucas or Balthazar. but I’d take whatever help I could get; even a simple interruption might make the wraith leave. “My dad’s in trouble — get to the library! Quick!”
just as fast, I thought of the gargoyle outside my old window — and I was there, hovering outside my old room. It was worth scaring the crap out of my mother if that got her down to the library to help Dad, but she Wasn’t there. Frustrated, I zipped down along the stones, seeking a familiar face; luckily, Patrice was there, alone, putting the fmishing touches on her manicure. I realized she was the one I’d needed all along. I frosted the window so fast it shook, and she opened it to thrust her head outside. “Bianca?”
“The library! Bring your mirror, now!”
I have to get back to Dad. But the tether I’d traveled along before had snapped; that kind of connection didn’t seem to work here in the mortal world. I’d have to take the long way. The only way to avoid leaving ice in my wake was to calm down and slow down, but this was no time for that.
I zoomed through Patrice’s room and down the hallways, ignoring the frost and the eerie blue lights that rippled around me, eve n when the other students began to scream. Skye, emerging from the shower, nearly dropped her towel, and I could see the wet strands of her hair freezing into icy points. Sony, I thought absently. I couldn’t worry about anyone right now besides my father.
My journey to the library probably took no more than a couple of minutes, but it seemed like eternity. When I went through the doors, a quick swipe of wood through my whole body, I cotuld see flickering blue light reflecting on and within what was now an enormous cage of ice. Somewhere in the middle of that crackling, sparkling prison was my dad. I pushed through the ice to the center.
There, to my horror, I saw Dad — swaying on his feet, leaning back at an impossible angle, pushing desperately against the fist of ice that was buried within his chest.
The wraith cackled. “Stupid it. Stupid it.”
“Get away from him!” I screamed. Not knowing what else to do, I threw myself into it from the side, as hard as I could. It simply went filmy and let me topple thr — ough. But I at least provided a distraction; the wraith pulled its icy hand from my father and turned toward me.
It was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen. At first I’d thought it was only old, but old people didn’t look like this. The “flesh” that it manifested didn’t seem to fit any longer — its lower eyelids sagged so far that I could see the full eye socket, and its lips drooped over its jaws, down by its chin. I backed away untilI touched the ice; I could’ve gone through it, but that would have meant abandoning Dad.
I heard a soft voice say, disbelieving, “Bianca?”
Dad! But I couldn’t look at him right now; this wraith needed to stay focused on me and not him.
The wraith’s round, eerie eyes lit up — literally, as though they were gas flames. I had no idea we could do that and seriously did not want to start. ··A baby,” it said.
“I might be new to this, but I promise you, I can — ” What could I do? “I can out — haunt you any day if you don’t leave him alone.”
“You can take us there,” it said, shuffling forward with an eagerness that was slightly childlike, and tl1erefore more disturbing.
Was this what Christopher had meant? That I was supposed to help creepy things like this?
Then I felt bad. If I hadn’t been able to create a body, and interact once more with the people who loved me, maybe I would have turned creepy, too. If it could go to that land of lost things. maybe it would stop being so scary and start to look like itself again. If I’d thought working with dead people was going to be pretty all the time — especially given some of the dead people I’d already known — then that was stupid of me.
Til take you,” I promised. I didn’t exactly know how to do that yet, but already I understood that if I couldn’t pick it up quickly, Christopher could help me. “Just let this man go, okay? We can go there right now.”
The wraith hesitated. Maybe it couldn’t believe its good luck.
But then its flaming eyes narrowed, slits of unearthly ftre blue. “It doesn’t get to run away,” it hissed. “Not after what it did.”
“I don’t care what he was doing. It doesn’t matter! You can leave this place now. Isn ‘t that more important?”
It didn’t answer me. The wraith had to think, I realized — it was divided between hope and hate, unable to choose one over the other.
Softly. I added, “Where we’re going . .. it can be beautiful. It’s better than haunting a school. anyway. You have to see it. Come on.” I forced myself to offer my hand to the wraith, though its fingers were clawlike and bony.
For another moment, the wraith hesitated. I dared to glance over at my father and wished instantly that I hadn’t; tears were running down his cheeks as he looked up at me, and I thought maybe he was crying because I had turned into something so horrible — something just like this creature that had tried to hurt him.
Then the wraith suddenly shrieked in rage. “It doesn’t! It doesn’t get to run away.” Hate had won.
It dove for my father, and I tried to get between them. I couldn’t stop the wraith, exactly, but it was like we somehow tangled up in each other neither of us solid, neither of us distinct. Like fluffernutter in a sandwich: a gooey, sticky mess. The wraith’s spirit curled around my own, sicker and sadder than I’d realized, and I shuddered in revulsion.
“Get away from me!” I pushed the wraith away, and it worked. The ghost sprang above us, a coiled blue streak of electricity just beneath the ceiling. I had a sudden image of it coming down as a thunderbolt. Who would it strike first? My dad or me? And what would happen when it did?
Then the wraith screamed, a pitiful sound, and dissolved into bluish smoke that swirled down toward the library door. Within a second the light had gone out, and there was silence.
I realized what must have happened. “Patrice?” I called.
“It’s in my new compact!” she called from beyond the ice. “Which just happens to be Estee Lauder. This thing had better not break it.” Then I heard the sound of Vic’s amazed laughter. “That was incredibly cool.”
“I try,” she said.
The ice walls surrounded my father and me. Although I guessed they’d melt eventually, I didn’t like the idea of leaving him in there alone to be 143 found in the morning. “Can you guys break us out?”
“Yeah, hang on!” Vic sounded excited about the whole process. “I’m gonna use the emergency fire ax. Try out some of Ranulf’s moves.”
As I heard them going into the hallway for the fire ax, I knew that there was no other way to avoid it. Bracing myself, I turned to once again face my father.
“Bianca,” he said again. His cheeks were wet from tears. “It’s … really you?”
“Yeah.” My voice sounded so small. “Dad, I’m sorry.”
“Sony? n Dad grabbed me and hugged me so hard that my semisolid body almost gave way, but I held on. “My baby girl. You don’t have to be sorry for anything. You’re here. You’re here.”
And I knew that he didn’t care that I was a wraith, or that I’d been so stupid and wrong about so many things, or that we’d fought the last time we talked. My dad still loved me.
If I could have cried, I would have. As it was, the joy that spread through me turned into light and warmth, a soft glow like a candle — and I could feel it soothing my father’s pain. “I missed you, “I whispered. “I missed you and Mom so much.”
“Why didn’t you come to us?”
“I was scared you wouldn ‘ t want me anymore. Now that I’m a wraith.”
“You’re my daughter. That never changes.” Dad’s face was creased with pain. “We hated them so much . . . were so afraid of them. Of course you were scared. We were so — obstinate and shortsighted about this. We should have talked to you.”
“If I’d known . . .” I didn’t know what I would ‘ve done, if I had known. Would I have turned into a vampire? Chosen my present path? I couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter. We were here now. “I’m sorry I ran away like that. I know I scared you.”
My dad’s expression suggested that I hadn’t known the half of it, but he never stopped embracing me. “It’s that boy. He was always a bad influence on you — ”
“Dad, no. I made the decision to go on my own. Lucas helped take care of me, but it was my choice. If you’ re angry about it — and I don’t blame you — you have to understand that it was my fault. Only mine.”
Dad stroked my hair, but said nothing. I knew he didn’t believe me.
“Lucas needs your help,” I whispered. “He’s having trouble with the transition. He hates what he is and can’t get over it. You could help him.”
“That’s too much to ask.”
“That’s what I’m asking.” But after what I’d put my father through in the past few months, maybe I didn’t have the right to demand a whole lot, at least not now. “When you’ re ready. Think about it.”
The library doors squeaked, and I heard Vic yell, “Fire brigade’s here!”
My dad and I took hands as Vic and Patrice started chopping their way through the ice. They were laughing — apparently it was wet, messy work — which let me whisper to him privately, “Can we go see Mom?”
I thought he’d be so thrilled, but instead he hesitated. “We should wait. Not long — I need to think about how best to handle it.”
My heart sank. “You think Mom wouldn’t be able to accept this. She hates the wraiths. Is she going to hate me?”
“Your mother loves you forever,” Dad said fiercely. “just like me. But her experiences with the wraiths have been worse than most. After the Great Fire of London, and the mass destruction of the ghosts there, the few wraiths that remained were — insane doesn’t even come close. Celia lingered for days with her injuries, and would ‘ ve died if I hadn’t — well. While she was trapped between life and death, she had some terrifying experiences. You’ll never know how hard it was for her to agree to the brief encounter with the wraith that created you. This stuff frightens her pretty badly to this day.”
“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 t\vo 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.
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.”