Betrayals

nosferatu; any less and we’re malformed things, not even human. Something about the gene pairs; I don’t claim to be a scientist. It was a joke. But feel free to use your little knife, kochana.”

I tried uncurling my fingers. He wouldn’t let me. We stood like that, him tugging forward and me pulling back, until he let go of my hand. Spread his palms against the wood behind my shoulders and leaned in. “Satisfied?”

My mouth opened. The knife dropped and dangled in my nerveless hand. I couldn’t find a damn thing to say. He waited, and the sound of water whispering away under half the boathouse’s floor, touching its rotting pilings, was a cold silken whisper.

I dropped my eyes. Looked at his throat. His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. When he spoke, it was the same business-like, mocking tone he’d used when I first met him.

“Now, let’s talk about something useful. Attacked? When? Tell me about that first. Then Anna.”

He plucked the note from my nerveless fingers, held it to his nose, and inhaled. But he didn’t step back, and the note vanished into his back pocket. Just like that, it was gone. “Ah. Dylan. Sneaky old man. This was our meeting place, once.”

“I—what? Jesus.” What was Dylan doing leaving notes on my pillow? But it solved one riddle.

Christophe leaned back toward me, his hands on either side of my shoulders again. “He’s reassuring me of his loyalty. Touching. As well as giving you a reason to slip your leash during the daytime, which I’m not so sure I like. Now start talking. When?”

I told him the whole thing, stealing little glances at his expression. It was a type of relief to spill it all out, like lancing an infection or popping a zit. It’s also kind of hard to talk with a djamphir staring you in the face. Especially when the aspect keeps flickering through him, and his canines are touching his lower lip, dimpling softly. His entire body tensed when I got to the part about Ash and the sucker. I was busy thinking of what I’d do if he got angry, could I dump him in the water and run for it?

My voice faltered when I got to Ash sniffing me. Just… sniffing me. After he’d torn a couple of suckers apart, suckers who said the Master wanted something.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the “Master” was Sergej. Or to figure out what he wanted with “the little bitch.”

“Master,” Christophe whispered. “You’re certain? Certain it was him?”

I nodded. He was so close it was hard to breathe. It was exactly like being next to an oven baking a really spicy apple pie. “He bit Graves, I’d know him anywhere—”

“Master,” he repeated, then grabbed my shoulders. I was confused, but then I found myself caught in a bear hug, his arms around me and his chin atop my head. He wasn’t as tall as Graves, but he was wiry-strong and very warm, burning through his clothes. “He must have killed them all, or Sergej would have sent more. It’s only a matter of time now.” It sounded like he was talking to himself, and I was frozen. I hadn’t been this close to anyone except Graves lately, and there was a weird feeling to it.

A weird, warm feeling. Warm all over, like being dipped in oil. It was kind of like Dad’s infrequent hugs when I’d done something really well. But there was something else to it. Dad hadn’t smelled like apple pie and he hadn’t hugged me so hard my bones creaked, and breathed into my hair. Christophe’s breath was a warm spot on my head, he’d tucked his chin to the side now, and his hands spread against my back. The locket, caught between us on my breastbone, was a hard lump of warning.

“Dear God.” His arms didn’t tighten, but he was still tense. I was trying to figure out what exactly the feeling was.

Then it hit me. It was safety. Christophe wasn’t about to let anyone hurt me. I don’t know when I’d started believing that rather than being afraid of him, but there it was. It was like I felt when I heard Dad’s truck rumbling into the driveway in a strange new house, coming back to get me. Like someone was going to Deal With Things, and I could relax a little and just go with it.

Like I knew my place in the world again.

We stood like that for a little while, Christophe and me. I breathed in the smell of apple pies and everything else fell away. The boathouse creaked a little in the thin sunlight, and I couldn’t see anything because my face was buried where his neck met his shoulder, my nose in the slight hollow just above his collarbone.

I didn’t mind as much as I thought I would.

“Listen to me,” he finally said, as if I’d been arguing with him. “Are you listening, little bird?”

My voice wouldn’t work right. I made a tiny little nod instead, because, how’s this for weird, I didn’t want him to let go of me. He’d pulled back a little, just with his lower half, and I was afraid the scorch in my cheeks would set fire to the rest of me, because I had an idea why.

Wow. Oh wow.

“I’ll take you to a safe entrance. Go back up to your room, don’t worry if someone sees you. At this point, it doesn’t matter. I have to ask you to wait, Dru. I’ll be gone for a day, perhaps as many as three or four; there are arrangements I must make for your escape. Will you trust me?”

You know, if he’d asked me this way the first time, serious instead of mocking, his voice almost breaking, I would have handed over my car keys. Or maybe I was just thinking that now, because he was so close and because he was shaking. We both were. The trembling spilled through me like wind through aspen leaves.

“Anna said you betrayed my mother. Told S-Sergej where to find—” The sentence died because he squeezed me, hard. I was almost afraid my bones would break. The breath huffed out of me, against his neck.

“I would never,” he snarled, “have done that. Never. Do you understand me? God and Hell both damn it, Dru. I couldn’t save her, but I’m going to save you. I swear it.”

And you know, I believed him.

What girl wouldn’t?

CHAPTER 15

Two hours later, I eased down the hall. I didn’t see anyone outside my room, but I felt them there. I made it in and locked, barred, bolted the door. And that, apparently, was that. Christophe told me not to worry about someone seeing me come back, it was getting out without being caught that was the problem.

It reminded me of Dad. Shaking a tail or pursuit was second nature, and it was better for someone to lose you on the way out to a meet so you didn’t compromise anyone else. I would have liked to be a fly on the wall when someone told Dylan I’d been spotted coming back to my room. It was amusing, in a grim, ironic sort of way.

Wait, Christophe had said. I’ll come back for you, as soon as I know … when I have a safe place for you. Will you trust me?

It was just like Dad leaving me a fifty and telling me to do my katas. But scalding flushes kept going through me whenever I thought of Christophe hugging me. I would turn hot, then cold, just like alternating tap water. It lasted all the way through the rest of the sunny day and into nightfall, and I almost didn’t hear the bell for wakeup. I was too busy trying to pin down where the hot and cold was coming from. My internal thermostat was way wack.

The lunchroom was a chaos of surf noise. Graves set his tray down. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh God.” I stared at my plate. Nothing on it looked even remotely appetizing. “What now?”

The cafeteria echoed around us, and he took a good look at my face. “Jesus. You’re pale.”

Tell nobody. Not even Dylan. But if there is another attack, try to find him. Don’t stay in your room. Here Christophe had smiled grimly, just a slight curve of lips. Or if you do, little bird, make certain you bar your door.

“Just… I don’t know.” Now it was time for a cold flash. I shivered. The entire place was too noisy and bright. Boys kept glancing at me, though once Graves sat down they went back to what they were doing. And only snuck