Hourglass (22 page)

“I told you before, being a vampire isn’t the same as being alive.”

“It beats being a ghost, though, doesn’t it?” Lucas pushed back from the table, too angry with himself to sit still. “If Bianca were a vampire, she’d still be here. She’d have her friends back, and she could go see her parents, and—nothing would have changed.”

Balthazar’s expression darkened, nearly to anger. “Everything would have changed for
her
. And you know that.”

“I could touch her,” Lucas whispered. “She would be here. I’m never going to touch Bianca again.”

Never? Really never?
The sorrow of it overwhelmed me. Then the kitchen suddenly looked very misty, became very far away.
No, not again!

The blue foggy nothingness swallowed me once more. I struggled against it, but I had no fists to fight with, no feet to plant firmly upon the ground. All my will seemed to count for nothing. In my misery and desperation, I felt as frightened and
bewildered as a lost child crying for her parents.

And then I wasn’t in the mist any longer.

Instead, I had appeared at Evernight.

I glanced around, trying to understand what this could be. I knew it wasn’t a memory because I was sitting on top of the gargoyle outside my bedroom window—not something I’d ever done before. It didn’t feel like a dream, either, though I couldn’t guess what wraiths’ dreams felt like, if they even had them.

No, weird though it was, the most logical guess was that I’d somehow just transported myself back to Evernight Academy. Maybe my afterlife assignment was to haunt Mrs. Bethany or something.

Peering downward, I saw the gargoyle’s scowl. Had I bruised his dignity by perching on top of his head?

For the first time since Vic’s attic, I had a definite sense of physical form. I could even see my feet dangling past the gargoyle’s claws. So I pressed my hands against the window glass, mostly just to do something with my hands, but also in hopes of peering inside.

When my fingertips touched the glass, frost flickered across the surface. I watched the tendrils spread in featherlike patterns, completely covering the pane. So much for snooping about what was going on in my old bedroom, but the effect was kind of cool.

Noise from the ground below made me look down. To my surprise, several trucks were parked on the driveway, and at least a dozen people seemed to be milling around. The other summers
I’d spent at Evernight Academy had been almost unbearably quiet. Nobody came to visit, save a few deliveries and the laundry service. So who were these people?

I realized the truth as soon as I recognized that they were all wearing coveralls. These were the workmen rebuilding Evernight.

Before that moment, I hadn’t heard much of anything—mostly, I thought, because I hadn’t been listening. How weird, to have to
choose
to hear. Now I could make out the growling of buzz saws and the thumping of hammers. Most of that seemed to be coming from the roof, but probably people were hard at work on the inside, too. Despite the fact that I loathed Evernight Academy, I hated Black Cross even more, so it gave me grim satisfaction to think that the damage done by Black Cross’s fire was being undone. Mrs. Bethany wouldn’t stand for anything else.

Then I heard a voice from inside my bedroom. “Adrian?”

That was Mom, calling my father.

I turned back to the window, eager to catch a glimpse of her, but frost still covered the pane of glass. That had to be what Mom was looking at.
Rub the glass!
I thought.
If you clear the glass, you can see me!

Footsteps echoed inside the apartment, coming closer. Then I heard Dad say, “Oh, my God.”

I pressed my hands against the glass eagerly. Too eagerly—the frost thickened, Now it would be even harder for them to see me. But they would, wouldn’t they?

“We knew the wraith would return.” Dad’s words were hard, even cold. “Mrs. Bethany warned us.”

“But here—in Bianca’s room—” Mom sounded like she was crying.

“I know,” Dad said quietly. “They’re still looking for her. At least we know they haven’t found her yet—that she’s still alive.”

Oh, Dad.
I covered my mouth with my hand, as though I could still cry and had to hold back the tears.

“And this time we can cast them out,” my mother said, voice shaking but determined.

What does she mean by that?
I tried to imagine what she could be referring to—some trick Mrs. Bethany had figured out, perhaps—

It hit me like a wall: a terrible rush of force pushed me away from the window, the gargoyle, Evernight Academy, and anything else that was real. The physical form I’d inhabited dissolved like a sand castle beneath a wave. I was too overwhelmed to know anything save that I was lost in the mist again, nothing and no one, a dead thing.

“Why did you go there?” Maxie demanded. Her presence, annoying though it was, served as my only touchstone in the swirling unreality of it all. “Do you want to be destroyed?”

“I’ve already been destroyed.”

“That’s what you think.” I could hear a sort of smug smile in her words. “It can be much, much worse than this.”

“How, exactly, does it get worse than
dead
? I can’t be with
my parents ever again. I can’t be with Lucas ever again.”

“True. Well, mostly true.”

“What do you mean,
mostly
true?”

“There’s one way you can say hello to your precious Lucas. It’s going to hurt both of you more than if you just did the decent thing and moved on—but you never know when to leave well enough alone, do you? Here—try
this
.”

I felt as though I were being thrown forward, and then I saw Lucas. He was still in the wine cellar, but now he was alone, lying on the floor, fully clothed but with a pillow beneath his head and a sheet pulled over him. I had the sense that it hadn’t been too long since I’d last seen him—it was probably afternoon at the latest—but I realized exhaustion must have demanded that he get some sleep. Balthazar was nowhere to be seen.

Lucas stirred fitfully beneath the sheet. For a moment, I wondered why he was asleep on the floor—before I remembered that I’d died in our bed. Probably Lucas didn’t even want to lie down on that bed alone.

“You said you wanted to be with him, right?” Maxie said.

“So,
do it
.”

Just like that, Lucas and I were in the bookstore in Amherst, alone in the basement room where the textbooks were kept. He was kneeling on the floor, holding an astronomy textbook in his hands. A comet trailed fire on the page.

“Lucas?” I said.

He looked up, and his eyes were instantly alight with relief
and wonder. “Bianca? You’re here?”

“Yeah, but—where’s here?”

Lucas dropped the book and clutched me in his embrace. The shock of feeling his arms around my back, of the welcome pressure of his body against mine, made me cry out in surprise and delight.

“You’re alive,” he whispered into my ear. “I thought you were dead. I was so sure you were dead.”

But I am dead.
“Lucas, where are we?”

“I was going to find you in the stars. See?” Instead of gesturing at the astronomy book he’d dropped on the floor, Lucas pointed upward. To my bewilderment, I saw not the ceiling of the bookstore but the night sky, sparkling and bright. Lucas said, “I knew I could find you there. Remember the part of
Romeo and Juliet
you quoted to me that time, when you were trying to convince me Juliet was an astronomer, too?”

I whispered, “‘Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars. And he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night, and pay no worship to the garish sun.’”

“Yeah,” he murmured into my hair. “That’s why I knew I could find you there.”

Understanding sank in. Sadly, I said, “This is a dream.”

“I’m not dreaming.” Lucas hugged me more tightly. “I won’t believe it.”

I was in Lucas’s dream. Raquel had told me about her ghost attacking her in her sleep; I should’ve realized the wraiths could
travel into sleeping minds. So I could be with Lucas but only in his dreams? It was so little, and yet at least it was something to hold on to. “Every night,” I promised him. “Every night, I’ll be here for you.”

“It’s not enough. I need you. Don’t let this be a dream.”

The reality around us vanished in an instant. Once again, I seemed to float very near the ceiling, looking down at Lucas, whose eyes had just opened. He grimaced and rubbed his face with one hand. In some ways, he looked even more tired than he had that morning.

“Bianca? Are you there?” he said. I couldn’t answer him, but he understood anyway. “You’ll always be there, I guess. Just too far away to touch.”

Being with him in dreams would give me some comfort, I realized, but it would only torment Lucas. He wouldn’t be able to hold on to the experiences the same way I could. More than that, I wasn’t sure I could make him understand that our togetherness in dreams was real. If I visited him every night, all I would accomplish would be to make him grieve for me anew, over and over again.

Lucas rolled onto one side, punching the pillow beneath his head to provide more support. “I dreamed about you,” he said. “I was in a bookstore, and I was trying to find you—I don’t remember how—God, it’s already slipping away. But you were there. Your being dead was all some big mistake, and I could hold you again. Pretty great dream—until I woke up.”

With a sigh, he threw off the sheets and rose from the floor. He moved stiffly, and I realized he had to be sore. Just as he pulled a carton of juice from the minifridge, I heard footsteps outside. Lucas went to the door and opened it before Balthazar could even knock.

Instead of
hello
or
how are you
, Balthazar said, “You were right about Charity.”

“News flash: I already knew that.” The venom had gone out of Lucas’s jabs at Balthazar, but apparently that didn’t mean he was going to stop making them. “You find her?”

“I found someone who knows her. Which means Charity will be aware that I’m in Philadelphia soon, if she doesn’t already.”

“You just let the vampire run off to play messenger?” Lucas took a deep swig of juice straight from the carton. “Not smart.”

Balthazar scowled. “I don’t stake people the first second they could be trouble, which is one of the many differences between us.”

“I guess this means you’ve got to run, huh?”

“I don’t run from a fight,” Balthazar said. “And I’m not abandoning my sister to this kind of existence.”

“Nobody’s making her act like that,” Lucas said as he stowed the juice back in the fridge. “You ought to know that by now. Or did you know it the whole time?”

Balthazar didn’t answer that question. “If I can separate her from her tribe, Charity will come around.”

“What are you going to do? Just keep her locked in a room for a century until she agrees with you?”

“Yes.”

“Man, your relationship is really screwed up.”

“Do you have a better plan for dealing with her?” Balthazar demanded. “Staking is not an option.”

“Says you.” Lucas took a deep breath. “So you want my help on this kidnapping run?”

Balthazar clearly didn’t like having to turn to Lucas for help, but he nodded. “You can handle yourself in a fight. And Charity won’t expect the two of us to cooperate. We could use the element of surprise.”

“When?”

“She’ll make her move at sundown. So, a couple of hours.” Like all vampires, Balthazar could sense how far away sunset and sunrise were. “The sooner we get out there, the better.”

Lucas didn’t need to go after Charity tonight. Really, I wished he wouldn’t go after her ever. She was dangerous, and no matter how good a fighter Lucas was or how strong I’d made him by drinking his blood, Charity would always be stronger. With her tribe by her side, I didn’t see how he and Balthazar could prevail.

But most of the time, I would at least have confidence that Lucas could get through it alive. Now he was exhausted and in mourning. Balthazar, blinded by his own guilt or grief or both, was foolishly taking the two of them out on a suicide mission.

Did Lucas know that? Horror overcame me as I realized that, probably, he did.

I watched him throw on a flannel shirt and lace up his shoes. Dread gnawed at me. Did Lucas think that, if he died, we would be together again? Or was his life not worth anything to him anymore? It was worth something to me. I wanted him to live and be safe and happy for both of us.

Lucas looked like he didn’t care about any of that.

When he was almost done preparing, Lucas paused and went to the small drawer where I’d kept my things. His hand closed around the jet brooch he’d given me—it seemed like so long ago—and I could tell he was trying to take strength from it, the way I always had. Quickly he tucked it into the pocket of his shirt.

Oh, Balthazar, I could kill you for this. Please stop, guys, please.

Balthazar leaned against one of the wine racks, so obviously tired and sad that I took pity on him for a second. Then Lucas said, “Let’s get out there.”

“We need weapons,” Balthazar said.

Lucas, who had never gone out for a Black Cross hunt or even a visit with me without being armed to the teeth, said only, “We’ll figure something out.”

They walked out the door, and I meant to follow—but I couldn’t. About halfway down the path to the driveway, I found I couldn’t go any farther. I seemed to be stuck there, watching them climb into Balthazar’s car.

As Lucas settled into the shotgun seat, I saw his eyes narrow as he looked at the spot where I stood. As Balthazar gunned the car’s motor into life, and they sped off, he turned his head away. Maybe he wondered if he saw something; probably he figured it was only a trick of the light.

LONG AFTER BALTHAZAR’S CAR HAD DISAPPEARED down the road, I stayed where I was, looking forlornly into the distance. I had no reason to remain outdoors, but apparently I’d be haunting the wine cellar forever. So I’d be sick of that place soon enough.

“You’re more than a little pathetic, you know.”

“Shut up, Maxie,” I muttered.

“How about you shut up and actually listen to me for a change?” Maxie’s presence became more substantial. The first thing I could see was not her hair or her body but one arched, skeptical eyebrow, as if she were some snarky version of the Cheshire cat. “I can help you, you know. And I know the others who could help you, too. So it might be a good time to stop treating me like something you scraped off the bottom of your shoe.”

“How can you help me when I’m already dead?”

It was a rhetorical question, but she answered. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

“Okay.”

Maxie took shape at last, but as she became more solid, the lawn around me became misty and translucent. Before I knew it, we were inside the wine cellar, standing near the bed where I’d died.

“That’s a little more like it.” Her smile looked too satisfied for my taste, but she really did have the advantage. “I figured you’d come around eventually.”

“I haven’t ‘come around’ to anything,” I spat. “You guys fought the vampires for me. You won. Either way, I lost.”

“You act like there was some possibility for you to have a normal life. Well, guess what? That was never going to happen. You were born to join the undead. That’s your nature—who you are and why you’re here. Blaming me for it is ridiculous.”

“I think you’ve been dead so long that you’ve forgotten what being alive means.”

Maxie cocked her head. “You’re probably right. It’ll happen to you, too.”

Forget being alive? Never. Forgetting life would mean forgetting so many wonderful things; it would mean forgetting Lucas. And that could never happen. “You say you can help me. I suggest you prove it.”

“Fine.” Maxie gestured toward the little cardboard drawers where I’d kept my things. “Get your coral bracelet.”

“What is it with you and the jewelry?”

“Pick up your bracelet and you’ll see.”

How did she expect me to pick anything up? It wasn’t like I
had real hands any longer, only the illusion. Thinking I would show Maxie how stupid her suggestion was, I scooped my fingers into the open drawer—and felt the silver and coral, wonderfully solid. I brought the bracelet up and stared at the hazy reflection in the glass window of the microwave: a shimmering blue light in which a bracelet dangled, apparently suspended in midair. I was too amazed to say a word.

Maxie tossed her blond hair with a smirk. “Told ya.”

“How is this even possible?”

“Material objects that we bonded to strongly before we died—like the door of your house, maybe, or a diary or in your case some jewelry you cared about a whole lot—connect us to the real world. You’re lucky, too, because that’s coral. Coral is one of the most powerful materials for us, because we’ve got something in common. Can you guess what it is?”

“We were both once alive.” I touched the red coral and imagined its life beneath the sea, so long ago.

Maxie didn’t look thrilled that I’d guessed correctly and stolen her thunder. “Well. All of us can use things and places like that. Since you’re a born wraith, one of the pure ones, I guess you’ll be pretty good at it. With a lot of practice, you might be able to do something with that bracelet. See why I told you not to let Lucas bury it with you?”

“Thanks.” For the first time my gratitude was completely sincere. Instead of lording that over me, Maxie dropped her eyes, almost bashful. “What do you mean, ‘do something?’”

“I’ve heard that wraiths like you—well, you might be able to
get a physical body back, at least for a little while. Supposedly it takes a lot of practice—though….”

Maxie’s voice trailed off as I concentrated hard on the bracelet in my grip. I remembered Lucas giving it to me, the love between us on that day, and that made the stones seem even more real. First I willed all my strength into the hand holding the bracelet and—to my amazement—the hand appeared in the reflection. The solidity swept through me, like a warm sort of shudder, and then I stood there, my reflection identical to the way it had been a few days ago when I lived, albeit a little paler. A smile spread across my face as I knocked against the wall and heard it thump, then tossed the covers on the bed and watched them obediently flip back.

“Well, that was quick,” Maxie said crossly.

“I have a body.” I laughed, and it felt like a laugh. No, it wasn’t being alive; there was no joy or warmth in this body, and I knew it wasn’t my home. But at least I had substance again. If Lucas were here, I could hug him, even kiss him; we could talk like normal people. “This is incredible.”

“You won’t be able to have a body all the time. Even Christopher can’t do that.” Maxie seemed to enjoy diminishing my pleasure, although it was beyond her power to ruin it. “And it won’t really fix anything. But at least you can get some stuff done this way.”

I sighed. “This is definitely the best thing to happen to me since I died.”

Then I wondered who this Christopher person was, but I
didn’t have time to ask her about him. A car’s tires crunched on the gravel driveway, and excitement made me leap toward the door—which I now had to open instead of floating through. I believed it would be Balthazar and Lucas returning home. Surely Balthazar had thought better of taking Lucas on a hunt tonight. Instead, I saw a sunshine yellow convertible pulling up; inside rode Vic and Ranulf.

“What are they doing back?” I muttered. Maxie peeked over my shoulder. “Oh, wait—Lucas said he wrote Vic and told him I was sick. He must have convinced his parents to let him leave Tuscany so he could come back to look in on me.”

“Then he’s running a bit late,” Maxie pointed out.

Ignoring her, I turned and ran toward the driveway. She shouted, “What are you doing?”

“Saying hello to my friends!”

“You can’t just go out there—Bianca, you’re dead!”

I wondered if that meant some invisible force field or something would stop me, but it didn’t. When I bounded out into the yard, Vic’s face lit up in a grin, and Ranulf gave me a quick wave.

“Hey there, Binks,” Vic called. “Looks like you’re on the mend!”

“Vic!” I hugged him tightly, and I’d never been so glad simply to be able to hug another person. He smelled like cologne, which I usually found stinky, but it was the first thing I’d really smelled since I died. Who knew men’s cologne could smell so fantastic? “Oh, I missed you.”

“Likewise,” he said. “Sorry I woke you up. Or are you still recuperating?”

Vic was talking about the pajamas I still wore. Apparently the coral bracelet couldn’t do anything about them. “It’s kind of a long story. Also a weird story.”

“Come on.” Vic straightened his trucker cap on his head, like he was getting ready for serious business. “How much weirder could our story get?”

“You’d be surprised,” I said weakly.

Ranulf straightened, and his gaze shifted from friendliness to wariness. “Vic,” he said, “something is very different about Bianca.”

“Huh?” Vic looked between me and Ranulf, not getting it.

“She feels a little clammy, but that’s about it.”

“Her very nature is changed.” Ranulf’s eyes narrowed. For the first time, he did not look like an innocent; I caught a glimpse of the fiercer man he must have been long ago. “I do not think she is still a vampire.”

“What?” Vic grinned. “All human now? Bianca, that’s awesome.”

“That’s not quite how it went,” I said. “Can you guys come inside? We really need to talk, and you have to find Lucas.”

Vic started to follow me inside; Ranulf, still suspicious, came along, too, but hung back several steps. “What’s wrong with Lucas?” Vic asked. “Where did he go?”

“He left with Balthazar.”

“Balthazar? Your ex?” Vic’s eyebrows rose so high they vanished beneath the brim of his hat. “Okay, this is getting good.”

“Let’s just get inside, okay?” As I gestured toward the door, the bracelet slipped from my fingers. The moment that hap
pened, I disappeared—or almost disappeared, since a blue, smoky image remained where my arm had just been.

Vic jumped back so fast he nearly fell over. “What the what?”

“She is no longer a vampire,” Ranulf said, steadying himself like he expected a fight. “She is a wraith.”

“A wraith? You mean, a ghost? Bianca’s a ghost? That’s impossible.”

Concentrating hard, I managed to close my hand around the bracelet again and will my form back into being. Vic and Ranulf stared at me, slack jawed, the whole time. Neither of them spoke a word.

Once I had my shape back, I said, “It’s possible. I’m a wraith now. And, no, Ranulf, I’m not going to hurt you. The old war between ghosts and vampires—as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t have anything to do with me and the people I love.”

Ranulf didn’t look touched, but he didn’t turn away, either.

I asked, “Now are you going to let me explain?”

Vic swallowed hard and nodded. “I think you’d better.”

Half an hour later, as the sky outside darkened, Vic, Ranulf, and I sat around the little table while they took in what I’d just told them. Ranulf, who naturally understood more about the strange rules that governed the undead, seemed to be taking it in. Vic, on the other hand, looked completely flummoxed.

“Okay,” Vic said, “let me see if I have this straight. You died.”

“Yes.” That was never going to get easier to admit, I thought.

“Balthazar showed up, and he and Lucas buried you in the backyard.”

“Right.”

“So there’s a dead body in my backyard, which I have to explain to my parents somehow.”

“I don’t think they’ll find it—it’s behind the grounds, kind of—and, anyway, isn’t that kind of beside the point?”

“Not really,” Vic said. “Don’t get me wrong. Compared to the rest of what’s going on, it’s not that big a deal. I understand that you’re having a way, way worse week than I am. Okay? But that doesn’t make it any easier for me to explain to my parents about the
dead body in the backyard
.”

I sighed. “True.”

“I suggest pulling some greenery over the location,” Ranulf said.

“That’s your total contribution to this discussion?” I asked.

“Yes.” Ranulf appeared unruffled. “I will say what is useful. That is the only useful suggestion I have at this point.”

Vic pointed at him, two finger-guns of approval. “I like a man who knows the value of words, doesn’t spend ’em too cheap.”

Ranulf nodded. “That is the manner in which I roll.”

With that, Vic turned back to me. His expression seemed odd until I realized that I’d never seen him this serious before. “Bianca, I hate that this happened to you. If I couldn’t look you in the eye and say that—if you weren’t just dead but, you know,
dead
dead—I don’t even want to think about it. Maybe things
can’t be like they were before, but—if there’s a way—we can still be friends, right?”

I felt like I’d never smiled before, at least not for real. “We’re friends no matter what,” I said. “And you’re the best person I ever met.”

Vic ducked his head, surprisingly bashful. “So, how did you figure all this stuff out?”

“Your ghost helped me,” I explained. “Her name is Maxie.”

“What? My ghost has a
name
?”

“Why wouldn’t she?” It seemed offensive to assume that ghosts wouldn’t have names. We’d all been people once, hadn’t we? Then I realized I was thinking of ghosts as “we” already.

“If she can appear, how come she never appeared to me?” It was Vic’s turn to be offended. Clearly, he thought of Maxie as
his
ghost.

“She didn’t want to scare you. Maxie?” I called to her, though I knew she’d probably been eavesdropping on our every word. “Hey, Vic wants to meet you. Come say hello!”

“I am socializing with wraiths,” Ranulf muttered. “This is not a thing that is done.”

To Ranulf, Vic said, “Remember what I said about social conformity being the prison of the mind?” Vic’s sandy hair stuck out from the brim of his trucker cap, so unruly it made him look a little wild in his eagerness as he spoke again, this time to Maxie. “We’re all nonconformists here, so, you know, drop on by.”

Why did you tell him my name?
I could see Maxie without
seeing her—as a vision in my mind, the same way she’d briefly appeared to me in the attic.
He doesn’t need to know who I am!

“She’s talking to me,” I said to Vic and Ranulf. “Not aloud. I think she’s shy.”

“Aw, man.” Vic looked around the wine cellar avidly. Maybe he thought he might glimpse Maxie hiding between the bottles.

“Seriously, Maxie, it’s okay. Come say hi.”

I’m not coming out there.

So far as I could tell from the tone of her “voice,” Maxie felt genuinely terrified at the thought of finally seeing Vic face-to-face. Apparently his opinion meant a lot to her.

I realized I could use that to my advantage. Was that playing fair? I decided it was at least as fair as the wraith trying to freeze me to death. My best chance of getting good information from her was to ask now, while he was a witness. “She’s agreeing to help me out,” I said loudly. “Can you explain more about how the bracelet works, Maxie? I just want to understand.”

Maxie’s consternation felt obvious, at least to me. Ranulf and Vic were both staring at the ceiling, as if wraiths were dangling from above like a chandelier. Vic muttered, “I have
got
to get a Ouija board.”

Well?
I thought to her.
You don’t want to let Vic down, do you?

Like you even need my help
, she snapped.
You can already walk around and hug people. I never could get solid like that, and look at you now. Bet you could walk around the whole day.

“I can pretty much act naturally while I’ve got the bracelet,”
I said to Vic and Ranulf. I couldn’t wait to surprise Lucas. He’d be so happy. Well, first he’d probably be scared out of his wits. But after that, he would see that there could still be some kind of future for us. We had a lot to mourn for; my lost life killed so many possibilities. Already I dreaded the long stretch of centuries that would follow after Lucas was gone. Nevertheless, it was more than I’d had before. “Does the same thing apply to the jet brooch? The one he took with him?”