She scowls. “People live there, don’t they? Someone has to take care of stuff and provide that blood. I bet they have theaters and plays. These are the oldest of the Old Family vampires; they probably lavish themselves in extravagance. They won the war. They’re bound to have the best of everything. Museums, art, libraries. I’d love to see it.”
I can hear the deep wistfulness in her voice. I wish I could take her so she could experience all these wonderful things the Old Family has collected. Even if they are like Valentine and abhor modern technology, they’ll still have priceless heirlooms. Old Family are wealthy beyond imagining. They’ll have exquisite clothes, marvelous homes.
“I should probably pack a nice black dress,” I murmur. “And heels.”
“Definitely,” Tegan answers. “And wear your hair up. I really should go with you so I can fix it for you.”
“I wish you could, but, Tegan, it’s a city filled with Old Family. Would you really want to be there?”
She visibly shudders. “No. Just . . . just don’t let them turn you.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Her cell phone rings. She pulls it from her pocket, stares at the display, and answers. “Hey, Mom . . . Yeah, I am. Now? Okay. Okay, I get it. Okay. Okay.”
Hanging up, she rolls her eyes. “My mom. She’s got me on a short leash. I’ve gotta go.”
Even though Tegan would consider it a betrayal if she knew how I felt, I can’t blame her mom. Tegan snuck on the train so she could go to Los Angeles with me. I’m sure her mother wasn’t aware of her plans.
“I’m sorry your family was worried.”
“They don’t understand. You’re my best friend in all the world. I couldn’t let you go alone.”
I squeeze her hand. “I’m glad you were there.”
“Not that I did much good.” She pouts. “Missed my chance to stake Sin.”
“We haven’t seen the last of him.”
“I’ll be ready next time,” she says.
Unfortunately, I don’t know if it’s possible to prepare for any encounter with Sin. He’s not exactly sane.
She gives me a big hug. “Please come back.”
“I will. Count on it.”
She opens the door.
“Hey, Tegan?”
She stops and looks back over her shoulder.
“You didn’t answer my question about you and Michael.”
“Would it bother you if I liked him?”
“I think it would be awesome. The two people I love most in the world loving each other.”
She suddenly looks shy and vulnerable. “Then maybe. I don’t know.”
“He’s a really good guy.”
She smiles. “That I do know. And he’s hot.”
She leaves, and the sudden emptiness of the room descends on me. The tape recorder draws my attention, but I turn away and get serious about packing. Just enough clothes to get there and back. With four of us in the car, there won’t be room for extras. I’m sure Victor can buy me whatever I need in New Vampiria—I kind of doubt they’ll accept cash from a human. Actually, maybe a little shopping wouldn’t be too bad. Old Family always dress so well. I’m bound to be introduced to designers, tailors, dressmakers.
I pack, unpack, repack about a dozen times. Of course, I’m just avoiding that tape player. I know why. Because I already know what’s on it. Not the exact words. I don’t know when it was recorded or where. All I know is that the voices on it will be familiar.
The voices will belong to my parents.
The sun is beginning to set, and I know I’m running out of time. If I’m going to do this before I leave, I need to suck it up and do it.
At my desk I keep repositioning the recorder, as if its exact placement will radically affect the outcome of what’s on the tape. When I’m satisfied, I take a deep breath and hit play.
The wheels of the tape begin spinning. Static. Then Dad’s voice.
Mom!
The static rolls on and they’re gone again. I shut off the recorder.
And I begin to cry. I put my head in my hands and let everything out. With each tear I feel them, with each deep, choked breath I hear them. I grab the sides of my hoodie and pull it tight around me, like they’re right here, holding me. Hugging me.
I miss them so, so much.
I put my hands on the tape recorder, my wet fingertips smearing the tears over the buttons, and I whisper . . .
“I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Chapter 7
“Dawn?”
Victor’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I don’t know how long I’ve been crying. I look up to see him crouching beside me, my balcony door open. He’s always moved so silently. I wipe at the tears. “You could have come in through the front door. Rachel is expecting you.”
He gives me a wry grin. “Old habits are hard to break.”
He’s come into my room through the balcony doors so many times. Climbing walls, leaping from balcony to balcony is no challenge to vampires.
“I guess it’s time for us to go,” I say.
He skims his fingers along my cheek. “First, tell me why you were crying.”
I touch the recorder, explain what it is, and tell him that Clive gave it to me before I left his office that afternoon. “I think he felt guilty. I might have died without ever hearing them.”
Victor tucks my hair behind my ear. “May I hear them?”
My heart stutters a little at his request. To share something so personal and special with him . . . It would
