Reckoning

all I want to do when I wake up after almost-dying is find a commode.

He shook his head a little, a brief economical movement. “It can wait.”

Well, dammit, there went that escape. The chair’s front legs thudded down. I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees.

“Okay,” I began. “You’re too old for me. You’re scary. It’s creepy that you were so all over my mom and now you’re all over me. And you . . .” You watched my father go down that hall, I wanted to say. But all of a sudden, it didn’t seem right. Dad had shot him, if the vision was a true-seein and not just a really vivid nightmare. Visions were like that, they twisted together dream and reality, and Gran always warned me not to trust what couldn’t be verified.

But still.

I couldn’t punk out now. So I licked my lips nervously and plunged ahead. “You were there when my father died. Weren’t you.”

It wasn’t a question.

Christophe actually flinched. “If I could have saved him—”

“You probably would have.” I nodded, and he shut up. “Because you owed it to my mom. Right?”

A single nod.

“I couldn’t figure out if you wanted me so bad because you thought I could kill Sergej, or if it was me. Something really about me.”

That got to him. He flinched again, and I held up a hand. Wonder of wonders, he stayed quiet. But his jaw was clenched so tight he was fixing to shatter his teeth.

My imagination just works too damn well.

I had to continue now. I couldn’t just leave it like that. “But every time I’ve been really in trouble, you’ve been there. You probably tried to break me out of that Sooper-Sekrit Vampire Hideout all by your lonesome, didn’t you? That’s how he caught you.”

Another nod. He watched me like I was a snake getting ready to bite, and I was suddenly so tired.

Grown-up shit is hard.

“You told Dibs to hook up the transfusion. You didn’t care if it killed you. I needed blood, you were going to save me, it was that simple. Right?”

“Tak,” he breathed, then shook himself. “Yes. That simple. Dru.” Soft, like he was pleading.

“Christophe.” All the air ran out of me, I had to gasp it back in. “I get that you’re interested, okay? But I’m not . . . ready. For anything. With anyone. Okay? I don’t even know what I’m going to do tomorrow when I wake up.” Besides be grateful if nobody tries to take my head off or shoot me or drain my blood, that is. “I’ve got no damn clue at all. So, you can either be okay with that, or I can transfer to another Schola. I’ve talked to Bruce about it. He’ll have kittens, and Hiro will have penguins, and August will completely throw a fit, but I’ve made up my mind. It’s up to you.”

He absorbed this. Time ticked away, and the Schola woke up completely. A faint faraway murmur of voices as djamphir got ready—the younger ones for classes, the older students for patrol, the teachers and other older ones for citywide patrol, mission support, or class time.

It was comforting, hearing that murmur. Knowing what it was.

Kind of like I belonged. For once. Like I’d found a place to fit into, a key in a lock.

“Dru.” He leaned forward a little, toward me. “Is there . . . a chance? Any chance?”

I thought it over. He deserved an answer.

So did I. I just had to find one I could live with.

“I don’t know.” I pushed the chair back and stood up. “When I said I wasn’t ready, I meant it. Okay? Can you live with that?”

I almost said can you trust me, but that . . . it wouldn’t have been right. It just wouldn’t.

“Yes.” No hesitation. “I can wait. Until you know, kochana. One way.” A slight shrug, his shoulder lifting elegantly, even though he was filthy. “Or the other.”

“Really?” That’s . . . um, well. I hadn’t expected that. I’d expected a no. Or some waffling. A little prevarication.

This time he smiled. It was the smile he kept just for me, a soft, private expression. “Really. I know the value of patience, skowroneczko moja. It must be my age.”

Must be. “Well.” I rubbed my palms on my jeans. “Okay. I’ll let you get cleaned up, then. I . . . yeah.” Now I was floundering. I backed up a bit, bumping the chair, and he just sat there and looked at me, still smiling. I managed to turn around and head for the door.

Just before I got there, though, he spoke up again.

“Dru.” Very soft. “Thank you.”

Jesus. I just basically rejected you, right? “For what?”

“For . . . believing. In me.”

You know what that will do to a guy? I shook Graves’s voice away. “No problem,” I said over my shoulder. Found the doorknob with a shaking hand. “No problem at all, Chris. First one’s free.”

EPILOGUE

I sat on the wide white satin window seat as the last flush of dusk faded from the sky. Nat moved around, tidying everything up with no trouble even though the room was dark. Moving with a wulfen’s grace, glancing at me every now and again. Like she was worried.

I didn’t blame her. I’d be worried too.

I pulled my knees up and put my arms around them, breathing in the night. Full summer, only it wasn’t as close and humid up here as it was down South. I could smell the gardens, and the good scent of grass mowed on a hot day and recovering once soft darkness falls. I read somewhere once that plants only grow at night. I don’t know. Seems like they’d need that time for sleeping, too.

Like the rest of the daylight world.

I was thinking. About Graves, and Christophe. About Gran and Dad and Mom, and about gone and forever, and about coming back. About promises and shipwrecks and holding on, and how it hurt.

About being human, and what “human” even meant.

“You okay?” Nat finally asked. “You wanna be alone, or . . .?”

A while ago, I would’ve said yes, to save her some trouble. But now, I just told the truth. “No.” I put my chin on my knees. “No, I really don’t. Have a seat?”

She sank down opposite me. I guess she was searching for something to say. So I searched too. Found it, and plunged ahead before I could lose my nerve.

“So. Did Shanks ask you out yet?”

She laughed. Her eyes glittered blue for a moment. “What?”

My throat was full. “I mean, I’ve been away. I’m behind on gossip.” Treat me like a normal girl, please. If you can. This grown-up thing sucks. “Did he?”

And God bless her, but I guess she understood. “Kind of. We got milk shakes. It’s a start.”

“Guess so.” Another long, awkward silence. “Nat . . .”

“It’s okay, Dru. Really.” She scooched back a little and brought her legs up, crossing them tailor fashion. Settled in, nice and comfortable. “You’ve just got to decompress. Just take it easy tonight, sleep during the day, and tomorrow night you can go back to your regular round of tutors, sparring, and lunches.”

I groaned and she laughed again. A nameless tension I hadn’t even noticed eased, and my lungs could expand again. I stared out at the garden below my window. Footsteps passed by in the hall—a