I blink and don’t respond; my brain grappling with his words. Other vampires?
The silence stretches.
Wilder glances at me over his shoulder, and fear grips me with icy fingers.
His eyes are red, glowing in the light of the single street lamp beside us.
I should have run when I had the chance.
I expect him to lunge at me and tear my neck to shreds, but after a moment, he returns his gaze to the water.
“Does Stella love the elven prince?” he asks.
My gaze narrows. “Are you still crushing on her?” I say. I should probably keep my stupid mouth shut, but I’m not known for keeping silent on my opinions. “You’re a vampire.”
Wilder doesn’t respond right away, so I continue. “You left her for drugs. It would seem getting turned has brought back your sanity, but do you really think you’re good for her, after what has happened, and what you are now?”
Wilder exhales, his shoulders slumping. “You always were too honest by half,” he says ruefully. “You’re right. I don’t deserve her.”
But I still want her.
He doesn’t say the words out loud, but he might as well have. Before he got into the star-blood, Wilder was a devoted boyfriend. Even without the commitment of marriage, he had shared his money with Stella, helping her buy medicine for her brother and paying rent. He used to buy her flowers and secondhand books. I never had a crush on him, but I remember feeling envious of the relationship they had shared. I wanted that. I wanted a man to love me more than life. It hasn’t happened yet, probably because I’m contrary and smack people who tick me off.
“Stella likes him,” I say slowly, “but I don’t think she loves him. Not enough to marry him or whatever.” Stella was old-fashioned at heart. She wouldn’t bed Eldaren or anyone else until she was properly wed to said man.
Wilder is quiet. He’s now looking up at the stars. “The elf’s probably good for her,” he says. “He’s royalty, rich, and powerful.”
“He’s also controlling and manipulative,” I growl, “and he doesn’t think before speaking his mind. Eldaren’s a jerk.”
Wilder looks at me again. “Has he hurt her?”
I shiver at the iciness in his voice. “No,” I say. “He hasn’t. He’s an elf, which gives him the personality of a piece of cardboard, but despite that, he seems to be head over heels for her. I don’t get it.”
“I do,” Wilder says. “Stella is Stella.” He coughs and hunches his shoulders. “She’s not here,” he says. “She’s left Liberty.”
“What?” I stare at him. “How do you know?”
“Her scent has faded,” Wilder says. “And she wasn’t at the base when I went to see her.”
I swear, anger heating my face. “Did Eldaren take her to space?” The thought sends goosebumps prickling across my skin.
“It’s unlikely,” Wilder says, “at this point in time, anyway. I think he took her to Vashon. They’re looking for a gaia.”
“A what?” I wrinkle my nose. “What are you talking about?”
Wilder’s head snaps up, and he inhales sharply. “He’s here.”
Before I can even blink, Wilder’s scooped me up in his arms and is running.
The wind whistles in my ears and makes my eyes water.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Shh.” Wilder’s strides eat up the distance. He smells like clean sweat, leather, and copper. I try not to think about what the copper scent comes from, even as my stomach lurches with the knowledge of what it is.
It feels like mere moments and forever at the same time, but Wilder begins to slow and comes to a halt, setting me down.
“What was that all about?” I ask.
“There’s an elf who’s been hunting vampires,” Wilder says. He looks like he’s going to say something else, but then looks away. “It’s not safe for you to be out here.”
“The elves don’t attack humans,” I say slowly. It’s mostly true, I think.
Wilder grimaces and doesn’t respond.
“And you sound like Sol,” I say, “except he’s worried about vampires.” I eye him. “Who bit you?”
Wilder blinks. “What?”
“You’re a vampire,” I say, “so you had to have gotten bitten at some point. Do you know who it was? Did you get revenge?”
Wilder studies me for a moment. “What do you think of the elves, Lyra?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Arrogant jerks, the lot of them. But they seem like they’re trying to help, even if they suck at it.”
“I’ve been killing gangsters,” Wilder says. Stars, he’s talking an awful lot tonight. “Revenge, I guess, for what they did to me with the star-blood.”
I narrow my eyes. “I see.”
“I’m fighting gangs,” Wilder says, going on as if he hadn’t heard me, “but I’m no friend to the elves, either. I want both gone.”
My fear is still there, but he hasn’t killed me yet, so I’m feeling more curious than anything at this point. Do I trust him? Before the drugs, Wilder was a good man. Beyond good, actually. He was selfless, compassionate, and honest. He was everything a woman could want in a man.
“I’ve been spying on the elves,” I say. “I’m part of a resistance. A rebellion, if you will. We call ourselves the Colonials, and we’re trying to get the elves out of America.”
Wilder smirks. “I knew it.”
I cock my head. “What? You did?”
“You’ve always been a rebel at heart, Lyra. It’s in your blood.” His face visibly pales, and he looks at the ground. “Poor choice of words. Sorry.”
I snort. “Don’t kill me, and we can be mostly friends.”
Wilder half-smiles, but he still won’t look at me. His fingers are curled into fists, nails digging into his palms.
Huh. Vampires are weird, but Wilder seems . . . human. Are there any other vampires that are this well behaved, or is it just him?
“I think I want to join your rebellion,” Wilder says, “if you think your group would allow it.”
I stare at him wide-eyed, my mind whirling at the implications.
Wilder is a vampire now, but he was human before. He’s more human than the elves are. He’s fighting
