Hourglass

I grabbed a plastic lighter from a nearby windowsill. “Lucas, what are you doing?”

“You didn’t get to this part of the training, huh?” He knotted the bandanna around the neck of the bottle and dipped the long end of the cloth into the vodka.

Shepherd slammed into the door. The chair rocked, and it clearly wouldn’t hold the door shut much longer. “Lucas, he’s here!”

“Good.” Lucas flicked the lighter. As Shepherd burst into the room, smiling evilly at us, Lucas set the rag on fire and tossed the bottle at Shepherd.

Alcohol is flammable—when the fire gets to the liquid—

Lucas tackled me to the ground just as the fireball exploded outward. I heard Shepherd scream, and possibly he was dying; fire was one of the few things that could kill a vampire. Before I could see what was happening, Lucas yelled, “Cover your head!”

I did. He got up and threw a chair through the window. Glass sprayed everywhere, and I could feel shards of it prickling into my scalp. Lucas then grabbed my hand.

“Let’s get out of here,” he cried. The fire behind us was blazing brightly now. Shepherd’s screaming had stopped. Either he had escaped or he was dead.

I leaped through the window, avoiding the jagged glass that still jutted out from the edges. To my relief, I saw the car the vampires had used to bring us here. It was parked only a couple dozen feet away, and nobody was inside. They’d come for it soon, which meant we had to take it first. It would speed our escape and slow their pursuit. We could actually get away.

The door wasn’t locked. I slid behind the driver’s seat as Lucas jumped in the passenger side. Breathing hard, he said, “Tell me they left the keys in this thing.”

“They didn’t,” I said as I fumbled with the wires beneath the dashboard. “Good thing I got through some parts of the training.”

Black Cross taught everyone how to hot-wire an old-fashioned car. They said you’d never know when you needed to get away in a hurry. Well, they were right about that.

The wires sparked, and the engine rumbled to life. I put the car in drive and stamped down on the gas. We spun out of the parking lot, back into safety and freedom.

Thanks to Black Cross, I thought. And thanks to the wraith. My life couldn’t get any stranger.

When I started to laugh, Lucas glanced at me in concern. Probably I sounded a little hysterical. “Bianca, take it easy, okay? We made it. Don’t freak out.”

I simply focused on the road and muttered, “Happy birthday to me.”

Chapter Eighteen

“WE SHOULD DUMP THE CAR,” I SAID.

“Slow down, okay?” Lucas kept his hands braced against the dashboard, like he was scared I was going to steer us into a ditch at any second. He might not have been wrong. I’d gotten an A in driver’s ed, but between not knowing where I was going and shaking from adrenaline, I wasn’t really in control of the vehicle.

“I don’t think the vampires can track this thing. We’ll park it in back where it can’t be seen from the street. For now we need to get home as fast as possible.”

“This isn’t the vampires’ car! You know they stole this. Which means if we’re found with it, the police will think we stole it.”

“We won’t be found with it if you just slow down and stop driving like a crazy person.” Lucas put a hand on my shoulder.

“Deep breaths. Come on. Oh, hey—turn left here.”

I turned left and realized I recognized this street from one of the bus routes; we were getting closer to Vic’s neighborhood and our temporary home. That helped me calm myself a little bit. We’d have to get rid of the car eventually, but for now, we were all right.

We drove to the end of Vic’s driveway and across that perfect lawn. I hoped the tires wouldn’t gouge too deeply into the soil. Once the car was more or less hidden behind the house, we stopped.

Somehow it felt strange, walking back inside the dark, quiet wine cellar. It hadn’t changed in any way, but I felt that I had. I stepped out of my sandals and unfastened my hair with trembling hands.

Lucas put his hands against the wall and bowed his head, as if he lacked the strength to go any farther. His wrists were still red from the duct tape that had bound them. The silhouette of his broad shoulders made me shiver.

I looked down at my own wrists, at the delicate bracelet Lucas had given me. A present for my birthday—a happy symbol of a day that seemed to have taken place a lifetime ago, not only a few hours in the past.

“Charity’s not going to stop looking for you,” he said. “She’s obsessed now. She’s decided you’re the barrier between her and Balthazar.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I whispered.

“Bianca, we can’t stay in Philadelphia. We’ll have to go farther away. Where, I don’t know—”

“It doesn’t matter tonight,” I repeated.

Lucas turned to argue with me, but then our eyes met and he fell silent. I lay one hand on his chest, so that I could feel the rise and fall of his breath and the beating of his heart.

We’re alive, I thought. This is what it means to be alive.

“Bianca—”

“Shhh.”

I traced his lips, the strong column of his neck, the swell of his Adam’s apple. I could feel his breath against my fingers, coming faster as I touched him. Still he was too far away. My hands shook as I pulled his T-shirt over his head. Then I could wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head against his chest. I could hear his pulse rushing against my ear, the way the sea does in a shell. It wasn’t enough.