But then I heard a whisper. “You, there.”

I stared. In a small cubby at the end of the lobby, near what looked like a side door, stood the vampire. His body was tense, almost in a crouch, and his brilliant blue eyes locked with mine.

“You’re one of us,” he said, in an accent that I thought might be Australian. “So what are you doing with Black Cross?”

“Long, long, long story.” At least he knew he was being tracked. “They’re on to you. You have to get out of here for now.”

“I just got this place. D’ya have any idea how hard it is to find a place on the East Side?”

“If you take off now, they won’t think about coming back here even after a couple of days. They don’t think we have…homes, or friends, or anything like that.” The bitterness in my voice surprised me; I thought I’d made my peace with our situation in Black Cross, at least for now, but the pent-up tension threatened to shake loose. “All you have to do is clear out for a couple of days. Stay with someone you know.”

“Summer in the Hamptons,” he said, almost like he was making fun of me. But why would he do that when I was trying to save him? I decided I’d heard him wrong when he smiled.

“You’re one of our babies, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” I smiled back. It felt nice to be recognized for what I was, to have a couple of moments where being a vampire was no big deal. For a moment, I even missed Evernight Academy.

“Name’s Shepherd,” he said. “Have we got ten minutes, you think? I’d like to grab a couple things before running off.”

“Maybe. They won’t know where you are in the building, though they have ways of tracking—”

“We’ll be quick about it. Help a fellow out, would you?”

We rode the elevator to the ninth floor. The whole way up, I held my breath, sure that at any moment Raquel would call, or Black Cross hunters would be waiting for us. But we got there fine, and I hurried after Shepherd to his apartment. “You only have time to grab the basics,” I said. “Some clothes, some cash, whatever ID you’re using.”

“Believe me,” he said. “I understand the deadline.”

I walked into the apartment, ready to start helping him pack up anything—until I saw Charity.

She was sitting cross-legged on a white leather sofa, intently smoking a cigarette. Shepherd said, “Is she the right one? The one you thought you saw the other day?”

“Yes,” Charity said softly. “That’s her.

“Don’t run,” she said in the last half second before I was going to flee. “We have so much to talk about. And we can’t talk while we’re chasing you.”

As dangerous as it was to stay, I thought running might be worse. If I ran, Charity and her friend would come after me for sure; if I talked, there was every chance I’d be safe. Despite all the horrific things Charity had done, she’d never attempted to hurt me. So I stayed. “What are you doing in New York?” I demanded.

“My brother is missing. He went on one of Mrs. Bethany’s foolish errands. I suppose he’s trying to find you.”

I turned toward Shepherd, sick at my own foolishness. “I was trying to save you.”

“A word to the wise,” he said. “The enemy of your enemy isn’t necessarily your friend.”

I took stock of my surroundings. Charity’s apartment looked as though it had been very nice only a short time ago, but nobody had cleaned it in several days. The white shag rug was covered with footprints and cigarette butts and, on one corner, rusty smears of blood. A large TV hung on the wall but slightly askew, as if it had been knocked partly loose. A sickly-sweet smell hung in the air, and I realized that a human had died here not long ago. Charity had taken this apartment by force.

She wasn’t in much better shape than the apartment. Her pale golden curls didn’t seem to have been washed recently. Charity wore only a silky lavender slip with beige lace that might have been pretty when it was new and clean; now it was stained and threadbare, making it painfully obvious how youthful her body was. She had only been fourteen when she died.

Trying very hard to keep my voice steady, I said, “Balthazar’s okay. I can promise you that.”

“Are you sure? Very sure?” Charity leaped up from the sofa, her childlike face alight with hope. Even now that I knew how insane and vengeful she could be, something in me wanted to protect her—this wide-eyed, seemingly delicate girl who could look so afraid and alone.

But it was for Balthazar’s sake, not hers, that I spoke. “Yes. He was injured, but he’s healing. He’s in a safe place now. I saw him just two days ago, and I think he’ll be fine.”

“Two days ago.” Charity breathed out a sigh of purest relief, then held her face shockingly close to mine. At first I thought she was going to kiss me, which was weird enough, but then she inhaled so deeply that her whole body tensed. “Yes. You did. I can smell him on you still.”

“Okay.” Black Cross only gave us three minutes in the shower. I’d thought that was enough time to get clean, but now I felt self-conscious.

Charity’s hands closed over mine—not to threaten but to soothe. “Where is he?”

I shook my head. “If Balthazar wanted you to know where he was, he’d find you. Right now, when he’s weak—you need to leave him alone, Charity.”