“At first, I was thrilled. I thought my new ability meant I’d become one of them, but on my own terms, without the ugliness.” She touched her hair. It had been combed but still lacked its usual luster. “Believe me, I checked my appearance frequently.
“I tried communicating back, but they didn’t pick up what I was saying. I assumed I just needed practice, but as I listened to them, I realized they’d never intended me to share their communication at all. They thought of me as . . .” She scowled, showing her fangs. “As some sort of lab rat.”
“They didn’t know you could hear them?”
“No. They communicated freely around me, and the more I learned, the more I realized how much they’d lied.”
“You said they lied about strengthening your power. What else?”
“Eternal life, for starters. They claimed to be immortal. But you proved that was a lie when you killed that Old One. You killed him.” Her eyes rounded and she shook her head, as though she still couldn’t believe it, even though she’d kicked the thing’s headless corpse. “Everything makes so much more sense, now that I know they can die.”
“Did you overhear anything about someone named Pryce?”
She shook her head. “It didn’t work like that. They didn’t use names. I had to keep my own mind very, very still and listen for . . . it sounded like whispers in an adjacent room. But they didn’t communicate in words so much as in images, symbols, understandings.”
“Not much room for Shakespeare in a language like that.”
“You’re right. The Old Ones would have no use for poetry. They have no use for anything besides their own power.” Her eyes clouded for a moment, then refocused on me. “But tell me what this Pryce is like. Maybe I’ll recognize something.”
“He’s a demi-demon, very old, from Wales.” Juliet looked blank; no bells ringing so far. “I killed his demon half, and he went catatonic. After he fell, his human shell disappeared, and I’m pretty sure the Old Ones snatched it.”
“Catatonic? There was someone they thought of as ‘the sleeper.’ They did take him. They wanted to use him as leverage against someone else, ‘the wizard.’ There was a lot of fear and hatred coloring their thoughts about this wizard, but they believed he’d help them because of the sleeper.”
This wizard was news to me. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know. By this time, you must understand, I’d run away. I was trying to stay a step ahead of them but also find out what they were planning. It was risky. As long as I only eavesdropped on their thoughts, I was fine. But if I saw one of them, even a glimpse, I’d be in their thrall again. Like I was last night.” Juliet picked up a partially full bottle of blood from her nightstand, then put it down again. “I recall there was some reason that contacting the wizard would be immensely difficult, but I never found out why. That’s all I know, I’m afraid.”
“That’s okay.” The next time I spoke with my aunt Mab, I’d ask her if she knew of any wizard associated with Pryce. She knew more about Pryce’s background than I did. I’d been too busy dodging his attempts to kill me to ask for his résumé.
Juliet yawned and stretched; the stretch ended in a wince.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Do you need to rest?”
“Soon. But I know you’re wondering what happened in Washington, so let me tell you that first.”
Good. I really wanted to hear Juliet’s side of that story— and share it with Kane. But after last night’s ordeal, I didn’t want to tax her.
“I was still an enthusiastic new recruit when the Old Ones started murmuring about Kane and his paranormal rights case. They didn’t like it.”
“Yeah, we figured that out. But why?”
“I thought it was because the Old Ones wanted to keep the old ways, with vampires living in the shadows and treating humans as mere prey. I thought they were offended by the very idea that vampires and humans could be equal. And I’ll admit those views appealed to me. Maybe it was because I was starting to feel my age, but I was nostalgic for the old days, before vampires came out into the open and found themselves subject to human-created laws.”
“But Kane’s trying to make that better, to give humans and paranormals equal standing under the law.”
“Perhaps. I can see he believes that. But at the time, I was offended by the very idea of a panel of nine blood-bag judges deciding my fate.”
My heart sank. “So you did try to help them frame Kane.”
“I provided them with information about where he was staying, where he was working. They took me to Washington with them because they thought I’d be useful there. As we traveled, I listened to their conversation. The Old Ones don’t want to keep the old ways—they’re sick of the old ways. They want to come out into the open, but not like other paranormals. They want to be gods.
“Their plan was to murder a prominent norm and blame it on a prominent monster, with the aim of fomenting an all-out human-paranormal war. A war would weed out all the weaker vampires and norms. When it was over, the Old Ones would come forward and take control. They’d select the best vampires and humans to serve as their food supply—like farm animals, really—and annihilate everyone else.
“ At the time, I still believed I was one of them. I wanted the power, yes, and the immortality. But not like that. What fun would it be reigning over a bunch of blank-faced vampires-inthrall and cowering norms? And when they communicated about Kane, about the irony of using him to start a war and how much they’d enjoy humiliating him, something inside me altered.”
“You wanted to protect Kane.” The exact opposite of what he assumed.
She looked away, as though the very idea embarrassed her. “I told you I was getting weaker with age. For whatever reason, for the first time I began to doubt the Old Ones. I found that sliver of will within me. By the time we arrived in Washington, I knew I had to stop them. When the Old Ones left me alone—they had no reason to think I’d betray them—I tried to phone Kane. He never answered, and I couldn’t exactly explain what was happening in a voice mail. I also tried to warn that woman they killed, Justice Frederickson. I stopped her on the street and told her she was a target. She laughed and said she’d add it to her collection of death threats.” Juliet shook her head, and I wondered whether her amazement was because she’d bothered to warn a norm about a vampire attack or because Frederickson had laughed at that warning. “It took a few days before the Old Ones realized I’d defied them. It was incomprehensible to them that one of their vampire servants could think for herself. When they began to suspect me, I had to run.”
“I know. I got your postcards.”
“Oh, the postcards.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Those were a ruse. I’ve been shadowing the Old Ones, first in Washington and then following them back to Boston. I’ve been here all along.”
“Wait, a ruse?” Irritation surged through me. “You were lying to me about where you were?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re far too . . . goody-goody to betray someone’s trust. Wait. That sounded like an insult, but I don’t mean it that way.” Her forehead puckered. “It’s been so long since I thought in those terms. Moral—maybe that’s what I mean. You’re too moral.”
“Thanks.” I loaded up the word with sarcasm, but Juliet didn’t seem to notice.
“I sent the postcards to let you know I was defying the Old Ones. But the ruse wasn’t to fool you. How many postcards did you receive?”