“Ana! What the hell are you doing?” Nik demanded, swerving us into a parking spot to the sound of multiple horns.
I ignored Nik for the moment. “What about the blood bond? Doesn’t that make a difference? You’ve taken blood from me before without dire consequences, remember?” I’d offered this before, when Elias had been injured. He’d had no problem then.
A light of hope seemed to soften Elias’s face. “The bond. Of course.”
Nikolai’s hand was on my shoulder, trying to get me to turn and face him. “This is so not okay. I can’t let him feed on you in my car!”
But it was too late. Elias sprang at catlike speed. His teeth sank deep into my forearm.
I
was vaguely aware that Nikolai shouted. The electric light of the coffee shop on the corner was a hazy blur. The only sensation that mattered was the pounding throb of blood moving through my body.
Somehow, I too
tasted coppery sweetness on my own lips. Where was that coming from? I didn’t have time to process the thought as my gnawing hunger was calmed with every passing second. The sensation was like seeing a chocolate cake after a week of dieting. The first bite might be all my body needed, but I couldn’t stop. I wanted more.
The hammering beat began to slow. A coldness crept into my fingers and toes. My head felt separated, floating off to somewhere far away. I wanted to lie down in the calm emptiness of it all.
I heard the sound of wings fluttering.
And then there was a horrible rending snap, an electric shock of pain. I fell back into hard, clear focus.
Nikolai
had gotten into the backseat, the door left open to the rush of wind and the hiss of passing cars. One of his arms was in a choke hold around Elias’s throat; his psychic blade buried in Elias’s leg.
Elias spat and snarled. My blood spattered his chin. His fangs were barred, but his eyes watched me warily. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice straining against the pressure of Nik’s headlock.
I looked down at my arm. It was a mess. I’d have bruises for sure, and another scar in the shape of a dotted crescent to go with all the others. But the bleeding had slowed and was already starting to congeal. My head felt like lead, but I answered, “I’ll be okay.”
“You nearly killed her,” Nikolai said.
Elias looked a bit chagrined but spoke to me when he said, “I went too far, and I’m sorry for that, my lady. But I couldn’t have killed you, not without killing a part of myself.”
Nikolai removed the blade from Elias’s leg with a magical pop that made my own twinge. I must have flinched, because Elias noticed it.
“The bond is much stronger now,” he said, rubbing his neck when Nikolai released it as well. We sighed in relief at the same time.
Nikolai’s eyes flicked between us. “Well, that’s creepy.”
“Perhaps,” Elias said, his eyes returning to their usual gray. “But it worked. The hunger is sated.”
A semitruck passed close enough to rattle the car. Nikolai seemed suddenly aware he’d left the door open. After pinning Elias under one last I’m-watching-you glare, he got out and returned to the driver’s seat.
“Why?” I
asked. Nikolai started the engine, but I didn’t turn to face the front yet. “Why did it work? I thought you couldn’t get satisfaction from small tastes anymore.”
“Witch blood is more powerful,” Elias said, though he didn’t sound as though he was stating a fact so much as postulating a theory. He wiped his chin on the shoulder of his shirt, leaving a dark smudge. “And perhaps the bond added something?”
“What if we offered the vampires a taste instead of a full hunt?” I asked.
“Because it doesn’t work long term,” Nikolai said. “And it’s disgusting.”
“The hunter makes one accurate point,” Elias said. “During the Burning Times, there were many fewer witches, and there was talk of suspending the lottery. Offering smaller doses was tried, but the hunger rebounded, coming back harder and more violent each time. The queen was forced to offer herself, as hers was the only death strong enough to satisfy.”
“So the queen’s blood has special properties?” I asked. “Why? What are they?”
Even Nikolai, who’d been muttering angrily to himself, stopped and turned to see what Elias would say.
Elias shook his head; he sounded surprised when he answered, “I don’t know.”
Nikolai looked to me. “Are you saying you think there’s something actually different, like scientifically, in witch blood?”
“Or magically,” I said, since I hadn’t really considered the possibility of some molecular or cell-level specialness.
I thought
about all the doctors and lawyers at the coven’s picnic earlier today. I could see the political advantages of making sure there were lawyers to protect us, but why were so many of our high-ranking Elders medical doctors?
There was also the book of names. It was an ancient record that traced witch marriages, births, and deaths. Everyone who was initiated was recorded in it, sort of like when Christians added names to Bibles at baptism. I’d always thought it was just another ancient tradition meant to make those of us who were uninitiated feel left out. But what if the early recorders were actually tracking something?
“
Is
our blood different?” I looked at Nikolai’s bandaged hand. His mom always took care of minor scrapes for any witch in need. I tried to remember the trips I’d had to the doctor for checkups, vaccinations, and such. We always used one of the doctors in the coven. I’d assumed it was one of those things you did to support the community, but could there have been an ulterior motive?
I turned around to face the front. “Nik, have you ever been to a doctor who wasn’t in the coven?”
He was checking over his shoulder for a break in the traffic so he could pull us back onto the road. “No,” he said. “There’s a witch in almost every specialty. We were even able to find a cardiologist in Rochester at Mayo when my dad had those chest pains last year.”
“Really? Doesn’t that strike you as kind of odd?” I asked.
“It’s an ancient calling. It’s a healer thing.” Nik shrugged as if he’d decided he didn’t like this theory anymore.
“Or it’s a blood thing,” Elias said quietly.
There was that
bloodmobile at the coven gathering. Come to think of it, I saw it there every year. “What if so many of us are doctors as a kind of protection? To make sure we get the right kind of transfusions and stuff? And so that no one looks too closely under a microscope?”
Nikolai shook his head. “I don’t buy it. Some mundane would have discovered us by now.”
“What if the difference is really subtle? I mean, I don’t know that much about the science, but if Elias can drink regular human blood as well as ours, the difference is probably almost undetectable. But it might be just the difference we need. I mean, maybe we can isolate that one bit the vampires crave and, I don’t know, make a synthetic substitute.”
“Now you’re talking science fiction,” Nikolai said. We’d come to the big brick apartment building on the corner of Highland and Fairview, and he made a right. “Where do you plan to manufacture this synth blood—in your secret laboratory?” He said the last word in a thick Dr. Frankenstein accent, with an emphasis heavy on the “bor.”
I was irritated by the intrusion of reality into my scenario. “I was thinking long term,” I snapped. “Of course, I wasn’t planning to whip something up in the kitchen sink.”
But Nik wasn’t done crushing my dream. “You’re the one who pointed out how many coveners are docs. Don’t you think they would have considered this idea, anyway?”
“Actually, I don’t,” Elias said. “Science and magic have often been pitted against each other. Your medical experts might understand that witch blood is different. They may even have researched it for their own needs, but I doubt they’ve considered what it means to the hunt. For our part, vampires have always assumed that the critical component to the hunt is the magic of death.”
“Maybe it still is,” I murmured. “In which case, Bea’s mom is screwed.”
We passed
a business center. Lights were so bright here that the sidewalks seemed bathed in artificial sunlight.
“Perhaps there is a magic in death or sacrifice that’s essential to the first blood bond between witch and vampire,” Elias continued. “But the truth is, there’s something to Ana’s theory. I was slowly unraveling before Ana’s generous offer, and now … things are more stable. It’s a profound difference. One I could not glean from normal human blood.”
My arm was still tender, and I cradled it in my lap. Nik glanced over at my movement and made a face. “We need to wrap that.
Chyort voz’mi!
That looks awful.”
Nik must have been really upset to swear in Russian. He once confessed to me that he felt like a peasant anytime his father’s language slipped out. I looked at my arm. He was right, of course.
I heard a ripping sound from the backseat. When I turned to look, Elias had torn off a long strip from the tail of his shirt. “Give it here, my lady. It’s the least I can do.”
Unbuckling, I turned around again. Nik watched us warily in the rearview, his mouth set in a grim line. Elias gently and expertly wrapped the wound on my arm. “I think you may be on to something,” he said, twisting the ends into a clever knot. “Perhaps there’s a scientist among the coveners whom you trust?”
Thing
was, I wasn’t very tight with any of the Elders. They’d pretty much shut me out since the disaster that was my Initiation. “My mom knows all the university types, but I don’t know if that means we can trust them or not.”
“To the queen’s credit, she seemed genuinely surprised by this turn of events,” Elias said, checking his work. Clearly, he’d field-dressed a bite wound a time or two in his past. The rag bandage was snug, but not too tight. I flexed my fingers. I felt as if I were wearing one of those arm-length gloves, except this one started past my wrist and stopped before my elbow.
We left the lights behind when we turned down River Road. We were almost to Hidden Falls. The summer air drifting off the Mississippi smelled strongly of fish.
“I hope we’re not too late,” I whispered as if saying a prayer.
Nikolai added, “I hope this is the right place.”
“I hope we can actually save her,” Elias said.
The lot was deserted. We pulled into a spot next to a sign proclaiming the park open from sunrise to sunset. Swarms of bugs swirled around the single overhead streetlamp. I stepped out to the chorus of tree frogs and crickets. A carpet of stars spread overhead. The trimmed grass was wet with evening dew.
Nikolai locked the car with a jangle of keys and then leaned against the hood of the car. The engine clicked as it cooled.
Elias
stood beside me, his head cocked slightly as if listening intently for something.
Another car came down the sloped driveway, its headlights flashing across the grass. When it got close enough, I recognized Bea’s Buick. It pulled into the spot next to Nikolai’s battered Toyota. I was surprised to see that it was Mr. Braithwaite driving. Bea sat beside him, her eyes red and swollen from crying.
I ran to comfort her. Before I could open the door to help her out, Mr. Braithwaite jumped out of the car. He was dressed in khaki shorts with tons of pockets, and a black tee with the words
RESISTANCE IS FUTILE
and some sort of formula underneath in parentheses, which I read
IF LESS THAN ONE OHM
. I didn’t pretend to understand his humor, or the fashion sense that would also have him wearing dark socks with his sandals.
He pointed a shaky finger at Elias. Behind round Harry Potter glasses, his eyes were wild with accusation. “You brought a vampire?”
How was it that people always knew? I turned to check out Elias, wondering if I would be able to tell if I didn’t know him so well. Catlike, his eyes reflected the parking lot’s overhead lamp. Okay, I could see how that might freak out Mr. Braithwaite.
“Elias is my friend. I trust him,” I said calmly. “He’s been able to track the hunt in the past. He helped me find my mom once, when vampires were after her.”
Mr. Braithwaite’s mouth worked with unformed protests.
“He’s been fed. In my car, no less,” Nikolai said drily. “I’ll make sure he behaves, Mr. B.”
Elias shot Nik a dark look but said nothing.
I opened
the door and helped Bea to her feet. She didn’t say anything as she wrapped me in a hug. Her face was hot and wet against my shoulder, and she took in several ragged breaths.
“Have you found her?” she asked. Pulling out of our embrace, Bea scanned the area anxiously, as if hoping to spot her mom sitting safely in our car or standing nearby.
“We only just got here,” I admitted regretfully.
“Why aren’t you looking?” Bea pushed away from me and ran off randomly, calling out, “Mom? Mom?”
Mr. Braithwaite took off in the opposite direction toward the river’s edge, shouting, “Kat? Can you hear us? Kat?”
Nik unfolded his arms and stood up. “We should check the falls.” He pointed to the right. I strained to see where he indicated. I could barely make out a shadowy, gaping break in the tree line.
I waved, trying to catch Bea’s attention, but Nik shook his head. “She’s too freaked out right now to be much help. Let her run off some steam. You can call her phone if we actually find Mrs. B.”
I didn’t like the idea of leaving Bea in the state she was in, but Nik was already on the move. I ran to catch up. There were no signs indicating a walking trail or something of interest among the trees, but Nik seemed to know where he was going. Elias fell into step behind us. Our shoes left prints in the silvery dew as we walked to the edge of the mowed lawn.
A path seemed to appear out of the darkness when we reached the tree cover. The grass was longer and weedier here, but tire ruts cut a clear route into the distance. Mosquitoes swarmed thickly. They whined in my ears and bit my naked arms.
We followed
a slight curve to a concrete-slab bridge. Here the route narrowed to a footpath. Round boulders were set into concrete retaining walls that formed the channel and, at varying intervals, water trickled over algae-slicked, man-made falls. The spray smelled lightly of sewage. An abandoned plastic bottle bobbed in the lowest pool, trapped in a bay of broken concrete chunks. It was too dark to see all the way to the top. The path was barely distinguishable among the tall, untrimmed grasses and ferns.