Hourglass

“Yeah,” he murmured into my hair. “That’s why I knew I could find you there.”

Understanding sank in. Sadly, I said, “This is a dream.”

“I’m not dreaming.” Lucas hugged me more tightly. “I won’t believe it.”

I was in Lucas’s dream. Raquel had told me about her ghost attacking her in her sleep; I should’ve realized the wraiths could travel into sleeping minds. So I could be with Lucas but only in his dreams? It was so little, and yet at least it was something to hold on to. “Every night,” I promised him. “Every night, I’ll be here for you.”

“It’s not enough. I need you. Don’t let this be a dream.”

The reality around us vanished in an instant. Once again, I seemed to float very near the ceiling, looking down at Lucas, whose eyes had just opened. He grimaced and rubbed his face with one hand. In some ways, he looked even more tired than he had that morning.

“Bianca? Are you there?” he said. I couldn’t answer him, but he understood anyway. “You’ll always be there, I guess. Just too far away to touch.”

Being with him in dreams would give me some comfort, I realized, but it would only torment Lucas. He wouldn’t be able to hold on to the experiences the same way I could. More than that, I wasn’t sure I could make him understand that our togetherness in dreams was real. If I visited him every night, all I would accomplish would be to make him grieve for me anew, over and over again.

Lucas rolled onto one side, punching the pillow beneath his head to provide more support. “I dreamed about you,” he said. “I was in a bookstore, and I was trying to find you—I don’t remember how—God, it’s already slipping away. But you were there. Your being dead was all some big mistake, and I could hold you again. Pretty great dream—until I woke up.”

With a sigh, he threw off the sheets and rose from the floor. He moved stiffly, and I realized he had to be sore. Just as he pulled a carton of juice from the minifridge, I heard footsteps outside. Lucas went to the door and opened it before Balthazar could even knock.

Instead of hello or how are you, Balthazar said, “You were right about Charity.”

“News flash: I already knew that.” The venom had gone out of Lucas’s jabs at Balthazar, but apparently that didn’t mean he was going to stop making them. “You find her?”

“I found someone who knows her. Which means Charity will be aware that I’m in Philadelphia soon, if she doesn’t already.”

“You just let the vampire run off to play messenger?” Lucas took a deep swig of juice straight from the carton. “Not smart.”

Balthazar scowled. “I don’t stake people the first second they could be trouble, which is one of the many differences between us.”

“I guess this means you’ve got to run, huh?”

“I don’t run from a fight,” Balthazar said. “And I’m not abandoning my sister to this kind of existence.”

“Nobody’s making her act like that,” Lucas said as he stowed the juice back in the fridge. “You ought to know that by now. Or did you know it the whole time?”

Balthazar didn’t answer that question. “If I can separate her from her tribe, Charity will come around.”

“What are you going to do? Just keep her locked in a room for a century until she agrees with you?”

“Yes.”

“Man, your relationship is really screwed up.”

“Do you have a better plan for dealing with her?” Balthazar demanded. “Staking is not an option.”

“Says you.” Lucas took a deep breath. “So you want my help on this kidnapping run?”

Balthazar clearly didn’t like having to turn to Lucas for help, but he nodded. “You can handle yourself in a fight. And Charity won’t expect the two of us to cooperate. We could use the element of surprise.”

“When?”

“She’ll make her move at sundown. So, a couple of hours.” Like all vampires, Balthazar could sense how far away sunset and sunrise were. “The sooner we get out there, the better.”

Lucas didn’t need to go after Charity tonight. Really, I wished he wouldn’t go after her ever. She was dangerous, and no matter how good a fighter Lucas was or how strong I’d made him by drinking his blood, Charity would always be stronger. With her tribe by her side, I didn’t see how he and Balthazar could prevail.

But most of the time, I would at least have confidence that Lucas could get through it alive. Now he was exhausted and in mourning. Balthazar, blinded by his own guilt or grief or both, was foolishly taking the two of them out on a suicide mission.

Did Lucas know that? Horror overcame me as I realized that, probably, he did.

I watched him throw on a flannel shirt and lace up his shoes. Dread gnawed at me. Did Lucas think that, if he died, we would be together again? Or was his life not worth anything to him anymore? It was worth something to me. I wanted him to live and be safe and happy for both of us.

Lucas looked like he didn’t care about any of that.

When he was almost done preparing, Lucas paused and went to the small drawer where I’d kept my things. His hand closed around the jet brooch he’d given me—it seemed like so long ago—and I could tell he was trying to take strength from it, the way I always had. Quickly he tucked it into the pocket of his shirt.

Oh, Balthazar, I could kill you for this. Please stop, guys, please.