Almost Everything (25 page)

This plan of mine
could
work, and it was a risk I was willing to take.

I think my dad saw my determination in my eyes, because he asked, “Is your mother aware of this?”

“Yeah,” I said. “She’s not terribly happy about it, though.”

“I imagine not,” Elias said with a little chuckle. He caught my eye, and we shared a smile about my mom.

“All right,” my dad said finally, “but I want to be certain of this. We will go over every scenario.”

I had to stifle a yawn. My eyes were scratchy, and I blinked slowly, trying to stay awake.

When I focused, Dad stared at me with a sympathetic look. “Tomorrow,” he said kindly. “The kingdom can wait until the princess has rested.”

“I’m not tired,” but even as I said it, I knew how childish I sounded.

Dad smiled. It was weird, but dressed as he was, he actually sort of looked like a dad. “It’s all right,” he said. “We can survive one more night. You can save the world tomorrow.”

I let out the yawn I’d been holding back. “Okay, good.”

I barely
remembered the drive home. Evidently, given that I woke up in them, somehow I got into pajamas and snuggled under the cotton sheets.

A blue jay’s squawk sounded from the pine tree just outside my window. I rolled over and stuffed the pillow over my head and ears. I squeezed my eyes shut but couldn’t get back to sleep.

I’d been dreaming about being chased by rabid wolves through an American Girl birthday party at the Mall of America. That last part was just the weirdness of dreams, but I knew the other images had everything to do with my plan to solve the hunt.

Pulling the pillow off my head, I blinked into the bright sun. Would it seem even brighter when I became a full vampire? I also wondered if there would come a time, if I lived long enough, when I couldn’t stand the sight of it anymore.

At least I was becoming a vampire in a time of twenty-four-hour service. If I really wanted to, I could still go to a McDonald’s at two a.m. The world was still different at night, but thanks to online services, I could still order books or check my bank account or shop for shoes in the middle of the night. It had not been like that when Elias was brought over; the world mostly shut down after dark back then.

It wouldn’t be so bad for me.

Besides, it would be something like the year 2300 by the time I couldn’t stand any sun. Who knew what things would be like then? Maybe we’d be living on Mars. And, anyway, maybe with global warming, I could just move to Finland or the Arctic Circle where it’s dark for half the year and still have a “normal” life.

What I
needed to do today, however, was make sure I didn’t die tonight. I had a few things to do, so I wiped the sleep from my eyes and pulled myself out of bed.

First, I took a long bath and made a big breakfast. Mom shuffled into the kitchen in her fuzzy slippers and terry cloth robe. Her hair stood up in all directions. She sat down in the bright yellow chair next to the table and blinked blearily at me. “You’re cooking,” she remarked.

Indeed, I was. I’d gotten down the heavy cast iron skillet and was frying bacon. I had eggs beaten in a bowl ready to be scrambled. “Breakfast is the most important part of your day,” I said.

She gave an unimpressed snort and pulled herself up with a groan to grab a mug from the cabinet. This one had the classic Wiccan bumper sticker phrase
ANKH IF YOU LOVE ISIS
printed in bright red, friendly letters on it. She poured herself a cup of the coffee I’d brewed.

I cooked the scrambled eggs and divided them and the bacon between two plates. Mom’s mouth hung open even farther when I handed her a fork. “Dig in,” I suggested.

“Did you talk to your dad last night?” she asked.

The bacon was crisp and salty. I nodded as I chewed.

“What did he say about this crazy plan of yours?”

First on my
to-do list: convince Mom to go along with the plan—or at least not to get in the way of it.

“Look, I know you’re against this,” I started.

“Damn right I am,” she snapped, interrupting me brusquely. She slammed her cup down so hard on the table that it clanked. Coffee splashed onto the wood, like spatters of blood. “I have never wanted you to become a vampire. It’s an ugly, awful existence. You’ve seen them! I thought you understood. When you decided not to join them last year, I figured you’d made your choice.”

“I did,” I said quietly. “I like being the way I am.”

“Then why do this?”

“Because somebody has to sacrifice something, Mom, and I can do it without dying—without anybody having to die.”

Her frown deepened at my words, and she chewed at her bottom lip. Absently, she used the cuff of her sleeve to daub at the beads of coffee on the table. She didn’t look at me for a long time; then, finally, she spoke. “When did you become such a goddamn altruist?” She snorted. “Sometimes I don’t think you’re related to either Ramses or me.”

I took that as a compliment, despite her tone.

My mom shook her head, obviously still struggling to concede my point. “You’re still not going to solve the problem, not forever. What are you going to do when the hunger comes back in just over a decade, huh? You’re not going to have an extra soul to sacrifice, then, and it’s going to be the same crisis all over again.”

I poked at my eggs with my fork. “I’m thinking about studying biochemistry.”

Mom
laughed, and not at all kindly. “You think science is the answer?”

“Magic hasn’t been much help,” I shot back. “And, you know, things have changed since the Stone Age. We understand a lot more about blood and how it works.”

“But no one has ever understood the soul,” she said quietly.

“Maybe I will,” I said.

She took a long sip of her coffee and watched me over the rim. “I can see you’re serious about this, but I don’t think the cost is worth it.”

“How can you still say that? After everything that happened last night with Bea’s mom?” I decided the smart way to talk to Mom about this was to focus on what the hunt did to the witch community. She might have a hard heart when it came to vampires, but she was the Queen of Witches. I knew she felt responsibility there. “If we don’t solve the hunt soon, the coven is going to splinter. It already has. Someone acted on their own because they didn’t trust the Elders not to sell them out.”

“Who was that exactly?” Mom, curious, said sharply.

“I don’t know exactly,” I lied smoothly. “I just know you say you didn’t orchestrate it, and Nik says his dad didn’t, so unless the Elders are making decisions without you …”

I let that last bit hang there. It was probably mean of me, because I knew there was always tension between Mom and the council. Her eyes narrowed, and I could almost see the list of names she considered as possible traitors flash through her unfocused gaze.

“You’re sure this plan of yours is perfectly safe?”

“I’m sure my life is in no danger,” I said, because, well, there were risks, of course. Nothing involving vampires was “perfectly safe.”

Mom seemed
to sense my attempt to deflect the intent of her question, but she let it go. “I want to be there, as extra protection. If something does go wrong, I want a witch there who can hold back those monsters, if necessary.”

I didn’t like the way she put it, but I could appreciate the sentiment. “All right,” I agreed.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” she asked.

“We’re going to gather tonight,” I said. I realized I didn’t know where or when; I knew only that my dad and Elias were working out some of the details.

She sensed my hesitation over the details. “You should do it at the covenstead,” Mom suggested. “It’s private, and it’s far enough out of town that it will take the vampires some time to reach it. Plus, there are lots of wards already in place—things we could trigger quickly if need be.”

I chewed a bit of egg slowly and swallowed it, watching Mom intently with suspicion. When I considered trying to bring her around to my plan, I didn’t expect this kind of endorsement or support. What was she playing at? Was she seriously just thinking about my safety or did she have some ulterior motive? “Um, okay,” I said finally, unable to figure out what she might be thinking. “That seems like a good idea. I’ll get the word to Dad.”

“You do that.” She pushed herself away from the table, leaving her plate barely touched.

“Where are you going?”

“You reminded me that there are some people I need to talk to about what happened last night. If my authority is being undermined …” She pursed her lips. “Well, I should go.”

It was
nine o’clock in the morning. I wondered whose door she was going to pound on this early. With Mom in the mood she was in, I didn’t envy her lucky target, whoever it was. “Okay, have fun,” I said jokingly.

She just scowled at me and headed out the door.

I was glad to have the house to myself, frankly, so I could riffle through my mother’s things. Specifically, I was looking for a phone number. I could have asked Nik, but I didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily. I found Mom’s old address book in the desk drawer under a stack of bank statements. Most of her newer contacts would be in her phone or on her BlackBerry, but I was hopeful that what I was looking for would be in this old, forgotten flowered booklet.

At first I thought I’d struck out. Then I found Victor’s name under
K
, for Kirov. I only hoped the number listed was for the landline, because I really wanted Nik’s mom and she didn’t have a separate listing.

I dialed the numbers and waited. Nik’s family lived on a stipend from the coven, so neither of his parents had to work, but I knew Mr. Kirov slept during the day. When I heard Nik’s mom answer, I nearly breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s Ana,” I told her. “You owe me a favor.”

Then, without
waiting for her reaction, I explained what I wanted her to do. I would continue to keep her secret safe from Mom, who, I was sure to remind her, was on a rampage this morning trying to root out traitors in the coven. In exchange, she would get me several pints of witch blood from the contacts I was sure she must have in the coven’s medical community. It had to be witch blood. I stressed this repeatedly.

“What is this for?” she asked.

“I’m going to stop the hunt,” I said. “Remember what we talked about last night?”

“Yes, the animus. You have a way to separate it from your body?”

“I think so,” I said.

“And you need the blood to feed them?”

“Think of it as a supplement,” I said.

“You’re crazy,” she said. “A few pints of blood will never be enough to satisfy them. They’ll tear you to pieces, and you will lose both your souls and your life.”

I hated the way her accent came out when she said things like that. It felt as if I were receiving a fortune. “Yeah, well, let me worry about that. Just get me the blood.”

“You will keep my secret?”

“Totally.”

“Meet me at the Hmongtown Marketplace at three o’clock.”

That was a totally strange place to pick, but I had to admire her quick thinking. It wasn’t as if we were likely to run into any coveners there. The Hmong in St. Paul had their own magic workers who rarely intersected with ours. “Deal.”

I killed
time listening to my iPod and reading a book. At some point, Mom came back. We didn’t talk; she went directly upstairs for a shower. The humidity was pretty low today, and the cool breeze lulled me into a nap. I woke up to the sound of the doorbell.

Mom answered the door before I could rouse myself. I heard her giggle. Then she called out, “Ana, a young gentleman to see you.”

Okay, color me curious.

Thompson stood on the other side of the screen door with a bouquet of flowers. They were gorgeous and exactly the kind of artsy arrangement I loved to window-shop at the St. Paul Farmers’ Market: a riotous combination of bright zinnias, sunflowers, and lilies.

“Hey, Matt,” I said, remembering at the last minute not to call him Thompson.

He smiled.

Mom raised her eyebrows and cleared her throat.

I got the hint. “Uh, Mom, this is Matthew Thompson.”

Mom opened the door and held out a hand for him to shake. He gave it a good, solid pump. “Mrs. Parker,” he said.

I winced, but, for once in her life she didn’t correct “Mrs.” to “Dr.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mom said. “Won’t you come in?”

I could see
Mom checking Thompson over. He was in his landscaping uniform: grass-stained jeans and a green T-shirt with
Thompson’s Lawn Care
embroidered in white thread over his heart. “I have only a few minutes,” he said to me as he handed me the bouquet. “I’m on my lunch break.”

“These are gorgeous,” I told him. It was such a sweet, mundane gesture that I felt tears prickle behind my eyes. I wanted to tell him about tonight, all my fears that it wouldn’t work or that something would go wrong; I wanted to cling to his strong neck and make him tell me everything was going to be okay.

But he wouldn’t understand.

So I turned away and headed to the kitchen to find a vase. Behind me, I heard Mom ask him to leave his shoes by the door. I hoped he didn’t take it personally. Mom made everyone do that. You’d think wood floors would be easy to keep clean, but any stray piece of dirt attracted dust bunnies like nobody’s business.