“We will find productive things to do,” Lockwood said. “We won’t waste the day. I know that’s what you are concerned about.”

  “Lockwood, you didn’t have to do this,” I said, stabbing some more eggs with my fork. “It’s delicious, don’t get me wrong.”

  He turned, drying the pan with a dishtowel he must have found in a drawer, smiling. “I’m glad you like it. Sometimes there’s nothing better for the spirit than a meal.”

  The morning light was starting to flicker through the swaying tree branches. I watched as it sparkled, the leaves dancing in the breeze. I was glad to be back here, instead of Florida, where the humidity alone was suffocating.

  And even though it meant no further progress with the vampire problem here in New York, it was hard to deny that I was kind of grateful for twelve hours or so without vampires. Without grunting from Mill or prying questions from an increasingly salty Iona.

  It meant I could pretend my life was almost normal … and also not get treated like a kid.

  “Yikes,” Gen said, glancing at her watch. “I gotta get home. Been out all night. School. You know.”

  I could still sense the tension between us as she rose from the table, walking her plate to the sink. Lockwood took it from her and began scrubbing it clean.

  She gave me an impressed raise of her eyebrows.

  A flicker of relief. Maybe things weren’t totally ruined between us.

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” I said, also getting up.

  We stood there awkwardly, looking everywhere but at each other. I decided on my sneakers.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” I said. “Iona is a little … impulsive.” What I had wanted to say was Iona is insane, and if you haven’t realized that by now, then you weren’t paying attention, but I didn’t think that would be the best way to earn her friendship back.

  Gen shrugged. “After everything I saw last night … I guess I can kind of get it.”

  “I never meant for you to get involved in any of this,” I said, grateful she was actually listening to me. “And I’m sorry we kept you out all night. You’ll fall asleep in Ms. Carpenter’s class for sure.”

  “I would have anyway,” Gen said, chuckling under her breath. “And I guess I’m going to have to explain where this goose egg on my head came from.” She reached up to gingerly touch the swollen bump there. Another shrug. “Oh well. I’ll come up with something.” Her eyes flashed. “I’ll channel my inner Cassie.”

  I didn’t flinch, but that stung. “You aren’t going to say anything to your folks, right? About what really happened here?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’ll just tell them we got caught up talking about everything, and we passed out on the couch like we used to. That was the truth enough times, they’ll believe me.”

  I nodded. “Yeah … okay.”

  “I’ll see you later,” she said, pulling the door open.

  The cool morning air rushed in, mingled with the smell of pine and earth.

  “Cassie?” she asked, after stepping onto the porch.

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful, okay? Don’t get yourself hurt.”

  I smiled. “I won’t. I promise.”

  Gen’s face fell. “And don’t make promises that you can’t keep. That’s just another form of lying.”

  With that, she turned and started off back down the driveway.

  Lockwood was waiting for me as I closed the door. Still wearing his apron, he had a hot cup of tea in his hands. He pressed it into mine.

  “She’ll come around, Miss Cassandra,” he said. “Just give her some time to process it all.”

  “That probably would have been easier if Iona hadn’t nearly killed her.”

  “The friendship you have with her is a strong one,” Lockwood said with that same smile. “The sort of friendship that is unaffected by miles or years. Something like this, while incredibly difficult to accept and believe, is just going to make you stronger together.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I said.

  He patted my shoulder. “You should take this opportunity to rest.”

  “Yeah,” I said, but even as I did, I knew that even if I were to lie down, sleep would not come. “I’ll try.”

  I took a hot shower and forced myself to think of nothing aside from getting my hair clean. Mill had packed mini shampoo bottles, the little ones they had in hotel rooms, in addition to the clothes and dental hygiene stuff. I scrubbed and scrubbed, my already raw hands suffering under the hot water.

  Once I was done, I threw on the most comfortable clothes that Mill had packed for me and crawled into the bed in my room.

  The blinds were closed, the curtains pulled shut, but it didn’t matter. My body knew it was daytime, and my internal alarm was telling me it was time to get up for school. Gen was probably getting ready right now—or trying to. With six siblings, she usually had a fight on her hands to get into the bathroom in the mornings.

  Xandra, all the way back in Florida, was probably getting ready, too. As happy as I was with having her as a friend, I suddenly realized how little I knew about her in comparison to Gen. Xandra and I might have bonded over vampires, but that wasn’t the same as having been friends with Genesee for fifteen years.

  When had everything become so complicated?

  I had thought I’d never see this bedroom again—and despite my pining for home, I had been okay with it. The last few nights I had spent in this room before moving were some of the worst in my life. I had either been screaming at Mom and Dad, or they had been yelling at each other. No matter how many pillows I had piled over my head, no matter how loud the music was blaring out of my headphones, I couldn’t drown out the sounds of their voices. But even worse were the long, uneasy periods of silence where no one dared speak at all.

  Or the silence. Whichever was hanging in the air at the time. The silence was worse than the screaming.

  I rolled over away from the window, clamping my eyes shut.

  Sleep, Cassie, sleep. But all I could think about was how much pain I’d caused them, both Mom and Dad—in the lead-up to moving, and then again, with all this vampire business in Tampa. We’d moved, tried to turn over a new leaf—but I was still the same old Cassie. They were probably going out of their minds right this minute, in fact, working with police to figure out where I’d gone.

  I punched the mattress. Things shouldn’t be like this.

  This was all Byron’s fault.

  This room that had once been my sanctuary had become my jail cell during the last days of my time here. And how was it any different now? I didn’t want to leave it, didn’t want to have to face my parents back then. Didn’t think I could handle it. Didn’t really want to handle it.

  I couldn’t run from the past. All of the lies that had come to the surface had just as strong of a grip on me now as they had back then. It didn’t matter that Mom and Dad were so far away. Their presence still lingered here in the house, all of that unhappiness, that sorrow once it all blew up. It clung to the walls like a stain.

  I sat up and yanked open the curtains. Dawn was breaking, bathing the world outside in a beauty that was just out of my reach.

  There was nowhere I could go, nowhere I could hide. My life was spiraling out of control—again—and it was like I could only sit here and watch it happen.

  I got to my feet, knowing that staying in bed was only going to make things worse for me. My mind was my own worst enemy, and in order to combat it, I needed to ignore it. It was just after seven. Visiting hours would be starting at the hospital soon. Maybe Lockwood would be willing to swing through my favorite coffee place on our way there. Uncle Mike loved Americanos. In spite of his worries about caffeine clashing with his meds, it might cheer him up if I brought him one.

  I found Lockwood in the kitchen still, putting away all of our dishes from breakfast. Last night’s clothes were washed, dried, and now sat in three neat, folded piles on the table: mine, Mill’s, Iona’s.

  “Lockwood, you should really get some rest,” I said.

  He just smiled at me. “I don’t really sleep all that much.”

  Strange. He had been the one to drive us the entire way up here, and now gone through another entire night without sleep?

  Who was Lockwood? Really?

  “Can’t sleep either?” he asked, folding Mill’s jacket on top of his clothes pile.

  I shook my head. “No. But I was wondering—could you take me to the hospital? Unless you want to stay here with them. I could take the car. I’ll be back before dinner.”

  Lockwood smiled in a way that reminded me of my dad. “That’s quite all right. Master Mill and Miss Iona will be just fine here. Besides, it wouldn’t be safe for you to go out alone.”

  Figures.

  As we stepped out of the house and into the garage, I cast a look over my shoulder at the interior of the house before sliding into the front seat of the car.

  So many memories.

  All tainted by the last days here, when my lies blew up … and ruined everything in my life.

  They still were.

  If I never came back to this house again, I would be the happiest person in the world.

  Chapter 28

  It was a little easier to walk in the front doors of the hospital when I knew that I wasn’t going to be waylaid by some crazy vampire assassin. Still, the chemical, sanitized smell of it wasn’t any more appealing than last night.

  What an awful place for a person to spend their last hours or days.

  And what a morbid thought that was.

  Still, I had two cups of steaming hot coffee clutched in my hand; Uncle Mike’s Americano, and my French vanilla latte. The warmth from the cups seemed to seep into my bones. For a second, it would have been easy to believe that things were sort of normal for a second.

  Sunlight always made vampires less scary than they actually were.

  I rapped on the door to his room with the back of my knuckles, careful not to slosh hot coffee all over my hand.

  “I’m decent,” Uncle Mike called. I let myself in to a room that seemed starkly different from less than twelve hours ago. Bright light spilled in through the window, shining across pale, cheery blue walls.

  “Hey, kiddo,” he said from the bed, with a smile—only it was much more reserved than the smile he’d given me last night.

  Alarm bells rung.

  I pushed them aside for now.

  “I brought you some coffee,” I said, passing him the cup. “Americano, just how you like them.”

  “Thanks,” he said, but he didn’t move to drink it. He just held it between his hands for a few seconds before setting it on the food tray beside his bed. Something was definitely wrong—no denying it, and no ignoring it either. I had to face it head on. “Okay,” I said. “What is it?”

  His jaw clenched, and then he looked up at me, his hazel eyes guarded.

  “Cass, there’s something that we need to talk about.”

  My stomach plummeted to the floor.

  “Is it something to do with the attack?” I asked, almost hopeful that it would be.

  He shook his head. “No, no … I’m fine. I’ll be able to go home in a day or so.”

  I exhaled sharply. Okay, good.

  “Your mom called me last night, Cass. Right after you left.”

  Damn. Even braced as I was for bad news, my stomach dropped.

  It was a no brainer that they would have figured out where I was eventually. My entire life, pre-Tampa, was here. All my friends, the rest of our family. Everyone. Everything. Of course she would check here.

  “I covered for you,” he said, quietly. “But it sucks that I had to lie to my sister.” He just shook his head, not looking at me. “What were you thinking, Cass? And how did you get up here in the first place?”

  “Some friends of mine got me here,” I said.

  “Friends, huh?” Uncle Mike asked. “Not school friends, I’m guessing, because your mom said your bestie down there was pleading ignorance.” Now he stared me down, unblinking. It wasn’t anger in his eyes; that would have been easy.

  It was disappointment. Brutal, choking disappointment.

  From Uncle Mike. The only person who … when everything blew up …

  Hadn’t treated me any differently.

  “What if something had happened to you?” he asked softly. “What if you had gotten hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, my cheeks burning.

  “Cassie,” he just shook his head, “I don’t know what’s going on with you. I figured after everything that happened maybe you could use one adult in your corner. That I … I didn’t have to land on you like a bomb the way your parents did.” He looked away again. “But maybe I should have. You cut out of school and came halfway across the country without even telling your parents where you went. But your mom knows now.”

  My breath hitched. She knew?

  My coffee cup, forgotten in my hand, trembled.

  “How?” I asked.

  “They didn’t activate the alarm at your house,” Mike said, his gaze finding me again across the short distance between us, “but your mom gets an alert whenever someone opens the doors. She got one yesterday. Then another. And there were no showings scheduled with rental company, so …”

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

  “I hoped they were right when they decided to move,” Uncle Mike said, shaking his head. “That maybe you really just did need a fresh start. But … I guess it didn’t take, huh?”

  A wild impulse to just spill everything almost overtook me. But I clamped down on it. It would be just the same as with Gen last night; I’d look like my penchant for lying knew no bounds. And without Mill or Iona here to prove anything …

  “Your mom isn’t stupid, you know,” Uncle Mike went on. “We were all kids once too. We did dumb things. Maybe not quite to the level of going cross country as runaways, but … I’ve made my fair share of rash decisions. Done dumb things as a kid. And an adult.”

  I let out a low, hollow laugh. Kids, huh? What I wouldn’t give to be the teenager who snuck out to drink beer and make out with her boyfriend and then get caught for it. Oh, how much easier my life would be.

  “I’m serious,” he said, voice hard. “You can’t keep doing whatever you want to, whenever you want to. Your choices affect other people, especially your parents. When are you going to realize that you have to start taking responsibility for your actions?”

  I had heard these words a hundred times before, but never from Uncle Mike. From Mom, Dad, even Aunt Becky and Uncle Carl. But never Uncle Mike.

  “Ugh,” he said, making a face like he’d taken a bite of something terrible. “Did you hear what I just said? Me? I said that. Yuck. I’m supposed to be the cool uncle, and now I’m talking to you like …” He hung his head, the picture of revulsion.

  “Uncle Mike, I came up here to see you,” I said. “To make sure you were okay.”

  He rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his eyes at me!

  “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Cassie,” he said, and there was that disappointment again.

  “But I—”

  “Just … stop,” he said, and there was such sadness in his voice, in his eyes. “Please … stop lying to me.”

  His words stung.

  Worse than getting physically assaulted by a vampire.

  Worse than Mom’s grounding.

  Worse than running for my life from Byron that first night.

  I tried to blink away the tears that were starting to pool in my eyes. I was not going to cry. None of them understood anything. They just assumed that I was this bad kid who was bent on being selfish and stupid.

  I had heard condemnation so many times that I should have gotten the word LIAR tattooed on my forehead for the whole world to see. Wear it like a badge of shame.

  But the crushing feeling that came over my heart, breaking it clean in two, was that his tone told me that all this time, while I thought he was the only one to see the best in me, he really had seen me for what I was—and had been too kind to call me on it.

  I swallowed hard, unable to look at him.

  There was nothing I could say—no words I could give that would make this better.

  I got up from the bed, shuffled over to the door, and tossed my untouched latte straight into the trash can before walking out into the hall.

  I kept my tears at bay until I was safely back in the parking lot.

  Chapter 29

  It wasn’t until I was sitting in the car sobbing my eyes out that I realized how wonderful Lockwood really was.

  He didn’t ask me what had happened, didn’t press me for information. He just passed me a box of aloe-scented tissues, along with bar of chocolate. I blubbered my thanks, and Lockwood patiently drove around town until I had calmed down.

  Then he offered to take me out to lunch. I declined, at first, out of politeness. But he insisted, said eating might make me feel better—so eventually I directed us to a local diner called the Blue Oak Café.

  Spending time with Lockwood alone was odd for just how normal it was. He ordered food like a normal person. Ate a cheeseburger like a normal person. And asked me just often enough if I was doing all right like a normal person. Never once did he ask about my uncle. And I was grateful for it.

  We left the diner, and the next thing I remembered I was waking up in the back of the Mercedes, slumped against the window.

  “What happened?” I asked, sitting up and staring at the clock. It was a little after two in the afternoon.

  “You fell asleep as I was driving,” Lockwood said, setting aside his newspaper. “I knew you were exhausted. I assumed it would be best to let you rest.”

  Geez. I hadn’t done that since I was a kid.

  “Well … thanks,” I said.

  I looked out of the window. We were parked at the library. I knew everything here far better than I did anything in Florida—as a matter of fact, where was the local library in Tampa? Onondoga Springs might be run down, the streets damaged by snow and covered in potholes, but it was hard to deny how homey it felt in the daylight. Yes, at night, when a vampire attack might lie just around the corner, it felt wrong … but with the sun shining, my life not endangered, this place was just right.

 

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