“Hey, I think I’m going to take a walk around the town,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I want to wander around. Clear my mind.”

  “As you wish,” Lockwood said, and he turned the key in the ignition. The car rumbled to life. “If you aren’t opposed to it, I shall follow you at a short distance. Just in case you grow tired of walking.”

  Or in case vampires decided to do their thing. He didn’t need to say it. I got it anyway. And I wasn’t going to argue with him about it. He’d do it whether I wanted him to or not.

  When I lived in Onondoga Springs, I never walked around town just because. There was always a place to go, someone to see. I never wandered just to wander. But now that I was here, it felt like a shame to pass up the opportunity to refresh my memories of the little old town.

  And yet, very quickly, that sense of having returned home left me. The farther I walked, the more changes I noticed, stark even in their smallness. The cool air on my face may have felt familiar, but it wasn’t mine to enjoy anymore. The budding trees were a nice sight, but soon they would change right along with the seasons.

  The low mountains scraped across the sky in the distance, hills that I had once taken for granted. Florida’s sky seemed so big, so vast. It was as if you could walk right off the ground and be swallowed by its expanse. Here, the hills fought for control of the horizon.

  How was it that everything felt so different in such a short period of time? We had only been gone a few months, and it was as if the entire town had forgotten about us. Everyone seemed to have moved on. Our absence changed nothing.

  How insignificant was I? A green Camaro passed me by, one I knew by sight. Unlikely the driver recognized me though—and if he did, he didn’t look. I was, after all, just background.

  Maybe if things hadn’t ended the way they had, then my homecoming would have been happier.

  Maybe it wasn’t the town that had changed, but me.

  That made more sense, honestly. So many things had happened since moving to Florida.

  And here I was, still wrapped up in the same nonsense as I was down there, intermingled with all of the nastiness I had left behind me back here in town.

  I wondered if there ever would be a way out of this for me. Every time I reached a conclusion of some sort, another problem arose. Was facing Draven the true end to all of this? And if that was the case, then what hope did I have of living long enough to see it through?

  I sighed.

  I had never felt more alone, more isolated from everyone I cared about in my entire life.

  Up ahead on the sidewalk, a tall, thin girl was making her way toward one of the local nail salons. Her dark, wavy hair fluttered behind her as she walked, her nose in her cell phone.

  My heart skipped a beat. I recognized that hair!

  “Jacquelyn!” I called before I could stop myself—her name already tumbling out as I remembered out last phone call. She turned, gaze settling on me. A beat—then recognition dawned.

  Her jaw dropped. “Cassie?” She did not smile.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. So much for a warm welcome.

  “I did used to live here, you know,” I said.

  “Yeah, but … you were in Florida still when we talked the other day, weren’t you?”

  “I was, yeah,” I said. “I just got in yesterday.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Is that why you called to ask me about what was going on around town?”

  “Caught me,” I said, and then with a surge of horror, realized I shouldn’t have. Stupid Cassie. Wrong thing to say to the girl who got mixed up in all of your lying.

  She didn’t seem pleased either.

  I cleared my throat, looking around, trying to force conversation now I was committed to. “So … how was school today?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said, but then a nasty grin spread across her face. “Gary was wondering if I wanted to go to a little Italian place for dinner with him this weekend. He says it’s very romantic.”

  It was like she’d slid a barb under my skin.

  I pasted on a smile. “That’s great, Jackie. I really am happy for you.”

  “Look, Cassie, it was great running into you. Really.”

  And I was the liar here?

  “But I have things I have to get done today. Maybe we can grab some coffee or something before you head back to Florida.”

  Wow. Two lies in one shot. Maybe I’d rubbed off on her. Maybe it was too strong calling that a lie. But she didn’t mean it—that much was clear from her voice. It was just a way of extracting herself from the conversation as gracefully as possible. There was too much water under the bridge for us. The realization was like a smack across the face.

  My actions had consequences—and too much had happened for forgiveness.

  Shoving my hands in my pockets, I nodded and produced a lie of my own. “I’d like that, Jackie. I really would.” At least a half a lie. Because in spite of her acidic attitude toward me—I meant it. I honestly did.

  But … it was never going to happen.

  There was a blur of motion beside me, a rush of wind as something flew toward Jacquelyn.

  The stench of fresh blood followed right after it. A vampire, its hand wrapped around Jackie’s neck.

  Covered head to foot in the same black leather that Iona had worn to protect herself from the sun, the vampire’s masked face stared right at me over Jacquelyn’s shoulder. Not a sliver of his skin was showing.

  We should have been safe.

  How could this be happening?

  And then there was another, standing behind the first on the sidewalk, slowly stalking up the sidewalk, not making a sound as it went.

  Another appeared behind me, and a fourth on the other side of the street, a long, shining knife clutched in his hands.

  The Butcher.

  Jacquelyn tried to scream, but the vampire’s other hand had already closed over her lips.

  There was no doubt about it.

  Surrounded by vampires on a city street.

  My former best friend their hostage.

  I was in way over my head.

  Chapter 30

  There was no time to react. No time to run. No time to fight back.

  It was just me and Jacquelyn one moment, and then in the next second, they were there, cat-like and ready for battle. And unlike the parking lot fight at the hospital, this was a battle they would surely win.

  My veins flooded with ice. My heart slammed against my chest. The vampire behind me closed in, a low chuckle in his throat. I forced myself to think of Mill’s training. Focus. Remain calm.

  But how can someone remain calm when they are already terrified out of their mind? Snatching a stake out of my hair, I wheeled about—thrust, banking on the element of surprise— The stake bounced harmlessly off the vampire’s armor.

  Oh. That made sense. Armor under the motorcycle gear. Double protection from the sun. I stared, eyes wide and wild. Jacquelyn struggled, legs thrashing. Muffled grunts came from behind the hand clamped over her mouth. The Butcher meandered over, almost casual.

  His knife, cleaned of Iona’s blood and shining once more, glinted in the afternoon sun.

  I had nothing. No protection. No other weapons. Unless I was able to get them to take their armor off or find a weak point, there was nothing I could do.

  That was it. Standing in the middle of my hometown. This was where I was going to meet my end. Jacquelyn stared at me, bug-eyed.

  Expecting—hoping for—me to help.

  And I couldn’t.

  Then—the vampire in front of me crumpled with a sudden cry.

  Lockwood stood behind him. A silver-tipped stake in his hands was dark with vampire blood.

  Lockwood moved with the grace of a dancer past me, a look of grim determination that I had never seen etched on his face.

  The vampire behind the one clutching Jacquelyn stepped in front of Lockwood, as dark and fluid as a shadow.

  Lockwood moved in to strike, his movements so fast and accurate it was like a scorpion’s tail striking its prey. The Butcher surged for him—

  “Lockwood!” I gasped—

  But it was too late. Lockwood had been so invested in the other vampire that the Butcher had an opening. The blade sliced through the air, whistling as it went.

  I watched as it sank into Lockwood’s shoulder, like a hatchet into a log.

  “NO!”

  He teetered forward—blood spilled—

  My horror died in my throat.

  His blood was … silver?

  … What?

  Silver blood? Another scream, a yell of pain—and I realized it came from the Butcher. He doubled over, leg clutched tight, a thin stake jutting from between his fingers. I stared at it, utterly stupefied at this turn of events—

  And then I was swept up into the air, my feet leaving the ground, my ribs colliding soundly with bone.

  Lockwood had thrown me over his shoulder, and he was tearing down the street.

  “Lockwood, no!” I shouted, reaching back toward the vampires.

  “My friend! They have her!”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Cassandra,” he said, his breath coming in painful gasps.

  The Butcher was still struggling against the stake in his leg while the other two were holding onto Jacquelyn, who was doing everything she could to get away short of breaking her own back. She was still gagged by the one vampire’s hand—and being dragged backward—away.

  Her eyes were desperate, panicked—on me.

  This couldn’t be happening. Her eyebrows arched, as though she were about to cry something to me—

  And then in a blur they had vanished.

  Lockwood surged back to the car—opened the door—and set me inside, buckling me in.

  I let him. My entire body was frozen.

  Jacquelyn was gone. And once again—it was my fault.

  Chapter 31

  The drive to the house passed in a fog.

  Mill was there at the door to the basement when we got home, asking Lockwood all sorts of questions that I only half comprehended. He bent down and scooped me out of Lockwood’s arms. I didn’t even protest.

  Jacquelyn. My friend.

  Stupid best friend cliché —we met the first day of kindergarten. Her hair was long even back then, tied up in two pigtails with pink bows. She was standing in the corner of our room, looking around nervously. I’d walked over and told her that I liked the rainbow pony on her shirt. Her eyes had widened and she smiled at me.

  We played together every day after that.

  In second grade when the boys were teasing her about her crush on one of their friends, I stepped in and told them all that they were acting like a bunch of babies. When one of them, a big one, tried to challenge me, I pretended to cry and scream (lying already). When a teacher found us, the boys got in trouble and never bothered us again.

  My favorite memory was in eighth grade. We had been at the mall. Genesee was with us. We had gone to the candy store and purchased as much licorice and chocolate and sour candies as our little purses could hold before heading to the movie theater and watching the same movie three times in a row. It was all Jacquelyn had wanted for her birthday that year.

  I buried my head in my hands; the tears hadn’t stopped since I had realized what had happened.

  I had let her down. Not only had I betrayed my friendship with her, but I had allowed her to get taken by my enemies.

  “Cassie?”

  I looked up through my fingers, my vision blurred with tears, and saw Mill and Iona standing over me on the couch, looking down at me.

  Lockwood had found his way to one of the armchairs. He had draped it in one of the painting tarps we had used for Iona before sitting himself in it.

  What a guy. Keeping his silver blood off the upholstery while gravely wounded. Wonderful Lockwood. Kind-hearted. Ever thoughtful about others.

  He had a towel clamped to his injured shoulder, and though I couldn’t see it, the image of his blood, silver and stark, came rushing back to me. My confusion caused some of the fog to retreat. Eyebrows knitting, I asked, “Lockwood … what are you?”

  “Cassie, that isn’t really important right now—” Mill began.

  “Did you know he has silver blood?” I said, pointing over at him. “I mean, I figured that you weren’t human. At least, I wasn’t entirely sure—”

  “Cassie.” Iona had stepped over. “This really isn’t important right now.”

  I gaped at the two of them.

  “Why can’t anyone here … just treat me like an adult?” I asked. “Why do you just assume ‘oh, she’s a kid, she doesn’t need to know’?”

  “Because it doesn’t concern you,” Iona said.

  “It sort of does,” I said. “He’s been driving me all around kingdom come, and I’m just now confirming he isn’t a human?”

  “You haven’t had an issue with either of us not being human,” Mill said, gesturing between himself and Iona.

  “That’s not the same, nor is it the point,” I said. “Neither of you are claiming to be human. It’s a tacit lie, playing human when you’re not. Trust me. I know lies.”

  “Obviously,” Iona said. Lockwood flinched, as though I’d hit him.

  Shame filled my chest. “Oh…no, Lockwood, I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just—”

  “I understand, Miss Cassandra…” he said. But I saw the hurt in his eyes. The damage had been done. He had done so much for me since I had met him. Taken me so many places. Protected me. Gave me advice.

  Today, he’d saved my life.

  And how did I repay him?

  By calling him a liar and getting angry that he didn’t tell me everything about himself from the very beginning. Tears burned my eyes. I closed my eyes on them, teeth gritted, face downturned.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, but it came out as more of a croak than a whisper.

  “Is someone going to tell us what actually happened?” Iona said, her voice cracking like a whip.

  “If I may, Sir, Miss,” Lockwood said. “I think Miss Cassandra needs a few moments to catch her breath.”

  Another kindness I didn’t deserve.

  Oh, Lockwood … He recounted the day briefly, including our visit to Uncle Mike, the visit to town.

  When he explained the vampires arriving suddenly, surrounding me and Jacquelyn, Mill gritted his teeth, as if the news caused him real, physical pain.

  It ratcheted up when Lockwood added, “Our new friend was there, too.”

  “The Butcher?” Mill asked, his voice sharp.

  Lockwood nodded.

  “What happened?”

  “They surrounded the girls. One of them grabbed her friend, and I was only able to just grab Miss Cassandra away from them.”

  “At the expense of yourself,” Iona said, sending another wave of guilt crashing through me.

  Lockwood inclined his head.

  “I tried,” I said hotly. “My stake just bounced off their armor.”

  “Armor?” Mill asked.

  “A motorcycle suit like Iona’s—”

  Iona’s brow furrowed. “Couldn’t have been the same,” she said.

  “I know,” I said, shuddering. “It had plating beneath. Extra protection. And they were out at this time of day. Scary. Nowhere, and no time of the day is safe anymore.”

  Mill scratched his chin. “Draven must have some scientists on this,” he said. “New York seems like a pretty decent place to test it. The sun isn’t as strong or as high in the sky.”

  “But that’s bad news for the world if it works,” Iona said. “Like, really bad news.”

  “I understand,” Mill said. “My guess is that they still can’t stay out for very long. It was probably supposed to be more of a snatch and grab maneuver. They didn’t expect Lockwood to show up. Or that he was anything more than a driver, most likely.”

  “I mean, that sort of fully protective armor really isn’t possible, is it?” I asked nervously, hopefully.

  “I don’t know …” Mill said, shrugging.

  “Miss Cassandra, I am sorry that we didn’t help her. There was nothing I could do,” Lockwood said.

  “I know, Lockwood,” I said. “It was only because of you that I got away at all.”

  “Silver-tipped stake?” Mill asked.

  “Right into the Butcher’s calf,” Lockwood said. “Very fortunate that I had it. Ordinary wood couldn’t pierce that armor, as Miss Cassandra said.”

  “Do you think we can rescue her?” I asked.

  Mill and Iona exchanged a look that told me everything.

  My heart, my everything … I just sank. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  I sighed and sank back against the couch, feeling like the world was pressing in on me from all sides.

  “It’s all my fault,” I said quietly.

  Mill sat down on the couch beside me, putting his hand on my knee. My heart skipped a beat as I looked into his eyes.

  I could never actually decide what color they were. Normally when I was seeing him, it was dark and it didn’t matter. But under these brighter lights overhead that help trick your brain into thinking that you weren’t actually underground, I could see little flecks of silver and green in their smoky blue depths.

  “Cassie …” he said. “It is not your fault.”

  Iona clicked her tongue, looking away.

  “It isn’t,” Mill said. “How could you have known that the Butcher and his squad were capable of going out in the daylight like that?”

  “But if Jacquelyn hadn’t been there, she would have been safe. Or if she had walked away just a minute before …” I shook my head. “It’s because of me, and her connection to me that she was taken … so it is my fault.”

  “You don’t know that,” Iona said. “They’re attacking people randomly, and this town has … what, five people in it? The law of averages says she would have been coming up soon.”

 

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