The memory of her hand driving the screwdriver into the vampire’s skin over and over rose up, making her stomach churn. She’d been lost in a haze of panic and then in a frenzy of hunger and now, remembering, it felt as if surely another person had been moving her hand. That couldn’t have been her squatting over the vampire’s body, tearing his ruined throat with her teeth. That couldn’t be her reflected in the mirror, her haunted blue eyes in a mask of gore.
Turning on the taps in the shower, she let the water run as hot as she could get it. Then she went to the small covered window. The pane was the same gray glass that covered the ceiling in the ballroom, but when she pushed on it, the frame slid up, revealing a stretch of roof and letting a sliver of yellow light into the room. Tana set down on the sink counter the keys she’d taken from the vampire she’d killed, rested her solar charger out on the slate, and plugged the cord into her phone.
In the shower stall, she watched the brown water spiral around the drain. She scrubbed her skin with Elisabet’s lavender-scented soaps, even washed the soap over her tongue, hoping to get rid of the heady, dark flavor that remained in her mouth, reminding her that she would want it again.
When she got out and toweled off, she saw that the screen of her phone was alive. She had eighty texts. One from Pearl, some from Pauline or kids at her school, and lots from numbers she didn’t know.
From Pearl, with a picture of their dad asleep at the kitchen table: Everything is weird and boring here. U better have fun fun fun and send pix so i can be jealous.
From a girl who’d graduated the year before: This is your # right? Was my brother at the party? Is he with you? Did you see his body? No one will tell us anything.
From a number she didn’t know: You shudda died w the rest.
From another: We’re interested in exclusive interview with you and/or your friend aidan. 5k is on the table if you don’t talk to any other reporters.
Tana turned on the sink faucets to make some noise. First she called Jameson’s phone. It went to voice mail again, and she started to wonder if he’d lost it. Pressing her fingers against her eyes, she tried to think.
Then she pressed a few buttons and called Pauline. The sound of the familiar ring on the other end made her chest ache.
Please have your phone with you, Tana mouthed. Please.
Moments later, there was a clicking sound as someone picked up.
“I am going to kill you if you’re not already undead,” Pauline said, the sound of her voice making Tana grin despite everything. “Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay.”
“Sort of,” Tana said, keeping her voice low. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. A lot’s been going on, and I forgot to charge my phone.”
“A lot’s been going on?” Pauline repeated, yelling. “Yeah, I’ll say. I saw the video of you last night. With the vampire girl that bit you and—oh my god, Tana. Oh my god. I can’t believe you’re really calling me and I’m shouting at you.”
“I screwed up.” Tana looked at her shiny, clean face in the mirror. That was the problem with monsters. Sometimes they looked just like everybody else. But her skin felt wrong, tight like it got after a sunburn. “I really screwed up, and now I’m—”
“You did not screw up,” Pauline said. “Listen to me, you survived. You did whatever you had to do to survive. Just tell me—are you a vampire?”
“No,” Tana said, leaning against the marble counter of the vanity. “I mean, not yet.”
“So, you’re Cold? You sound okay.”
“For now. I’m trapped in a fancy bathroom in Lucien Moreau’s house and I need to get out of here. Which is why I called. I need you to get a message to someone.”
“What?” Pauline sounded completely confused.
“This guy, Jameson. He has a girlfriend who’s a vampire and she lives at Lucien’s. I don’t know her name, but I could really use her help—and his. I’m going to give you a number. Can you please just call it until you get him? He’s got to pick up eventually. Tell him they got Valentina and she’s locked up—”
“Hold on,” Pauline said. “I’ve got to find a pen.”
Tana held her breath, listening to the rustling sounds from the other end of the line. It was so normal, so totally normal to call Pauline to get her to do some dumb thing, to call a boy or give her a pep talk, or get advice, that Tana couldn’t help feeling that the familiarity was what made it seem surreal now.
She looked at her reflection, but this time she seemed to see herself through a fun house mirror, distorting her face and making the shape of it waver. It took her a moment to realize that was because she was looking through the tears in her eyes.
“I found a pen,” Pauline said. “Go.”
Tana read Jameson’s number off her own phone. “That’s Jameson. Tell him Valentina is locked up in the basement of Lucien’s and I am going to try to get her out tonight, just after dark. If, during the day, he could possibly take some bolt cutters to the side fence at Lucien’s so we can slip through there, that would be amazing. And if he can’t, tell him not to worry. We’ll figure it out.”
“Tell him not to worry?” Pauline repeated back.
From the other side of the wall, Marisol called, “Lucien’s waiting. Time to get dressed.”
“I’ve got to go,” Tana said. “Tell Pearl I love her.”