My stomach tightens. I hold my breath, dreading what he might say.
“I’m so sorry I never told you, but I had to protect you. And, well, if we’re not there anymore . . .” He sighs, and static plays out of the speakers as he exhales. “It’s better that you know than be left in the dark. I hid something for you, Dawn. I hid it in the place I’ve always hidden things. I . . . I love you, Dawn. I only wanted to keep you safe. And no matter what, you will always be Dawn.”
I watch the tape spiral, the magnetic strip wind itself up, containing my parents’ words that were only meant to be heard if the worst happened. I listen, hoping that there’s more. But the tape grinds to a halt.
No, I think. It can’t be true. What Sin told me. It just can’t.
“Does that mean anything to you?” Victor asks.
I nod, unable to get the words out, already feeling the tears beginning to well up.
“Dawn . . .” Concern is deep in his voice.
“I have to think. What hiding place is he talking about?”
“You’re growing pale. Why won’t you tell me what’s happening?”
Because I don’t want to be what I am.
I look around my room, and it’s immediately obvious. I go over to the music box that used to house little presents from my father as I grew up: pieces of candy, tiny notes, maybe even a few quarters that I could put into my piggy bank and hear the clink clink as they fell. But how could there be anything else to it?
“This is where he always hid stuff for me,” I say, Victor joining me. “There’s a little hidden compartment, but the only things in it are things that I’ve hidden.”
I open it and listen to the music play, the tiny disc somewhere inside the woodwork, turning slowly and playing its song. I’ve always listened to it, but I’ve never really looked at the box itself, just what was inside. I turn it over, examine it from every angle. I tap the green felt bottom. It sounds off. Then I gauge its depth in relation to the rest of the box, and that’s when I realize:
“It’s a false bottom,” I say. “It can be lifted out. But how?”
I grab the tiny wooden divider that separates the box into two compartments and try to lift from there, but it doesn’t budge.
“Let me take a look at it.”
Victor puts his hand on the box, his fingers lightly touching key points. The music stops.
“Wind it up again,” he says.
I do so, and when I let go of the turn key, the music begins all over again. Victor closes his eyes and listens. It’s like he’s in another world, his vampiric senses picking up impossible things.
“There’s a note,” he says, “I can feel it. Whenever the music wheel hits that spot, it shifts something inside the box. I think it unlocks it.”
I wait in silence as Victor listens to the song again and again and again, like a fencer waiting for that right moment to strike. His fingers clench the felt divider and then . . . pop.
The false bottom detaches perfectly, and Victor sets it aside. In the box, a tiny strip of leather is wrapped around a bundle of documents, everything secured with a rubber band. I pull it out and close the box; the music stops.
“Dawn, do you know what this is?” Victor asks.
I’m afraid I do, but I’m not ready to face it yet.
“We really need to get going,” I say. “I can look at this later.”
“We can take the time now.”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
“When you’re ready, just let me know. You don’t have to face it alone.”
I simply nod.
First we have to pass through the gauntlet of Rachel and Jeff. Needless to say, both were caught off guard to see me walking out of my room with Victor holding my duffel bag. But considering what my life has encompassed during the past month, I’m a little past the scolding-for-bad-behavior phase.
“The balcony,” Rachel says, nodding, as though she just answered a question she’d asked herself about how Victor had gotten past her unnoticed. Then she quickly shifts into protective mode. “You’d better take good care of her.”
“I can assure you,” Victor says, “that if she comes to any harm, it will be because Faith, Richard, and I are all dead.”
Instead of comforting her, his words only make her narrow her eyes. “Don’t get dead.”
Victor grins. “Trust me. I’m not planning on it.”
Rachel embraces me tightly. “At least I get a hug instead of a note this time.”
I squeeze her hard. “This is lots better.”
When I release her, I clasp Jeff quickly. “Keep her out of trouble.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Then Victor and I are walking out of the apartment, and I can only hope that it won’t be too long before I’m back. We take the elevator down. I wave at the guard at the front door before we step outside. The car is waiting at the curb.
Victor opens the passenger door for me and I slide in. Faith and Richard are in the backseat. “Hey,” I say.
“I never understood that term as a greeting,” Faith says. “Isn’t that something they feed to horses?”
Her words barely connect with me. My fingers are lightly tapping the leatherette on my lap. Victor tosses my bag in the trunk before getting behind the wheel.
“Took you long enough,” Faith says. “What were you guys doing? Having a cup of tea before you left?”
With a sigh, Victor twists around in the seat. “Faith, don’t be a pain.”
She holds up a hand, palm out. “Excuse me, but I need to pack.”
“I’ll give you an extra five minutes.”
“Fifteen.”
“Done.”
Trying to distract myself, I glance over at Victor. “So vampire siblings squabble, too?”
He grins. “All the time.”
“But I’m the one who always wins,” Faith says.
“You think that because I make it appear that you’ve won.”
“I’d know if I won or not.”
Victor winks at me. “I was willing to give you a half hour to pack, Faith.”
“And I was willing to settle for ten.”
Laughing, Victor reaches across the console and takes my hand. “This could be a long trip.”
I force a smile before glancing out the window. I wish I could laugh with him, but I know what my father was trying to tell me.
My life, everything I’ve always believed, was built on a foundation of lies and I can feel it shifting beneath me, turning into dust, just as vampires become ash.
With my father’s secrets taunting me, the drive to Valentine Manor takes an eternity. But then it appears, a looming silhouette outlined by moonlight.
It’s huge. Looks like some sort of medieval castle. I used to hate coming here to meet with Lord Valentine, but now it’s Victor’s home and it doesn’t seem quite as foreboding. Victor stops the car just shy of the ancient front door.
Everyone climbs out. I can sense more than see the Lessers hovering about in the shadows.
“I’ll need to speak with my lieutenants and distribute the blood the Agency sent this afternoon,” Victor says.
The Agency always places the blood in a refrigerated unit at the back of the house, delivered during the day. It is safer that way. Or at least it was before Day Walkers.
We walk into the house, and the butler approaches. He’s the same one who always escorted me to Valentine. He’s tall, slender, with hair that drapes down to his shoulders. He bows slightly. “My lord, welcome home.”
“Eustace, was the blood delivered?” Victor asks.
“Yes, my lord. And your lieutenants are waiting in the dining hall for your commands.”