intend to now.
But she absolutely could not face her family right now. Dominique and Adianna were the last people she wanted to see. Neither did she care to see the other vampire hunters with whom her family would be celebrating the New Year.
At nearly eleven o’clock, she pulled into the brightly lit parking lot of SingleEarth Haven. The mishmash of brilliant auras seeped out of the magically protected building—vampires, shapeshifters, witches, and humans.
She found Caryn near the door. The healer took one look at Sarah and led her to an empty room.
“Why the gloom?” Caryn asked gently, as Sarah collapsed onto the bed.
When Sarah did not answer, Caryn put a hand on her shoulder, friendly despite the fact that they had never been friends. The other witch’s aura was like a warm breeze, gentle and soothing as it brushed over Sarah’s skin.
“Sarah, what’s wrong?”
“Can I just stay here tonight? I can’t face my mother right now.” Sarah grimaced. “If I don’t come home tonight, she’s going to want to know where I’ve been. She’ll be upset if I miss the gathering, but it’s not against the law for me to be here.”
Caryn sat on the bed next to the flustered hunter. “So long as you’re here peacefully, you’re welcome to stay. But I would have thought you’d want to spend the New Year with your family.”
Sarah closed her eyes, trying to clear from her mind Christopher’s expression. “There are some things I need to think through before I see them again. And I don’t want to fight with Dominique on a holiday.”
Caryn patted her hand. “Stay as long as you like. If you’re feeling up to it, you should come downstairs, meet some of the others. Even a hunter needs peace in her life sometimes.”
“And how would SingleEarth react to a hunter in their midst?” Sarah asked dryly.
“If you walk in there, some vampires will be nervous, but they’ll give you a chance.” Sarah laughed, but Caryn went on, saying, “It’s the effort that matters. Every vampire, every witch, still has a human soul.”
Sarah hesitated, but spending the night alone in this little room, listening to the music from downstairs and staring out the window, was not how anyone would want to spend a holiday.
Caryn led her downstairs, where the SingleEarth party was bustling with activity. Humans mingled with vampires and witches, laughing and joking together as if they were all the same kind.
Sarah rotated her shoulders, trying to work the tension from between her shoulder blades. No matter how light and happy the revelers were, she kept expecting to feel a knife in her back.
“Loosen up, Sarah,” Caryn encouraged her. “Introduce yourself to someone, and ask him to dance. Just have fun. SingleEarth is a safe, neutral place—no one’s going to bite.”
Despite Caryn’s urging, Sarah’s feeling of being misplaced refused to fade. She did not join the party, but watched from the edge, until at nearly two o’clock in the morning there was some excitement outside. Someone grabbed Caryn’s arm, pulling her toward the doorway.
Caryn paused when she saw whatever it was that stood beyond the door, but she quickly gathered herself and stepped outside, with Sarah hurrying after.
The yard was bright, and Sarah recognized the figure that was leading Caryn toward a dark corner. She trailed behind unobtrusively, not wanting to speak with Christopher if she could help it, but not willing to leave Caryn alone with any non-SingleEarth vampire, even one that she knew. Christopher had blood on his arm, and a small streak of it on his cheek as if he had brushed hair out of his face without realizing his hand was bloody.
Christopher had driven to the party, which was odd in itself, since he, like even the weakest of vampires, could have traveled more easily with his mind. He was driving a sleek white Le Sabre that Sarah had never seen before. She understood instantly, though, when he opened the door to the backseat to reveal an injured human.
Sarah relaxed a bit when she realized Christopher was here to help a human friend, but then her suspicions rose. How had the girl been injured in the first place?
Caryn slipped into the car, ignoring the blood, while Christopher knelt beside the open door.
“Apparently she was at a bash, and she got into a fight,” he explained quickly. “One of the vampires there asked me to get her help.”
“Why didn’t he bring her himself?” Caryn asked, her voice faint, as most of her concentration went to examining the human.
“Just help her,” was all Christopher said in answer.
A second later, Sarah heard Caryn’s breath hiss in with surprise.
Curious, Sarah stepped forward to look into the car.
The girl’s naturally smooth, dark skin was marred by bruises and shallow wounds, and Sarah could tell that the unconscious victim’s jaw was probably broken. She was bleeding in several places, and her breathing was quick and shallow.
Sarah could only see the girl’s right arm, but that was enough. Faded scars marked her skin—a rose on her right shoulder and a strand of ivy on her wrist. This girl was one of Nikolas’s victims. Had Nikolas beaten her, or had some other vampire caused this more recent injury?
“Sarah, Christopher, give me some room,” Caryn ordered. Her voice was soft, but the authority was unmistakable. Sarah could feel the gentle pulse of magic emanating from the healer—a warm, peaceful glow, so different from the painful Vida magic.
Sarah could see tension in Christopher’s movements as he slipped past her without a word, and moved further away from the light.
“Who is she?”
Christopher paused. “Her name is Marguerite,” he answered cautiously. “They asked me to take her, because no one in that group is allowed within a hundred yards of SingleEarth.”
“Why you?”
“Probably because they could find me.” His voice was growing cooler. “Blood calls to blood—a lot of the people in my line are in that circuit.” The words seemed a challenge, as he flaunted his connection to the killers.
She glanced at the car, where Caryn was still working. “What happened to her?”
Christopher shook his head. “I didn’t see it. All I know is that another vampire insulted Nikolas, and Marguerite took a swing at him. She nearly got herself killed before someone dragged the two of them apart.”
“You know Nikolas, then?” she asked aloud.
“Don’t, Sarah.” Christopher’s voice was sure, and made it very clear that he had no intention of telling her anything.
“Were you at the bash?”
“Do you think I’m the one who hit her?” Christopher asked, his voice quiet, but taut with anger.
No, she did not think Christopher would ever hurt a human. But if he was hanging out around Nikolas and other killers, then she would have to start wondering if her impressions were correct. “Did you?”
“I didn’t hurt her,” he said, turning away. “I wasn’t at the bash. I don’t follow that circuit.” He sounded hurt.
“I had to ask.” But that was a lie. She could read his aura, and more than that, she knew Christopher. He wasn’t a killer.
Sarah had nothing more to say to him. Dominique or Adianna would have had a knife to his throat immediately, demanding information on Nikolas and his group. Had he been speaking to any Daughter of Vida but Sarah, Christopher would not have lived through the next five minutes.
The tense silence lasted for several moments, until Caryn called for Christopher to take the girl home. Marguerite needed rest, but she would be fine.
Sarah didn’t know what bothered her more—that Christopher had been so frosty, or that she was watching two people who could have given her information on Nikolas drive away from her.
