It kept ending up with Anna. How could you hate someone so much? It didn’t even seem human.
Yeah. I liked sucking blood. How human was that?
I still felt okay when I got out of the shower and dried off, treating my body like it was a wild horse that might throw me at any moment. I felt morning-hungry, and I wanted coffee, but maybe not a banana latte. Most of all I wanted to make sure Ash and August were okay and get started on finding Graves. I didn’t know what I’d say to him because . . .
Christophe.
The memory of lightning went through me again. The healed-up fang marks on my wrist gave another heatless twinge. How would I explain that to Graves?
Did I even need to? Would he care? Would he be relieved?
If I left here, what would Christophe do?
I braided my hair. It felt like my hands were shaking, but they weren’t. My canvas bag was still sitting on the counter next to the pretty leaf-bowl of the sink. I scrounged a ponytail holder and thought about the roll of cash hidden in there. It was no big trick to get more. Dad taught me how.
I’d never done it alone before. But if I’d survived all this, maybe it would be no big deal.
I held onto the counter and breathed. In, out, steady. Careful. Until the weird nauseating pain in my middle went away. The skylight let in blind sunshine, touching my hair and face. It didn’t burn me or hurt my eyes. Sunlight was deadly to nosferatu. At least, nowadays.
I’d sucked blood, and the sun didn’t hurt me.
When I opened up the bathroom door, ducking through the strap of my bag and settling it against my hip, Christophe looked up from the window seat. The light fell over him again, making him into another kind of statue. He had one of the books in his hands, and his blue eyes took me in and warmed.
But he didn’t smile.
“Good morning.” He closed the book, laid it carefully aside. “The Council’s called a meeting. As soon as you’re ready, they want to see you.”
I swallowed hard. “What if I don’t want to? I want to see Ash and August and . . .” And I’m leaving.
I couldn’t say it to him.
“I checked the Broken and Augustine not half an hour ago. Augustine is awake and eating breakfast; the Broken is on the mend. Samuel says he’ll make it.”
I grabbed at the doorjamb. Searched Christophe’s face for any sign of a comfortable lie, found none. “Really? He’s sure?”
He nodded. Eased off the window seat and took a few steps toward me. “One hundred percent certain, he says. Benjamin and his crew are fine, too; you’ll see them at sundown.”
It was hard to tell if the weakness had come back, or if it was just relief so deep and wide I could drown in it. It took work to open my mouth and ask the more important question.
“Graves?” I croaked. Please. Please tell me he’s come back.
Christophe’s expression didn’t change. “The entire Schola Prima has been searched. He’s not here, and nobody saw him leave the grounds. I’m . . . sorry, Dru.” He even sounded sorry, though a flicker of something passed through his blue gaze. It was there and gone before I could figure out what it was.
Disappointment crashed through me. “What does the Council want?”
“I don’t know. Only that it’s important. And I can guess they are eager to make amends to you.”
Oh, yeah, I’ll bet. “What about you? You’re the one they put on Trial!”
“Some of them probably already suspected, though they could not move without proof. It’s of little account, Dru. You’re safe. Anna is on the run. Sergej’s bid to divide and conquer has failed.”
“Sergej.” I didn’t flinch when I said his name, though it did make my head hurt. “He . . . But Anna . . .”
“I suspect she thought she could control and manipulate him, too. They are both very, very good at that.” A shadow crossed his perfectly proportioned face. “Though he has somewhat more practice. Please, Dru. Come see the Council. Soothe their fears.”
Just who the hell is going to soothe mine? But I shrugged. “Okay.”
After all, he was the one I was trusting now. Right?
But I didn’t take my bag off, and he didn’t ask even though I saw him looking at it. I wasn’t sure how this thing with the Council was going to go. But I knew I wanted my cash and my emergency stuff with me.
Really, if no place was safe and I wanted to find Graves, why stay here? Why stay anywhere?
The only answer I could come up with to that question was heading across the room. He checked the hall, then nodded. I followed him.
The Schola Prima felt empty, but I knew better. I couldn’t tell who was watching as I followed Christophe through the halls.
He paused in front of the door with the carving of a leering face. “Dru . . .”
“What?” I put my hand down, away from my mother’s locket, with an effort.
“I just want you to know something.” He indicated the door with a brief sketch of a movement, but said nothing else.
“What?” I repeated nervously. The hall looked just the same as it always did. Velvet, old wood, marble busts. It really wasn’t the kind of place I belonged. I shifted my weight, and the funny idea that the bruises might change their mind and come back floated through my head for the twentieth time.
“Whatever happens in here, whatever they offer me, my loyalty is to you. Don’t doubt that.” His chin tipped down slightly, the aspect brushing over him, slicking his hair down and making his eyes glow.
I swallowed hard again. “That loyalty thing . . . isn’t that Anna’s thing?”
He cocked his head. “Loyalty’s all we have. The nosferatu have used us against each other many times. Anna isn’t the first to turn traitor. She won’t be the last, either.”
“That’s really comforting, Christophe.” I didn’t mean to sound snide. “Let’s get this over with. I want to look for Graves.”
He looked about to say something else, but visibly decided not to bother and pushed the door open. I wiped my sweating hands on my hoodie surreptitiously and hoped this wouldn’t take too long.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Four old djamphir standing to attention. The chair at the head of the table was empty. Alton, Ezra, Bruce, Hiro, all stood ranged in front of the table like a firing squad. There was no breakfast laid out this time.
Christophe closed the door. I folded my arms self-consciously, trying not to wonder if any of them had stolen a peek while my T-shirt was torn. My hair was behaving for once, but I was still glad I’d braided it back tightly and drenched it with conditioner to keep the frizzles down. Not that it was frizzing much lately, but habits die hard.
Bruce clasped his hands together. His face was set and white under his coloring, and it didn’t do him a lot of good. His eyes were burning coals. “Milady.”
Outside the sun was shining, and the birds were chirping. But in here there was no daylight. I shifted my weight uncomfortably. Kept my hands in fists so I wasn’t tempted to touch my mother’s locket. “What? I mean, what do you want?”
“I think this would go better if you sat down,” Hiro said gently. But I looked past him, and there was a dent of darkness on the table’s mellow polished shine.
My heart crawled up in my throat. “God.” I sounded half-strangled. “No. Oh, no.”
I shoved between Hiro and Alton and grabbed the black thing. It was a long black canvas trench coat. It would go all the way to my ankles, but it would hit him at midcalf. It smelled like cigarette smoke and healthy young male loup-garou.
It was torn all to pieces. Another piece of it was in my bag right now. I’d fished it out of my other jeans and stowed it carefully.