Lothaire

I am not.”

Hag strode in then, clad in conservative Dacian garb—stained with hot-pink and neon-green potions. “We need to talk, Lothaire.” She’d told him she’d address him as sire as soon as he called her Balery.

Or when hell froze over.

“What is it, Hag?”

“I don’t know what, exactly when, or how—but the first threat to your kingdom looms . . . soon.”

56

“Where am I gonna go?” Ellie asked Nïx as she scratched at her new bandage. She and the Valkyrie, who seemed lucid today, stood on the front porch of Val Hall, waiting for the sun to set.

Though most of the coven had wanted Ellie to stay, Cara had put it simply: “She lingers; she dies.”

Despite being penniless, with only a single change of clothes, a hoodie, and a quart of blood packed in a grocery bag, she would heed Cara’s decree.

“It was never supposed to go like this,” Ellie told the soothsayer. “How will I feed myself or protect myself from the sun? How do I make a living?”

Nïx’s palms flew to her cheeks. “I meant to teach you how to join the typing pool!”

“I’m serious, Valkyrie! I can’t exactly use my degree to get a job. I don’t even have an identity I can use. Hey, maybe I can go to New Orleans, get a job in a Lore shop somewhere?”

“I suppose this would be a bad time to tell you that many beings will kill you on sight just for being a vampire. Werewolves, Furies, berserkers, and witches would try to do you in before they ever got around to figuring out who you are and why they should fear you. I’ve been sending out memos, but these things take time.”

“Why would Lothaire cast me off like this? ‘Rot in hell?’ What was that?”

“I know, right! Over one near decapitation? Unfortunately, he’s still stewing—could stew for decades. Time doesn’t mean the same thing to the very old. Think of it this way: Lothaire has lived so long that three weeks would feel like scant hours. His internal clock is telling him he’s been away from you for an afternoon.”

“So I should just wait for him to see reason? After that package, why would I want to be with the unbalanced undead?”

“Well, don’t forget that he came to me for help to save you. Considering that he loathes me—thinks I betrayed him—this was huge.”

“Did you betray him?”

“Yes. Often.” She shrugged. “Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.”

“I don’t follow—”

Nïx shoved her into the front yard, into the light of a blazing afternoon sun. “Flap your wings, little butterfly!”

Ellie traced back in; the wraiths tossed her back out. She hunched and hissed, but her skin . . . wasn’t burning.

“What is this, Valkyrie?” She stared at her unmarked arms. “How is this possible?”

“Did you hear Lothaire when he made his wish to turn you?”

Ellie shook her head slowly.

“He’s exceedingly bright. Surely he would have phrased his wish to, say, ‘make Elizabeth a vampire with all their strengths and none of their weaknesses.’ ”

Lothaire had told her he had a surprise for her. He had listened to her when she’d told him how much she would miss the sun.

And he’d given her a gift no other man could.

All the sunrises for eternity.

Unfortunately, she’d all but beheaded him before he could present his offering to her.

She raised her face to the light, still in disbelief. I’m truly free.

After years of captivity, of answering to others, she could go wherever she liked, do whatever she pleased. She could travel the world—without fear of burning.

But Lothaire’s selfless gift—after all, he could never enjoy it with her—only reminded Ellie that there had been a chance between them. When tears welled, she dashed them away, embarrassed for Nïx to see.

Needing her family, if only just to watch them from a distance for a spell, Ellie collected her bag and hastily waved good-bye to Val Hall, to the wraiths, to Nïx.

“Adieu, Queen Ellie!” the Valkyrie called.

“Thank you for everything, Nïx.” Ellie shrugged into her hoodie, pulling it over her head, just in case someone happened to spot her. Then she traced to the woods near her mother’s trailer.

The forest blanketing the mountain was old growth, the pines and hardwoods so dense that sunlight barely reached the moist ground—not that she had to worry about that any longer. As she strolled along familiar paths, she gazed up, watching the taller treetops rake a steady ridgeline breeze.

Her senses were so acute now. Here, she could smell the very earth. The sound of the cicadas was like a roar in her ears.

Every time she stepped on green pine needles, their crisp scent erupted. A bite of evergreen.

Like Lothaire’s scent.

Don’t think about him, Ellie! Look forward, never dwell.

From the edge of the woods, she spied her old trailer, finding it dingier than ever in the daylight. The aroma of cooking food carried from within. Though no longer appealing to her appetite, it smelled like home.

How would she ever be able to leave this mountain again? She knew she couldn’t stay, but where could she go?

Ellie briefly considered living in one of the exotic locales Lothaire had taken her to. And how exactly would I get blood from Bora-Borans—

Oh, there was Josh! He played with some of his cousins on a broken-down, rusted swing set.

Look how much he’s grown! His dark hair had more of an auburn tint than hers did, but their eyes shared the same color.

How she’d missed her baby brother! As she watched him, she got lost in memories of him as a chubby toddler, recalling how he’d barreled around the trailer like a Weeble, always leading with his stubborn chin.

Those tears of hers gathered and spilled—

“Hands where I can see ’em, or I’ll blow your head off!”

Uncle Ephraim. In the woods behind her.

She froze. Oh, my God! So much for not making contact with her family.

And he was such a quick trigger, she wondered if she could even trace away before a bullet plugged her. Trace away to where, Ellie?

“Hands up, I said!”

She dropped her grocery bag, raising her hands. “It’s me, Uncle Eph. It’s Ellie.” She eased around, then uncovered her head.

His weather-beaten face paled, his wide jaw slackening as he lowered his gun. “Ruth!” he yelled in the direction of the trailer. “Ruth, come quick, your daughter’s losing her eyes!”

Ellie cried, “What?” Oh, the tears! “Wait, I’m not losing my eyes! Don’t call her—”

Too late. Mama came charging out in her house slippers, nearly tripping down the steps. “What is it?” She shoved her thick red hair out of her face, tossing a cigarette.

Ephraim covered Ellie’s shoulder with his callused hand. “Just stay calm, girl, and we’ll get you to a hospital fast as lightning.”

“I’m fine. This is just how I cry now.” As if that made any sense.

But when her mother reached them, she took one look at Ellie and shook her head sadly. “Ellie Ann, are them