Jealousy

around for me.

I guess when you’re a kid you don’t think too much about that sort of stuff. It’s just there, like your birthmarks. Those were the rocks the world was built on, and they didn’t move. Not when I was little.

Now everything was shifting, and I couldn’t find a solid place to jump to.

Christophe’s shoulders were stiff-tense. He held himself like he expected a punch or two. “I don’t know if she told him. Her father was Kouroi, her mother pure human. But they created a miracle. She was fifteen when they were raided. Murdered. Sergej, again. We barely got there in time; she survived only by accident. She was brought in. It was a shock. Her father . . . he wanted her to know a normal life. I suppose he thought that living in the middle of a clear zone, it was a luxury he could afford.” A laugh like a mouthful of bitter ashes. “She wanted to be normal; she wanted to go home. Over and over she said as much. I thought she would eventually understand it was impossible.”

What could I say to that? I licked my dry lips. “She called you youngblood.” I guess I wanted to know. If it was real, or if I’d dreamed it.

He whirled and stared at me. The aspect slid over him like a cobra’s hood, danger radiating in every direction. His eyes burned, his hair slicking back and turning dark. But I felt a weird, curious comfort. I knew I was right, deep down. There’s nothing like feeling a little bit of certainty while the world’s jigging and jiving around you.

“Yes,” he said, finally. “It is . . . was . . . slang. Back then. She found it amusing.”

I took another gulp of banana latte. I so seriously needed caffeine if I was going to deal with this. Every bruise twinged a little, settled back into a low-level ache. “So, um. You really liked her.”

A shrug. His aspect retreated, the blond highlights slipping their fingers though his hair again. “She made certain I stayed here. In the light.”

If I need a reason now, Dru, it will have to be you. I knew I hadn’t dreamed that bit, especially the pressure of his lips against my own. That was right after he’d covered our escape from the other Schola. The burning one, where he’d dragged me out of the flames.

And Graves had argued the wulfen into coming back to gather both of us up.

I took a deep breath. “Do you have any idea how creepy that is, that you were in love with my mom and you’re so . . . all over me?” Maybe I should have put it a little more tactfully. But I was running out of all sorts of things, and tact is usually the first to go.

“I’m also too old for you.” His smile was wide, brilliant, and unsettling. And those blue eyes, set just so in his perfectly proportioned face, were hungry. “But give me some credit, little bird. Have I done anything to make you uncomfortable?”

I found out I was rubbing my left wrist against my jeans. I almost spilled the latte, I was shaking so hard. “Other than sucking my blood and being around every time vampires try to kill me? And scaring the royal blue fuck out of me? Other than that, well, I guess we’re peachy.” It felt like I needed to add more. “I trust you.” I guess. Even if you are moving me around like a chess piece. Funny, it was Graves who suggested that.

I really, really wanted to see Graves now. But how could I explain any of this? Where would I even start? He understood a lot, yeah. He was a really understanding guy. But this . . . it would be like telling Christophe that Graves and I were an item, kind of.

It struck me as a Very Bad Idea.

Christophe nodded slowly. “That’s more than I get from many of my so-called friends. Have I let you down so far, Dru?”

I thought about it. The first time I saw him was after I’d shot Ash in the face. Christophe had driven Ash away and told me to go home. Then he showed up at my front door, told me about the Order, brought groceries . . . got up on the hood of Dad’s truck and told Graves to drive, busted through a wall, and took on Sergej so I could escape. Not to mention pulled me out of the burning Schola and covered our retreat.

Put his arms around me in the boathouse. And later, in the darkness, kissed me on the lips and told me I was going to have to be his reason.

I flushed hot again at the memory.

And at least when Christophe was around I knew what to do. It was sort of like having Dad again. I mean, not really. Because Christophe wasn’t comforting in that way. It was just like, well, I knew my place in the world again. I was waiting for an adult to coach me on what to do up against the Real World.

I sat there thinking about it for a little while, and Christophe just stood there. Waiting. He didn’t poke or prod or anything; he was just letting me figure it out. I appreciated that.

But I would’ve appreciated it more if he was Graves.

“No,” I finally decided. “But I’m not believing you’re sticking around.”

“Do I at least I have a chance to prove it?” Still looking out the window. But his shoulders were still drawn up. Still expecting a punch.

I wondered about that. What must it be like to be him? To have everyone be afraid of you because of things you couldn’t change—where you were born, what you were made to do?

It was like the djamphir sneering at the wulfen. It wasn’t pretty and I hated it. And at least Graves had some sort of bond with the werwulfen to get by—he’d made friends almost right away. Christophe’s own kind were scared of him.

The least I could do was give him a chance. Especially since he’d always done what he said he would.

“I guess so.” It didn’t sound welcoming at all. Or happy. But it was all I had.

He slumped. “Good enough. Will you eat breakfast, then?”

“I suppose.” But thinking about how I met him brought up what I really wanted to do. “I want to see Ash. And I want to look for Graves.” Even though he’s probably two states away by now. I could have been even farther away, by now.

And yet. Come and find me. Did Graves really think I would?

Christophe nodded. “I expected as much. Will you tell me what happened yesterday?”

Weren’t you there? But then I realized what he was talking about.

Anna. Which brought up another thing. “What’s going to happen to you? What kind of Trial are we talking about?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He dismissed it with a wave of one hand, turning finally to look at me. The sunlight dimmed behind a cloud. “Everything is well in hand.”

No way. Jeez. “Anna really hates you.” Like she hates me. What did I ever do to her? Jesus.

“Fickle woman,” he muttered. “Look, Dru, this is temporary. Let me handle it, and then we can get down to the real business.”

Oh, so you’re going to “handle” it? A faraway, cool relief filled my numb chest. It’s about damn time someone handled something. I can’t do it all by myself. “Which is?”

“Training you. Making sure Sergej can’t get to you before you bloom, and after.”

Well, I was all over that. But still, it wasn’t comforting. “What’s the point? He’s just going to keep trying to kill me.”

Dad would have recognized the sarcasm and told me not to be fresh. Graves would have rolled his eyes and snorted.

Christophe’s smile wasn’t nice at all. He directed it at the floor, not at me. It was still cold enough to chill marrow. “You’ll notice he hasn’t come again himself. He’s frightened of you.”

I choked on a slurp of banana latte. “What?” He’s the king of the vampires, for God’s sake! Why the hell would he be afraid of me?

“You escaped him, Dru. You held him off until help arrived. You were lucky, true, but you held him off. Which was more than your mother or even Anna could do.” He was looking at me like I should have figured this out myself. “He’s sent Ash, and Ash hasn’t returned. He begged, borrowed, or stole a dreamstealer, and you still survived. He sent a Burner and has had the help of a traitor in the Order, and you are still alive.”

“Because of Graves. And you.” My chin lifted stubbornly. “It’s not me.”