In the Dark (28 page)

Oh, well.
I’ll know once I get there.

I turned my car
towards home, singing along with the radio and doing my best to act
like everything was fine. Considering no one was trying to kill me,
things had overall improved a lot since last week. I kept telling
myself that.

Another car
pulled in behind me as I took the corner that led to my street. My
stomach jumped, then settled as I recognized Josephine’s
Porsche. I flashed my lights to let her know I saw her. She flashed
hers back. I laughed, flashed them again, twice, and laughed more
when she flashed hers twice. When I pulled into my drive, she parked
on the street.

There were
lights on in my place; Amanda was home. Safe from her trip out to
eat. I hadn’t realized I’d been worried about her until I
saw she was home. Maybe that was the reason I wanted to head home so
bad. Just to check on her.

I got out of my
car, watching Josephine, thinking about my sister in the house and
one of my vampire friends outside. This could get interesting.

“Hey
Josephine,” I called as she got out of her car.

She waved back,
close enough that I could see the smile on her face. It made me
smile, too. “Hello,” she called. “Busy?”

I waited in my
drive for her to join me before I answered, watching her graceful
movements. She offered me a hand and squeezed mine when I took it.

“A little
busy,” I answered. “I’m going out, and my sister is
here visiting. I just stopped by to – change,” I covered
my mother hen routine as fast as I could.

Josephine
smiled. “Check up on her, you mean. I know what it’s like
when you first start hanging around mortals.”

I didn’t
blush, but only because I couldn’t. Instead I shuffled my feet
and nodded.

“I’d
like to meet her, if you don’t mind.” The way she pitched
her voice told me more: she was lonely. She didn’t want to
intrude on us, but she wanted to be around people for a while.

“Yeah,”
I said immediately, thinking that I couldn’t just ditch her
after what we’d been through. And that she might even help with
talking to Amanda. “Yeah, it’d probably be good for
Amanda to meet others besides me.”

Her eyebrows
twitched. “You’ve told her, then?”

I watched for
signs of approval or disapproval, then nodded. Carefully.

“Well, of
course.” Josephine touched my arm. “What else could you
have done?”

I nearly melted
into a little puddle of relief. “I’m not sure how much
she believes.”

“Well,
then I’d definitely like to meet her.”

“Sure,”
I said. “C’mon in.”

I turned and let
myself into the house.

It hit me like a
wall.

The smell.

Red everywhere.
On my wall, on my furniture. Dripping bright, bright red. And the
smell. Sweet-salt metallic blood, the smell of someone on the inside,
a smell that was never meant to be outside –

And Amanda,
sprawled in the middle of the living room floor, smeared with red,
eyes wide, her throat torn. Leaking still, spilling onto her shirt.

“My god,”
Josephine murmured, miles behind me.

Amanda’s
eyes rolled to meet mine, glassy, barely seeing.

“Jen?”

I scrambled in
the door, fell to her side. Part of me was looking for the cause of
all the blood, sure it couldn’t be her. The other part had
already seen and knew the damage was bad.

“You’re
gonna be okay,” I said senselessly. I was supposed to say that,
so she didn’t freak out and die of shock. “You’ll
be fine, you’ll be just fine, don’t worry.” Then I
saw the rip in her throat more clearly. It had to be recent,
very
recent. It was deep. Bleeding awfully. If she’d gotten it more
than a minute ago, she’d be dead by now. Whoever did this had
to be nearby – but that didn’t concern me as much as
Amanda. She couldn’t possibly hold out for more than another
minute.

I pressed both
hands over the wound. “Call an ambulance!” I screamed at
Josephine. I looked up to scream at her again, but she had her cell
out, her lips pinched together, her eyes locked on the wall. I turned
to look at it –

CAIN.

In big, red
letters. Dripping letters.

“Jen.”
I looked down at Amanda, but her eyes didn’t see me. “Doesn’t
hurt anymore . . .”

Oh, no, no,
hell, no!

“Stay with
me!” I yelled at her. I pulled my green blanket off the couch
and threw it over her, keeping one hand over the wound to apply some
pressure – not too hard, that would suffocate her brain –
my fingers were slippery with blood that wouldn’t stop coming.

“Sebastian?”
I heard Josephine say behind me. “I’m at Ian’s. We
need you
now.”

Sebastian?

“Ambulance!”
I screamed. Yeah, great, maybe we could sic Sebastian after whoever
had done this, but not until we saved my sister!

“Jen,”
she croaked, her voice fading. “Jen . . . don’t . . .”

She relaxed
suddenly, limp as a rag.

“Amanda?”
I gave her a shake. She didn’t respond. I shook her again.
Still nothing. “No, no, no, no.”

I repeated to
myself she wasn’t too cold, not too still, she was hurt but
alive, she had to be – but she didn’t move, not when I
shook her, not when I yelled.

“Ian,”
Josephine said quietly. I ignored her.

I clamped my
mouth down over Amanda’s, tilted her head back, remembered
everything my CPR teacher had shown us like I’d taken the class
yesterday, one, two, three, breathe.

“Ian,”
Josephine said again, while I pounded Amanda’s chest. “Ian,
they drank her.”

One, two, three,
breathe . . .

“Ian!”

I ignored her,
kept pumping Amanda’s chest, kept breathing for her, I didn’t
have to worry about passing out, just had to keep breathing, one,
two, three, breathe . . .

It went on
forever. She had to be gone. But if I kept at it long enough, refused
to give up, maybe she’d be okay. Maybe.

A hand on my
chest as I went to breathe again, stopping me. I tried to fight,
tried to get my air to her – the hand held me back.

“Ian, they
drank her. She has no blood.”

I stared at
Josephine. Her eyes were damp. Sebastian stood behind her. I hadn’t
noticed him come in. How long had I been trying to do CPR on Amanda?
Sebastian’s face looked dark, his eyes troubled. Sad.

“No
blood?” I said.

Josephine shook
her head, but I wasn’t asking her. I was remembering.

No blood.

I have to
replace it. First there has to be no blood, then I have to replace
it. Kent told me that, to prepare me, before he did it, drank me dry
and gave me his.

I can still
save her!

I grabbed my
wrist in my teeth and pulled. They sliced in deeper than I thought
they would. I got scared, then remembered it would heal while I
slept. Sliced skin hung loose from the wound I pressed to Amanda’s
mouth.

A hand grabbed
mine away from her.

“Ian,
think about what you’re doing.”

Sebastian.

“When it’s
your goddamn sister you can stop and think!” I screamed at him.
Wrenched my hand away from him. He let me, watching me with flat,
dark eyes. I shoved my wrist to her mouth again, holding my arm so
the blood would trickle down. It would only drip until she sucked it.

I felt a drop
fall, felt it leave me and heard it plop onto her tongue.

Nothing.

Another drop
worked its way out, splatting against the first. “Come on,”
I muttered. Got up high on my knees so more blood would work its way
down.

Another drop.
Another. Plop. Plop. Plop. I could hear it pattering on her tongue.

Had her lips
twitched?

Plop. Plop.

Again. Her
tongue moved, a swallow, definitely a swallow. Her lips did twitch
this time, barely closing on my skin.

“Yes, come
on!” I whispered. “Come on!”

More blood left
me, drop by slow drop. She swallowed again, a tiny flash of her
throat.

“Amanda,
please,” I begged. “Drink, please!”

Her lips closed
harder on my wrist and she sucked. A pathetic movement, but a suck
that brought a few more drops out. She paused. Took a breath. The
second suck was not so pathetic. The third, painful, pulling blood
out of me so that my arm tingled. My stomach opened up in hunger. Her
hand raised and clamped over my arm, pressing it to her mouth. I
hissed through my teeth.

Her green eyes
flicked open, watching me, no hint of recognition in them. Animal.
Had I looked like this? Glaring up at Kent as if he meant nothing but
food? I shivered.

“Ian,”
said a soft voice. Josephine. She held her own slit wrist for me. I
met her eyes, asking if she meant it – she nodded. I took it
gratefully and let Amanda have mine. It didn’t exactly solve
the problem – as fast as I could swallow, so could Amanda. But
the sharp edge faded from my own hunger.

With no warning,
Amanda let my arm go with a gasp. Before I could feel relief, she
screamed. Her back arched, her head thrown back. I dropped
Josephine’s wrist and held my sister until the sound stopped.
Remembering the pain.

Her scream
trailed off into an agonized groan, then fell quiet. I held her
close.

And then I
waited. For what, I didn’t know. A motion, maybe, or a whimper.
Some sign it had worked. Amanda stayed still.

No one else
moved either. I didn’t know if I should worry or not. I reached
to feel for her pulse –
stupid. What pulse?

I fluttered
anxious hands over her. How did I check? Josephine knelt beside me,
answering my question by pulling back Amanda’s lips. She
pressed her finger to one canine, then took it back to study the tip.
Satisfied by that, she pulled Amanda’s eyes open. The pupils
shrank to points.

“It
worked.” Josephine sat back. “She’s your daughter
now.”

I know I made
some kind of noise in response to that.

I still don’t
know exactly what.

O
vercome,
disgusted, angry, and above all terrified – he hadn’t
thought he was capable of terror any longer – Sebastian turned
away. Left. Went back out to the Vector.

He could think
only one thing, one idea, over and over. If he’d known what to
do the night he’d taken Sarah – no. That was vile. A
nightmarish thought.

And yet it came:

If I’d
known what to do, I wouldn’t have lost her.

I
an
heaved a sigh. It was a loaded sigh, heavy with things unspoken.
Sebastian turned from the word on the wall – his name –
to look at her. Her skin had gone waxy and white from hunger. Her
eyes remained riveted on the motionless form of her sister, sprawled
on the floor, eyes closed in sleep. A sleep very close to death.
Sleeping vampires moved – very little, but they did. Not so the
new ones. This was the sleep of transformation. No dreams. No motion.
Only this frightening stillness. Fortunately, Amanda had fed
sufficiently from Ian, enabling her to fall into this sleep rather
than remain conscious in order to search for blood – as he had
the night of his own change.

“What does
it mean?” Josephine asked, looking at the wall. The blood had
begun slowly drying to a red-brown. The metallic scent saturated the
room. Overwhelming, if he cared to breathe.

“It is my
name.”

Her green eyes
stared back at him, flat, unamused. He stared back. He hadn’t
meant it as a joke.

“Why is it
here?”
she asked, her voice firmer. “This is Ian’s
house.”

He stared back
at her, waiting to see if she realized. When he saw her eyes widen,
he nodded.

“Someone
you know is here,” she said. “But why kill – I
mean, Ian’s sister – I –” she paused, then
shook her head. “This is humor for them. This is common, how
they say hello.”

“Not
quite.”

The sound of a
car pulling up on the street silenced him. He turned to the window to
watch it as it came to a stop in front of the house. The headlights
went out and the driver cut the engine. Josephine watched with him,
statue-still.

It was not a car
Sebastian knew. Perhaps the challenger returning to instigate the
challenge? His eyes narrowed. He intended to answer this challenge,
but not here, in Ian’s home. He slipped across the room to put
himself beside the door, fingers touching the hilt of his sword. Ian
looked up, sluggish at first, then with fear as she saw Sebastian
taking position. He put a finger to his lips and she nodded, getting
to her feet between Amanda and the door. She would stop no one who
wanted Amanda, but he did not discourage her. It made Ian feel better
– and Sebastian had no intention of letting anyone have any of
the people in this house.

Feet walked up
the pavement to the door, smooth, easy steps. A man, Sebastian
guessed, slightly taller than himself.

Specter . . . ?

Sebastian flexed
his fingers on the hilt of his sword.

The strange man
gave a solid rap on the door, then started to come in without waiting
for an answer. Sebastian drew his sword, slowly, silently.

The door
stopped, not yet open. The man on the stairs breathed in. Catching
the scent of blood, perhaps. Noting the scent of new vampires.

Sebastian
tensed. Now the stranger would act.

As he thought
it, footsteps echoed a rush from the front door back down the drive.
Not the expected response.

Sebastian threw
himself out the door, sword drawn. Leaped the stairs, landed and
pelted after the stranger.

A man, as
expected, unfamiliar and in a suit, long dark hair pulled back.
Sebastian memorized what he could see of him. The man reached the car
he’d arrived in, dove in, started it, and pulled out with a
shriek of tires. Sebastian shoved his fist through the window of the
car as it peeled away, raking his hand with glass, too late.