THREE HOURS AND ONE VERY tense border check later, we were pulling up to a palatial Spanish–style mansion in Santa Monica. I only knew it was Santa Monica because of the end destination on the GPS screen that was mounted to the dash in front. I hadn’t really been talking for a lot of the trip. I longed to sleep but wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything important.
We drove through a set of gates and into a large, walled lot that seemed to stretch out for miles. There was a circular driveway leading to the split–level residence. The house appeared to be made out of limestone, and was rendered in a burnt red color. A thick green grapevine twirled up a trellis between two gigantic windows and black iron balconies jutted out from the second floor. I took a look at the stairs leading up to the massive double wooden front doors and guessed they were made from marble.
The house probably would have fit in perfectly in Mexico, but here we were, in what looked to be a wealthy part of Los Angeles. I had never been to the West coast, and the heat struck me as soon as I got out of the car. It was a dry, intense heat that made my skin prickle in discomfort.
Ryan appeared beside me. “You feel okay?”
I nodded, suddenly woozy from thirst and the heat. “Where are we?”
“Ivy’s place.” Ryan placed his hand in the small of my back, guiding me up the stairs. I looked at what he was holding. “Hey!” I said indignantly. “That’s my bag!”
Sure enough, he was holding my handbag. I had assumed that I would never see it again, but here it was, taunting me. I hadn’t seen it since the night I’d been taken, and looking at it now brought back every awful thing that had happened that night.
I don’t want your ring, or your Canal Street knock–off.
I clenched my jaw, my chest swiftly filled with rage. When we got up to the front door, I stopped dead and refused to go past the threshold.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked, but I could tell he already had some idea what I was thinking.
“I want to go home,” I said stubbornly.
Ryan sighed. “You’re not a prisoner here. You can do whatever you want. But,” he pointed at my swiftly reddening skin, “you’re going to regret it if you stay outside.”
I stared at him angrily, searching his face for any sign of malice or lies.
“Give me until sundown,” he said quickly. “You can rest, we can talk. Then you can make a decision about what you want to do.”
I wavered in the doorway. Should I shelter in the little shade there was, somehow get to a phone, and call the police? For the first time, it didn’t seem so clear–cut anymore. I was starting to turn a beautiful shade of lobster red when Ivy breezed past me, carrying a duffel bags and dragging a roll–along suitcase that I’d seen before.
“Is that my stuff?” I shrieked, pointing. Ivy handed the bags to Ryan and gestured for him to continue inside the house.
“How did you get my stuff? Did you hurt my mom?”
“Your mom’s fine. She packed these bags for you. She thinks you’re at an intensive track camp at The University of California.”
“Why does she think that?” I demanded, feeling hotter by the second.
“You’ve been emailing her almost every day,” Ryan answered. “Come inside, I’ll explain.”
“I can’t believe this.” I shook my head, overwhelmed. My mom thought I was at track camp? No wonder nobody had rescued me. Nobody even knew I was missing.
“Look, kid,” Ivy said, studying my face intently while she chewed strawberry–flavored gum. I knew it was strawberry because my sense of smell had become so acute in the past few days. I could even tell what brand of gum she had in her mouth. “I know where you’ve been, I’ve been there as well. I was taken by the same person you were.”
“Him?” I said incredulously, pointing through the door where Ryan had disappeared.
She smiled, shaking her head. “Not him. Caleb.” She paused, looking me up and down. “Ryan’s not a bad person. He –”
“–is a terrible person,” I interjected. “I’m not buying, lady.”
She pressed her lips together, seemingly amused. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you reading my mind or my face now?”
The smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. I stood in front of one incredibly pissed–off vampire, and I had no idea what I’d said to get that reaction from her.
“Get inside,” she hissed. I tried to resist, but her words were absolutely magnetic. I shuffled through the door, into the house, and jumped as it was slammed shut behind me.
My eyes adjusted instantly to the dimly lit hallway, which surprised me. I didn’t have time to think about my new improved vision, though. I walked down the terracotta–tiled hallway, into a huge, open–plan kitchen and dining area. Through that room, the hallway continued, and I saw Ryan disappear into a doorway on the left. I followed dubiously, making sure to pay as much attention as possible to my surroundings. It looked, for the most part, like a regular house. Which was kind of a relief after the twisted shit I’d seen in the last few weeks.
I poked my head into the room where Ryan had disappeared, to find a large double bedroom. Ryan had set my stuff on the floor in front of a white, canopied, King-sized bed.
“This is your room,” he said. “Until you go home.”
“Which home are we talking about now?” I asked, barging past him and snatching up my handbag.
“Mia,” he said, and I felt dread at hearing my name come out of his mouth. I ignored him, kneeling in front of the bed and dumping the contents of my handbag onto the fluffy white duvet. My iPhone, keys, tampons and a can of mace spilled out in a messy pile. I grabbed the phone triumphantly and pressed the ON button.
“Mia, can you listen for a minute?” I felt him crouching beside me but didn’t look. I looked at my blank iPhone screen in frustration and tried pressing the power button again. It was no use. The battery was probably drained by now. I started opening compartments in my handbag, finding tissues, study notes and crumpled up receipts, but no charger.
“Mia?”
I rummaged some more and my fingers brushed against a smooth, almost waxy piece of paper tucked into the side of my bag. I dug it out and stared at life as I had known it before Ryan had taken me. It was a strip of photos from one of those old–school photo booths. On the last day of work at Jefferson Lake, the camp had held a carnival day, complete with pony rides, water slides—and a photo booth. Jared, Evie and I had crammed into the kid–sized compartment and posed for laughs. The first two photos were of all three of us, pulling stupid faces. Then there was a photo of Evie and I, smiling and laughing. The last photo was Jared and I, sharing a corny kiss. I stared in horror at my old life as I tried to hold the shattered pieces of myself together.
Ryan took the phone from me and placed it on the bed in front of us. I didn’t care about the stupid phone any more. Even if I did call home, what was I going to say? The truth? It sounded fucking ridiculous. I got kidnapped by vampires, Mom. How are you?
“Mia!” Ryan snapped, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me out of my thoughts.
“What?” I yelled. Tears filled my eyes but I refused to let them spill over.
He let go of my shoulder and spoke in a softer voice. “I know this is hard for you. There are things happening right now that you can’t even begin to understand. Just remember this: You’re not dead. It was close—you were almost gone too far for my blood to bring you back. You can see them again,” he gestured to the photo strip in my hand, “but first I need to make sure you’re safe. The people who were after you in Mexico still want you back.”
I glared at him. “Is this supposed to make me happy?” I asked coldly. “Because it doesn’t. At all.”
He looked genuinely confused. “I saved your life after you jumped out of a window. You nearly bled to death. You should be happy.”
“I never asked you to save me,” I snapped, feeling sick for the thousandth time. “I asked you to leave me there to die, remember?”
He shook his head, got up and left the room. I slammed the door behind him with a satisfying crash.
I took a deep breath and looked around my new cage. It sure was pretty, but it was still essentially a cage. The only things missing were a length of chain hanging from the ceiling and a dead girl in the corner.
You know, I like you. I might just keep you after Caleb’s finished.
I pressed my palms to my burning cheeks and wondered what the hell could possibly happen next.