Intangible (12 page)

“Yes, honey, I’m fine.” She squeezed Sera’s hands. She stood up, then leaned over to kiss Sera’s head. “Goodnight, love.”

Sera watched her mom close the door, and heard the shower turn on in the bathroom. That meant she had about fifteen minutes in which to cram some relaxation.

Back on her mat, she breathed again, slow and deep. Just as she inhaled to begin another sun salutation, there was a tapping on her window.

She jumped at the noise, tripped over her feet and fell on the floor.

Tap, tap, tap
again.

Fighting to slow her breathing enough to be able to talk—or scream for help—she crept over to the window and parted the curtains.

Tall, dark, and Jonas. Fey’s friend. Or acquaintance. Or…well, she wasn’t sure what he was to Fey. Though she didn’t know who she’d expected to find here, he hadn’t even made the list of possibles.

He motioned for her to come outside. She just looked at him, unsure what to do. She could close the curtains and ignore him. Though he might just start tapping again. She didn’t think he’d go knock on the front door since he started with the window, but she wasn’t sure about that. She could go get Fey, except she was in the shower.

Fey. That’s it. He must be there to talk to Fey, and had known she was spending the night. Sera exhaled in relief, and smiled at him through the window. That made sense. She wondered if he was an ex-boyfriend. Or maybe even the current one. She never knew with Fey.

She opened the window. “Fey can’t come out quite yet. She’s in the shower.” Crisp autumn air billowed the curtains, swirled into her room. She breathed it in gratefully. It smelled cold, sharp. The first hint of the winter to come.

“I didn’t come for Fey. I want to talk to you.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “What about?”

“Meghan.”

She stared at him in silence, felt a cold prickling sensation wash over her. He knew something.

“Just a minute,” she said, then turned away from the window and looked around her room. She grabbed a grey hooded sweater that was draped over her desk chair. She pulled it over her head, flipped her hair out of it, and then started to climb out the window.

“What are you doing?” he said. His words were clipped, sharp.

“Coming out.” She paused, sitting astride the window ledge, brow furrowed as she looked at him. It occurred to her then that perhaps he’d expected her to come out the front door, which probably would have been a better idea. But she continued out anyway, jumping down to the ground with an almost graceful hop, happy she hadn’t fallen on her butt in front of him. She wrapped her arms around herself, snuggling more tightly into her sweater, and waited, wishing she’d thought to put on shoes.

He stared at her for a moment, then spoke in a tight voice, each word distinct: “What. Have. You. Done?”

“I’m sorry? What?”

“To Meghan.”

She could feel his anger like hot needles pricking her skin.

“Nothing,” she said. “I tried to help her until the ambulance came, but she ran away.” His glare made her take a step back toward her window and she winced as she stepped on a rock. “Is she okay?”

“You changed her.”

“I did what?”

“She’s human.”

“Um…yeah.” She was going to need a lot more painting and yoga after this conversation. “We’re all human.”

“Not all of us. Not anymore.”

At that, Sera hadn’t a clue what to say to him. Her mind grappled with some way to respond.

“Okay.” She looked around, back at the house and her windows. She wished Luke would show up like he usually did. However, it looked like she was on her own. “Then what are you?” she said slowly.

“Vampires.” He was serious. And very possibly clinically insane.

“Funny,” she said. “But vampires don’t exist. Did Fey put you up to this?”

“We
do
exist,” he said. “We’ve always existed.”

She looked down at her bare toes practically glowing against the darkness of the damp grass. Shoes would have been nice in case she needed to run away, which was looking more and more likely the longer she talked to him. Plus, her feet were freezing.

A light went on in a room upstairs, and she heard the neighbor’s dog bark at their back door. Jonas, in the dim light from the house, was as striking as he’d been when she’d literally bumped into him a few days ago. His deep brown skin looked satin smooth, his eyes dark and intense. If he wasn’t glaring at her she might actually enjoy his company. That wasn’t exactly the case at the moment.

“If you and your friends are vampires, then what were you doing walking around during the day?”

“We’ve evolved over thousands of years, like everything else on Earth. Some walk during the day, only the Old Ones are limited to the night.”

“Okay, see, now you’re making this up,” she said, shaking her head. “Well, then prove it. Turn into a bat.” Her feet were cold and this day was wearing thin. She squinted at him in the dark. “I thought so,” she said. “You can’t. You know what? It’s been a long, weird day, and I’m tired. And I really don’t see what this has to do with me.” She glanced back at her window again, this time calculating whether she could scamper back inside before he could grab her. Probably not. She wasn’t that agile. Hopefully Fey would be done soon.

“You’ve changed one of us back to human. Meghan.”

He really
was
crazy.

“I helped her,” she said again. “Nothing else. I didn’t do anything to her.”

She was getting cold and grumpy, and wanted to go back inside. She rubbed her arms to try to generate more heat in her body. It didn’t help.

“You healed her.” His voice was a deadly whisper. Her eyes suddenly locked on his. He had her attention now. “It changed her.”

Sera went completely still. This. Wasn’t. Possible. She shook her head. He couldn’t know that. She wracked her brain for an explanation. For some good reason he was saying this to her. Maybe he was just a lunatic with a lucky guess. No normal person would believe that she could heal.

“Sera?” Fey poked her towel-wrapped head out the open window. A quick glance at Jonas and she was out the window and planted firmly between them in one seamless move. Sera blinked in surprise, looking from Fey back to the window several yards away.

“What’s going on?” Fey faced Jonas, fierce. “What are you doing here?”

“You know why I’m here, Feyth.”

Fey seemed to get taller as she stood glaring at him.

“This is between you and me, Jonas,” Fey said. “Leave Sera out of it. She doesn’t know.”

Sera wasn’t sure if she was relieved or offended by that. She certainly didn’t relish talking with Jonas anymore tonight, but she was insulted by Fey’s tone. One that suggested she was a mere child who couldn’t possibly understand what was going on.

So what if she didn’t actually know what was going on.

Still. It pissed her off.

Fey turned to Sera, her damp hair glinting in the light spilling out of the bedroom window, her eyes glowing. Eyes that pleaded with her to go back inside. Sera straightened up to her full height, lifted her chin, and stalked over to stand beneath her open window. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the house, watching them and feeling her bare feet begin to go numb at the edges. There was no way she was going to leave Fey outside by herself—not even if her feet fell off from cold—but she would, at the very least, give them privacy.

And then grill Fey about it later.

J
onas stood glaring at Sera a moment longer. “You are warned,” he said. “Do not change any more of us.” He could swear she rolled her eyes at him as he turned and paced over to the edge of the yard where Fey waited for him under the oak tree.

The lack of moonlight wasn’t a problem for him. He could see perfectly well. In fact, his eyes were better suited to night than they were to daylight. He could easily make out every detail of the yard—the tree roots fanning out from the base of the trees that fenced the yard, the flowers planted along the perimeter inside the line of trees, the oranges and reds of the flower petals on those still in bloom, the individual bright green blades of grass glistening with evening dew. He kicked a small stone buried in the grass through the wall of trees and into the neighbor’s yard, and heard the slight
thup
when it landed.

“You knew.” His voice was low, quiet. “You should have told me. Warned me that they were here.”

“And you would have done what? How would it have changed anything?”

“I would have been prepared. My people would have been prepared.”

“To do what, Jonas? Kill them?” Fey said. “That’s what your people will want to do when they learn about them, and you know that. So explain to me why exactly I should have tipped you off seventeen years ago. They would have been found sooner and someone would have tried to kill them again.”

“They’ve been found now.”

“Not yet, they haven’t.”

He glared at Fey for a moment before his eyes flicked back to Sera standing against the house, watching them. It was strange, he thought, that she hadn’t gone back inside to where she’d think she was safe. He knew he’d scared her, he could tell by the frantic beat of her heart, how her face had gone pale when he’d talked of healing and changing. Though she was odd. She hadn’t been the least bit afraid when he’d spoken of vampires, but as soon as he’d mentioned healing she’d been terrified. And yet, there she stood scowling at him from afar, looking ready to leap in if Fey needed help.

But Fey needed no help. She came from the most powerful family in either world. You never crossed them twice—you never got the chance.

And of course it was Fey. Or her father. Or her siblings. Uncles, aunts, cousins, it didn’t matter. It could have been any of them. He still would have been in exactly the same position he was in now.

Screwed.

“They had to live somewhere,” Fey said, interrupting his thoughts. “And they are not the threat the Prophecy says they could be. I know them, Jonas. I’ve known them their whole lives and that’s not who they are. So I won’t let you or your kind get to them. Nor will my people.”

“Is that a threat, Feyth?” He spoke each word slowly.

“It is if it needs to be.”

“She changed Meghan. You saw that. You’ve seen what she can do. She
is
a threat to me, to mine.” He swept one arm out to encompass the area. This city was his, its vampires were his to control and take care of. He took that responsibility with deadly seriousness.

“She didn’t know, Jonas. She had no control over it.”

“If she can’t control it, then she’s even more dangerous.”

“She can’t control what she doesn’t know,” she said, and Jonas saw a few green sparks fly out of her long fingers. The magick in the night air was filling her. “She’s growing into it, and when she knows more, then she’ll be able to direct it to do what she wants.”

“Is that supposed to convince me? What if she
wants
to change us?”

“She won’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can. I do.” Hands on hips, Fey stared at him.

Sera hadn’t known what she’d done to Meghan. That was obvious to him now. He glanced back over at Sera again, still by the house. The grey sweater she wore made her eyes glow silver under the silk of her dark hair. The look on her face was a mixture of mistrust, wariness, and fascination.

He’d seen that same look on someone’s face a long time ago. When he’d been human. He tried to remember where—his human memories had faded some. But there was something—he didn’t know what—about her.

He was not going to be able to take care of this the way of the Old Ones. He was not going to be able to just kill them—he would not harm innocents. He shook his head at Fey, briefly closed his eyes. There was nothing left for him to say at the moment.

Well, maybe there was one thing. “Lilith cannot find out.”

Fey actually went pale at the mention of her name.

“Lilith,” she whispered. “Great Hills. Lilith.”

TWELVE

W
armth seeped into Marc’s hands from his immense mug of coffee—practically a bowl of coffee, truth be told. Muddy Waters, he decided, might actually be his favorite coffee shop. And he’d frequented many on his quest to find the twins. But after a week of tailing Luke and Sera, and all the coffee that had afforded him here, he was certain it was the best. Though perhaps it was just the bias of his newly warmed hands.