As I strode to the driver's side, my fingers traced the smooth lines of the beat-up Volkswagen bug I had bought with what had been left over from selling The Bat. It ran most of the time. I got in, feeling how stiff the vinyl seats were from the cold. The temperatures had been dropping steadily now that the snow had stopped, and I was freezing.
"Please start…" I begged, then patted the steering wheel when it sputtered to life. "Tell me I can't come?" I whispered, turning to look behind me as I backed out with a tinny putt-putt of a sound. Okay, I didn't have a real license yet, but who was going to give me a ticket on the solstice? Scrooge?
Still riding the high, I putted down the street, lights on and scanning the sidewalk. I found him two blocks down. He was still running, but he was in the street now, probably after finding too many of our neighbors hadn't shoveled their walks. I rolled my window down and pulled up alongside of him. He glanced at me, then stopped with a look of ambivalence.
I grinned. "Sorry for ruining your farewell speech. I really liked it. You want a ride?"
"You can drive," he said, his eyes tracing the car's odd shape.
"Of course I can." It was cold, and I flicked the heat on. The almost-warm air shifted my hair, and I saw him look at the drifting strands, making me wonder what it would feel like if he ran his fingers through it.
He stood in the freezing night, not a puff of breath showing as he stood to look charming in his indecision. "It's powerfully difficult to run and not try to breathe at the same time," he finally said. "Do you know the streets to the east hills?"
I nodded, and my grin grew that much wider. His head down dejectedly, he came around the front, the lights flashing bright as they hit him. I stifled my smile when he fumbled for the latch, finally figuring it out and getting in. He settled himself as I accelerated slowly.
"You will stay in the carriage when we get there," he grumbled, stomping the snow from his boots, and I just smirked.
Yeah. Right.
Chapter 7
Faint on the cold air was the singing of Christmas carolers, obvious now that I'd turned the car off. My car door thumped shut, the sound muffed from the mounds of snow the plows had thrown up, and I breathed slowly, pulling the crisp night deep into me. Above, the stars looked especially sharp from the dry air. It had gotten cold, ice-cracking cold. The faint breeze seemed to go right through my coat. It was about four in the morning. Only Inderlanders and crazy humans were up this time of night, which was fine by me.
Pierce's door shut a moment behind mine, and I smiled at him over the car. He didn't smile back, his brow furrowed in an expression of coming nastiness. While he paced around to my side, i leaned against the cold metal and gazed at the house we had parked across from.
We were way up in the hills in the better parts of town where the well-to-do had lived ever since inclined-plane railways had made it easy to make it up the steep inclines. The house in question was older than that, making it remote and lonely in Pierce's time. It was a monster of a house, clearly added to and rebuilt along with the times, with multiple stories, turrets, and a wrap-around porch of smooth river rocks: old money, big trees, and a fantastic view of Cincinnati. Bright Christmas decorations were everywhere, flashing in an eerie silent display.
The sound of Pierce's shoes crunching on the frozen slush jolted me into motion, and I pushed off the car and headed to the wide porch.
"I would request you retire into the carriage and wait," he said from beside me.
I kept my eyes forward as we crossed the street. "It's called a car, and you can request all you want, but it's not going to happen."
We reached the shoveled sidewalk and Pierce grabbed my wrist. I jerked to a stop, startled at the strength he was using.
"Forgive me, Miss Rachel," he said, lips pressed thin and tight. "You're full of grit, but I simply will not be able to live with myself if harm comes to you because of me."
My own anger stirred. "Then it's a good thing you're not alive, huh."
Shaking his head, he started to tug me back to the car. "I'm sorry for using my advantage to force you. Truly I am."
Here comes the him-hoisting-me-over-his-shoulder bit, with me kicking and screaming as he locks me in my own car? Not going to happen. "Let go," I threatened as he pulled me a step. "I mean it, Pierce. Let go, or you're going to be in a world of hurt." But he didn't.
Glad now I didn't have on mittens, I yanked him to a stop, spun my wrist with a loop-de-loo motion into a modified acrobat twin-hold on his palm, stepped under his arm, and flipped him into a snowbank.
He hit it with a puff of snow, staring up at me in surprise. "Land sakes, how did you do that?" he stammered, eyes wide in the low street light.
I stood over him with my hands on my hips, utterly satisfied. "Try to lock me in the car again, and I'll show you."
Pierce started to get up, and I reached to help him. Making a grunt, he accepted, rising to brush the snow from his long coat with sharp, bothered motions.
"I'm going in there," I said, nodding at the house.
"Miss Rachel," he started, and I took a step forward, getting into his face.
"This is what I want to do with my life," I said. "I have a circle amulet. I'm not helpless. And you can't stop me."
Shifting on his feet, he started to look annoyed. "Rachel, I'm schooled for this."
"And you still ended up dead," I shot back.
"That's my very argument. A body can see it's too dangerous." I made a face, and he took both my hands in his, adding sincerely, "I know you're of a mind to help. You're a brave, courageous woman, but you mustn't kick. This vampire is several hundred years dead, and you are eighteen. Consider it logically."
I rather liked his fingers in mine, but I pulled away, not wanting him to make me into putty. Again. "Logically?" I said, starting to get cold. "Yes, let's look at this logically. Training or not, you don't have anything but a few trinkets to help you if you can't tap a line. You don't have a chance to rescue that girl without me, and you know it."
He hesitated, and I surged ahead at the worried slant to his eyes. "Tell me you don't need me," I said, pointing. "That being able to tap a line isn't going to make the difference between saving her or not. Tell me that."
Pierce's gaze went to our feet, then rose. "I can't," he said firmly.
"Then I'm coming with you."
Again I started for the door. Pierce walked a step behind, slow and ponderous. "Now I have to watch for you, too," I heard him mutter, but I didn't care. I was going.
I slowed to slip my hand into his. He started, and I tapped a line. Energy flowed coolly into me to make my hair start to float around the edges of my hat, and I gave his fingers a squeeze. "It's going to be all right," I said firmly, and I shivered when he pulled a thin trace of power into himself.
We were almost up to the wide porch with its stylized Christmas tree when I realized his intent was to storm the front. "Uh, shouldn't we go in the back door or something?" I asked, and he smiled.
"You've listened to too many adventure tales. They never expect the front door."
"Still," I said as he knocked briskly.
"The front door," he said, glancing askance at me and tugging his coat straight. "They undoubtedly have made note of our presence, and it looks foolish to be caught skulking behind the trash bins."
I jumped at the rattle of the doorknob. A surge of adrenaline, and my pulse quickened. I stood wide-eyed beside Pierce as the door opened to show Sarah, standing alone and beautiful in an elegant dress of old lace. Her face was pale, but her look of fear set one of my worries to rest. She hadn't been bitten and bound yet.