Two days later, the burns are mostly gone. All that remains is fleshy reddened marks, no worse than some I had as a human.

There has still been no word from Carver. We arrived at his safe house the same night and whenever the pain receded enough for me to be lucid I waited, tense with anxiety, for his call. For any sign at all. There was nothing. When I slept, I dreamed of the party. I saw Carver served up to the ortolan eaters in Gluttony, flayed and gutted in Wrath, doped into mindlessness in Sloth while Morana did whatever she pleased to him. Again and again I saw the last moments in the garden and wondered what I could have done differently to save him. Why he hadn’t woken up with us.

I lay on the bed in my room, staring into space. I hadn’t done much else since we arrived. Everything hurt too much, literally and metaphorically. Lucian and I put aloe on each other’s burns and tried to comfort one another, but there wasn’t much he could to make me feel less guilty.

“My life shouldn’t be more important than his,” I told Lucian the last time we talked about it. “My life shouldn’t be more important than anyone’s.”

If Carver was dead, I think, then we should have all died together. I don’t tell anyone this. It would only make them worry, and we have enough to worry about already. The safe house won’t be safe for long. We have to assume Morana knew where Carver’s houses were. Lucian, Reina and Row are already making plans about where to go next. I let them plan without me. It doesn’t matter. Anywhere we go without Carver will be the same. And I hate the thought of leaving this place, of possibly making it even harder for him to find us. Reina had suggested leaving him a message, but Row had vetoed it. Anything that Carver could understand, someone else could figure out. Or Carver could be tortured to give away.

“Once things have settled down, we’ll look for him ourselves,” Lucian promised. “Once you’re safe, that will be our number one priority.”

But I couldn’t believe him. We’d never be safe enough. And if Morana had Carver then we wouldn’t be able to get him back even if we found him. She was too strong.

I put my face in my hands, curled up in the fetal position on the bed, twisted up in miserable thoughts and worst case scenarios.

A tap on the door breaks me from my miserable contemplation and I look up as Reina opens the door, peering in cautiously.

“Can I come in?” she asks softly. I shrug, rolling onto my side facing away from her. The bed dips as she sits down next to me. After a moment, I feel her arm around my waist as she curls up behind me, her head against my shoulder.

“How are you doing?” she asks.

“Bad,” I say honestly.

“Burns still hurting you?”

“Yeah.” But that’s not what I meant. The physical pain I can deal with. It’s the mental anguish of never seeing Carver again that’s got me distraught.

She squeezes me a little tighter, avoiding the burns carefully.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

I consider saying no, but not talking certainly hasn’t helped me feel any better. And Reina is my best friend. If anyone can understand how I’m feeling it’s her.

“I don’t know what to do about Carver,” I tell her. “I can’t stop feeling like it’s my fault, or like I’ve betrayed him by leaving him behind. Morana could be torturing him right now, and it’s my fault.”

“It’s not,” Reina insists. “You know it’s not. You didn’t plant that bomb.”

“That doesn’t stop me from feeling like I did,” I reply, squeezing her hand where it lays on my stomach. “All those people- Sure they were Morana’s vampires, but so was Carver. Not all of them were evil. There were kind people there, and people she’d used and broken. There was this man- I barely spoke to him, I just helped him dry off after someone dumped a drink on him, but I keep thinking about him. He was nice. He told me that place didn’t suit me. He wanted me to leave. I think he might have known what was going to happen. Maybe he’s the one who set the bomb and he was trying to get me to leave to save me. Or maybe he was just a nice guy and he’s dead now and I didn’t do anything to stop it.”

“Have you told Lucian about that?” Reina asks, sounding concerned. “That could be important.”

I shake my head.

“There’s been too much going on,” I say. “I haven’t really thought about it till right now. I saw him coming out of the Pride room right before Morana brought us back there for her sick little presentation. I didn’t realize it, but he didn’t have a smell. I was too freaked out by Morana to notice. But I think he was wearing a scent suppressant.”

“Shit,” Reina says, leaning over me to look me in the eye. “You totally met the bomber.”

“I guess so,” I say, shivering a little. “He seemed so nice. He had these beautiful green eyes.”

“Nice people don’t blow up parties,” Reina reminds me. “Not even parties held by that monster Morana. You don’t get to blow up and kill a bunch of people and still be a nice person, no matter what those people have done to you. Whoever that guy was, he’s not nice.”

She’s right, but I don’t want to argue about it.

“I don’t know what to do about it anyway,” I tell her with a shrug. “It’s not like a got his name. He’s just one vampire among thousands. And even if we could track him down, what would we do with him? Besides like, buy him a drink and say ‘thanks for seriously wounding our biggest enemy.’ And what do we do after that? I have no idea what to do now, besides just… stay in hiding for the rest of my presumably eternal life. We’ve got no leads on Abe, the Dakvahar have been all but wiped out thanks to Morana and Jolie, and Carver…”

I shake, feeling tears in my eyes again, and Reina pulls away.

“You need to eat,” she says, leaning over me again, this time with a blood pack… and a cookie. “You’ll never finish healing if you starve yourself.”

I take both somewhat reluctantly and nibble the cookie as Reina strokes my hair.

“This is really good,” I admit, and Reina grins.

“Made it myself. Row’s completely addicted. Now he can’t leave me or he’ll never get his cookie fix.” She fakes a dramatic evil laugh and I can’t help smiling, but it doesn’t last.

I stare at the wall as I sip my blood, my thoughts still on Carver.

“I don’t know what to do without him,” I tell her. “He’s always been here to guide me. Without him I’m… lost. What am I going to do if he never comes back?”

Reina looks at me for a moment, her hand on my shoulder. “You’ll pull up your big girl panties and handle it,” she says firmly. “We will handle it, together. You’re a god damn immortal ass vampire. And you know I’ve got you babe. Forever and ever. If we can’t get through this no one can.”

“But Carver-“ I start to say.

“Fuck Carver,” Reina interrupts. “I love you, and I know you love him and I hope to hell that he’s alive and finds his way back to you. I know Lucian believes he will. But fuck him. He’s not the one Abe sent visions to. He’s not the one who’s going to stop Morana and save us. It’s you. And you can do it with or without him, hear me?”

Her words are harsh, but I can hear the truth in them, even if I don’t want to. “I’m not sure I want to save us without him,” I admit, my voice small. “Without him, it’s hard to feel like there’s a point.”

“There’s a million points,” Reina counters. “Chief among them: ME. Your best friend, who doesn’t want to die or be enslaved to a crazy ass vampire queen! Not to mention your other boyfriend. And cookies. And sunsets. And New Orleans jazz. And the pyramids! We’ve never seen the pyramids, Aura! And a million other things. And you have a literal eternity to travel the world, seeing and experiencing all of that! Or at least, we will if you get your shit together and stop that crazy bitch from killing us. Is that enough of a point, Aura? Or are you going to lay here moping about it until Morana kills us?”

I stare at her, processing, trying to think of an answer. She’s right, and I feel even worse for being selfish and stupid. I just don’t know what to do.

There’s a knock at the door before I can answer her.

“Yeah?” she calls, and Row opens the door.

“You need to come downstairs,” he says his expression serious and concerned.

“Is it Carver?” I ask, sitting up immediately, fear and hope warring within me. But Row shakes his head.

“No. Just… come downstairs.”