Betrayals

“Going with you.”

“Oh.” I nodded, took a scalding gulp of coffee.

“Stupid asshole thinks he owes me,” Graves called in my ear.

“Peter would’ve left me behind, the bastard,” Shanks cheerfully yelled back. “That’s why he’s all the way over there. I beat him up this morning.”

I believed it.

One table freed up and was cleaned with incredible speed, just in time for a group of hard-faced boy wulfen, some of them with wet hair and damp clothes, to come trooping in. All of them looked young, from their early teens to mid-twenties, but you could tell the older ones. It was something subtle, how they moved, or how their eyes were calm instead of dancing with excitement. I couldn’t figure it out but I didn’t want to stare. Maybe if I had a pad of paper and a pencil I could do a few sketches and find out what it was.

For the first time in two weeks my hands itched to draw, a sudden fierce need. I rubbed my right-hand fingers against the coffee mug, trying to scratch out the sensation.

“They were on watch, running through the woods,” Graves yelled in my ear. “They’re on vacation from the Schola downstate. Nobody there even knows about you.”

My stomach closed itself like a fist, and Christophe appeared in the door to the kitchen. An odd almost- silence spread from the table ends nearest him, and Amelia appeared, leaning in and talking intently to him.

It was funny. Even the obviously adult wulfen looked just slightly older than the djamphir.

Nobody here looked a day over twenty-five, except for around the eyes a bit. I hadn’t realized how quickly I’d grown used to being surrounded by teenagers.

I would have wondered where the adults to handle this sort of thing were, but they were here. Just in young- looking bodies.

Christophe nodded, his blond-streaked hair falling carelessly into his eyes. Jewels of water clung to the strands and dewed his face. I dug in my bag and found the transcript, pushing my plate away.

The paper crinkled.

I couldn’t pull it out here. Jeez.

“Aren’t you going to eat more?” Graves almost elbowed me, glanced up to see what I was looking at.

“Full,” I said, but my voice wouldn’t work quite right. I had to clear my throat and try again. “I’m full.”

“Eat while you can.” Shanks shoveled in another heaping forkful. “Might not get a chance later.”

It was good advice, I’d heard Dad say it before. But my stomach had closed down, and I was full.

Christophe glanced across the room, saw me, and nodded slightly. His expression didn’t change. He said something else to Amelia, who pushed her hair out of her face and untied her apron.

Christophe vanished again, and Amelia started across the dining room for us, her forehead furrowed. I pushed my chair back and stood up, scooping up my boots and grabbing my bag. After a few startled seconds, Shanks and Graves did too.

I know that look on an adult’s face. It means it’s time to go.

CHAPTER 26

The car was long, lean, and dark blue, older than me but in excellent shape. Dad would’ve liked it, and I suppressed a desire to pop the hood, because a dark slight wulfen had just slammed it shut and turned on his heel, taking in all of us with a swift glance. His mouth turned down when he saw Christophe, but he covered it well.

“This is Corey. He’s our mechanic.” Amelia looked proud. “Anything he touches runs like a dream.”

The boy wulfen rolled his eyes. “Mom. Jeez.”

“It’s true,” she insisted, and she looked seven different flavors of proud. She hooked an arm over his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. He wriggled away after a few seconds and blushed. You could see he was secretly pleased.

My heart hurt. I took a deep breath and shoved the feeling away.

He wiped his calloused fingers with an oil-stained rag and indicated the car with a short, graceful gesture. “’74 Dodge Dart. She’s a good car. Old American heavy metal, run until the doors fall off. Just had a tune-up and an oil change, checked the lights and everything this morning. Fresh tabs, too. So everything’s good.”

“Very good. I can barely believe it’s the same vehicle.” Christophe nodded, examining the paint job like he wanted to find rust flakes in it. “We should get going. The longer we stay here, the more dangerous for you.”

Amelia shrugged. “The woods are set with traps and we have warning. Other than the Broken—” her mouth firmed up and her eyes turned cold, “nothing’s moved all night, and we’re well prepared should they find your trail.”

The Broken? “Ash? He’s here?” My heart leapt up into my throat and I pushed down the urge to find a safe place to hide. “Where?”

“He’s been following us.” Shanks folded his arms. “Cagey little bastard. Slips right through every net.”

“He saved my life.” I hitched my bag higher up on my shoulder. “Twice, even.”

“Nobody’s disputing that,” Christophe chimed in, darkly. “But it’s best not to keep him wandering around here. Let’s go, children. Keys?”

Corey tossed them over. “She accelerates well, and the brakes grab. Go easy on them.”

Christophe nodded, plucking the keys out of the air and glancing at me. “Good work. Dru, you’re in the front seat. You two—”

“Wait a second!” A blond streak crashed out of the rain outside the open garage door and almost plowed into Shanks, who stepped nimbly aside. It was Dibs, his backpack bouncing, shaking the water off in spatters. “Wait for me! I’m coming too!”

“No room.” Christophe stalked around the front of the car.

“I’m coming.” Dibs glared at him, then darted a quick little glance at me. “Tell him, Dru. I’m going with you. You need us.”

“Jesus, Dibs—” Shanks didn’t sound like he thought much of the notion.

Graves just looked at me. I raised an eyebrow; he shrugged and dug a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. His coat was freshly washed, and it looked like someone had ironed it, too. Wonders never ceased.

“We’re leaving.” Christophe opened the driver’s door. “Everyone in.”

“Please, Dru.” Dibs hopped from foot to foot. He looked as much like a bird as it was possible for a wulf to look. “Please.”

Why the hell was he asking me? But since he was, I was going to make the call. I didn’t have too many friends, and he’d sat beside me in the lunchroom. “Get in,” I told him. “You guys too.”

“Three wulfen in the backseat,” Christophe muttered. “What are you thinking?”

“He’s got medical training.” I hitched my bag up again. And he carried me halfway across the state. At least, I think he did. “He’s my friend.”

Graves gave me an indecipherable look, and Shanks laughed. I was getting kind of tired of boys treating me like I’d lost my mind. Dibs piled into the car and scooted into the middle of the backseat, where he sat and clutched his backpack protectively.

“Let’s go.” Irritation edged each word. Christophe dropped into the driver’s seat and a moment later the engine roused, purring loudly.

“Thank you very much.” I sounded really prim. “For everything.” I hope the vampires don’t find you.

Amelia’s grin broke out over her face like sunlight, her velvety brown eyes lighting up. Corey stepped back, his gaze running over the car like he wanted a few more hours to tinker with it.

“It is our honor,” Amelia said, and it was the weirdest thing, it sounded like she really meant it.

People don’t often say exactly what they really mean. “Go quickly, and be safe.”

I dropped into the front passenger seat. The car was a boat, and Christophe nosed it gently forward into the