All Just Glass

“What was that about?” Kristopher asked.

“Robert gave her some photos and other sentimental stuff,” Christine said, the mention of her brother making her expression warm. “And she brought some of her own pictures, and stayed to talk awhile.”

“About what?” Sarah asked, wary. It was nice to see Christine forming attachments to people other than Nikolas, but Sarah wasn’t sure how much of a role model Kaleo’s favorite, most dependant bloodbond should be.

“About life,” Christine replied sharply. “About what it’s like to be in this world. I know she’s old as heck, but she seems like she could be a friend, and knowing she’s been around this long and is happy makes me a little less scared about my future.”

Happy, with Kaleo.

Christine’s retort to what she must have seen on all their faces was again swift. “Yes, she’s happy.” She started gathering up her own collection of pictures, as well as a handful of camera memory cards. She noticed a photo on the ground and paused before putting it aside.

Sarah glanced at the photo with idle curiosity. Christine didn’t seem distressed by the image, but Sarah found it more than a little disturbing.

The photo was old and scuffed and had hardly been high quality in the first place, but enough details were visible for Sarah to get the gist. The woman at the center was kneeling on the floor, one hand tenderly twined in the hair of a man she was kissing. Someone else was kneeling behind the woman; she was leaning trustingly back against him while his lips were locked onto her throat, over her pulse. With them was another woman, who was feeding at the victim’s free wrist.

Sarah shuddered. Christine said defensively, “There’s nothing wrong with donating blood. I mean, I wouldn’t mind, if it were someone I cared about.”

The implied offer made Sarah realize for the first time that the hunger was back. She had fed on powerful blood, but then she had spent most of the energy healing herself and Kristopher.

Nikolas saved her from needing to respond to Christine by reaching between them to pluck the picture from the table. He frowned at it before he told the human girl, “There’s nothing wrong with donating, but don’t let Heather convince you there aren’t any dangers, either. You’re safe because you wear my marks, but that doesn’t mean all of my kind are always … kind.” He stared at the photograph, a dark but thoughtful expression on his face.

“Who is she?” Kristopher asked.

“You were with Nissa when Jerome started bringing her to our circuit,” Nikolas answered. He glanced at Sarah and then explained, “Jerome is an ally, but not someone I would call a friend. He likes to play with his prey, manipulating their emotions and making them completely dependent on him. Heather can be pretty … needy,” he said, obviously trying to be gentle for Christine’s sake, “but part of that is having been bonded to Kaleo for centuries. This girl was probably one of the worst addicts I have ever seen, and she was still completely human.”

“Did you ever—” Sarah broke off, realizing she didn’t want to know.

“I never fed on her,” Nikolas answered. “And I haven’t seen her in decades, so Jerome either tired of her or she gave her throat to the wrong person. Or both.” He looked at the photo again and then put it into his pocket. “I’m going to catch up with Heather and return this.”

He disappeared.

Nikolas’s description had obviously unsettled Christine a bit, but she shrugged at his disappearance and said, “Heather made it pretty clear that we’re the lucky ones. Kaleo—” She choked out the word and swallowed before continuing. “She says he treats her well, and protects her. I know not everyone has it so easy.” She looked directly at Sarah as she said, “Heather agrees that you’ll be one of the good ones. You risked yourself to save her. It made an impression.”

Sarah had the sense to control her first response and try to swallow the compliment. It was nice that someone thought she would be a good person even as a vampire, but she wasn’t sure Heather’s judgment was exactly sound.

“Unfortunately, many of our kind don’t make much of an effort to take care of the bonds other than their own,” Kristopher said when Sarah struggled to think of a reply. “I have a feeling you’ll never be that type. It’s something you and Nissa have in common.”

The memory that flashed through his mind—and Sarah’s—in that moment was of Nissa’s horrified reaction the first time she killed. The human she had fed on had abused his hosts’ hospitality at a bash in Kaleo’s circuit. Specifically, he had insulted Nissa, with Kaleo, Nikolas and Kristopher looking on. He never would have survived the night, but that didn’t change Nissa’s reaction when she realized she had taken too much.

Kristopher ripped his mind away from the memory—or tried. He couldn’t turn away from the memory of Nissa refusing to feed for weeks, or of Nikolas’s expression when Kristopher told him he was leaving for a while.

Kristopher stepped back, averting his gaze from Sarah’s.

Oblivious to the images running through both of their minds, Christine announced, “I’m going to head to bed. My body can’t seem to decide if it wants to be nocturnal or not lately.”

They both watched her walk away, and they both wanted to call her back to act as a buffer between them. There were too many dark thoughts on Kristopher’s mind that he couldn’t stop and couldn’t hide.

If he had just stepped in at that party and stopped Nissa, she never would have punished herself that way. No one in the room had paused to consider how Nissa would react to taking a human life, least of all him. He didn’t want to make the same mistake with Sarah. But what would be the mistake? She had been a Vida; she had been a killer most of her life. Who was he to judge?

Is that really how he sees me? Sarah wondered.

Suddenly, Kristopher’s thoughts focused, as he made what he felt to be a significant decision.

Enough of this, he thought. There are better things in this life.

Sarah’s instinctive reaction was unease, and she almost spoke to distract him, before he said, “I have an idea. It’s Saturday. In a couple hours, dozens of curtains will be going up in the city.” He said “the city” as if Sarah should know which one he meant. “Our people are safe. We’ve done all we can do for now. So let’s go out.”

Sarah blinked at him in confusion. What did anything he was saying have to do with anything that had occurred so far that morning? “Out … where?”

“To a show,” Kristopher said. “Maybe a musical—something light, anyway. What would you like to see?”

She almost said, I have never been to a musical in my life. I have no idea what I would like to see. Then the absurdity of the suggestion caught her, and without her will she said, “Are you insane?”

CHAPTER 16

SATURDAY, 4:40 P.M.

ADIA RETURNED TO the Makeshift near dusk. The sun set early that time of year, and heavy clouds had rolled in during the day, leaving the world far darker than it should have been at not even five in the evening. The bookstore was still open, bustling with humans who probably didn’t have a clue what kinds of creatures inhabited the place after dark. Unfortunately, Jerome was not present.

He might not have been awake yet, but she was impatient. Sitting on the hood of her car, she dialed the number he had given her. If he didn’t pick up, she could leave a message asking him if he wanted to get dinner. She was sure he would oblige once he woke.

As the phone rang, she watched a family with three young children spill out of the closing bookstore. The youngest was waving a book with a blue monster on the cover above his head triumphantly. To Adia, it seemed like a strange sight. She was used to visiting diners and cafes late at night, when her prey was about and there were no children with pom-poms on their knit hats.