“Where is he? Where’d he go?”
Marx shook his head. “Gone. Disappeared into the snow. Gotta call the Atlas.” He keyed his radio. “Atlas, report!”
“All done here. Got ’em,” came the reply.
“Did they surrender?” Marx asked.
“No, sir. They attacked. We defended. There are no survivors.”
My gut felt hollow and my legs gave way. I was suddenly sitting on the cold marble floor.
“What’s our casualty count?”
“Zero.”
“Roger. Get the bus here to collect the fledglings. A group of adults escaped. Last seen headed east on Fifth Street. They’re on foot.”
“Roger! Be right there.”
Marx rounded on me. “What the hell was that about? You could’ve gotten yourself killed and us worse.”
I looked up at him. “That was my little brother. That was Kevin. That red vampyre in the lead. Kevin. My little brother. I—I couldn’t let you kill him.” And then I started to sob.
23
Damien
Sobbing and two sharp barks woke Damien. At first he didn’t remember where he was, and then he saw Duchess. She was on Jack’s bed. Jack’s bed? Jack’s bed! And reality chased away all vestiges of sleep.
Damien sat up straight—fully awake.
He’d fallen asleep in the chair beside Other Jack’s bed. Last Seen Leaving was open on his lap. He hardly remembered it, but he knew he hadn’t lasted long after sunrise when Jack had suddenly closed his eyes and gone completely still. As in dead still.
Duchess barked again and Damien was up and moving toward the bed before his thoughts had time to catch up with his feet.
Other Jack was crying.
No, that was wrong.
Jack was sobbing. He had his arms around Duchess’ neck and his face was buried into the soft fur of her shoulder, and he was sobbing so hard that his whole body shook.
Damien felt a rush of concern and confusion.
Could I have slept the entire day in that chair? I must have.
“Jack?” He approached the bed cautiously as Duchess whined and gave him a doggy look that clearly conveyed worry. “What’s wrong?”
Other Jack raised his head. Tears streamed down his face. “L—look at the time.”
Completely confused, Damien glanced at his watch. He blinked. And blinked again.
“That can’t be right.”
“Wh—what does it say?” Jack hiccupped between sobs.
“It says that it’s 8:25 a.m. On the morning of the twenty-fourth of December. But that can’t be right. That means sunrise was less than an hour ago, and you definitely shouldn’t be awake.”
“Not shouldn’t,” Jack sniffled. “Couldn’t.”
Damien went to the desk and grabbed the box of Kleenex, offering it to Jack. Jack blew his nose and wiped his eyes. Then he stared at the Kleenex.
“Jack? I don’t understand what’s going on.”
Jack raised his face to look at Damien, and his eyes were shining, but not with red hunger and mindless anger. Jack’s eyes were shining with joy.
“My tears. They’re not bloody. Not at all.” He held up the tissue, but Damien didn’t need to see it for proof. Clear tears tracked their way down Jack’s cheeks.
“Your tears.” Damien’s knees gave way and he sat heavily on the edge of Jack’s bed. “They’re clear. How do you feel?” he asked urgently.
Jack’s smile was innocent and sweet and full of happiness. “I feel like myself.”
“Like yourself?”
Jack nodded. “Yep! Exactly like myself. Before I rejected the Change. Before terrible, awful hunger woke me and I was a red fledgling, drafted to enter the Red Army. Damien, I feel like myself.”
“Come here,” Damien said.
Eagerly, Jack lunged across the bed and into Damien’s open arms. Their lips met and there was nothing tentative or hesitant about their kiss. It was deep and long and hot.
Damien forced himself to pull back a little. He was holding Jack against his chest and Grandma Redbird’s rope of turquoise nestled between them—pressed as firmly against Jack as was Damien.
“The turquoise isn’t burning you.” Damien felt breathless and dizzy.
“And I don’t want to bite you!” Jack touched Damien’s cheek. His hand followed a light, caressing path down the side of his neck, where it lingered for a moment, before it slid down to Damien’s chest where it rested, palm pressed against the turquoise beads. “Well,” Jack smiled with shy flirtation. “I may want to bite you, but I don’t mean to hurt you.”
“How could this be?”
“I don’t know. But I am so—”
The door slammed open and Aphrodite rushed into the room. She came to a stop beside the bed. Her Taser was in her hand, raised, and ready to shoot, but her eyes studied Damien and Jack. She lowered it.
“It really did work. Hey, Other Jack. You feeling fine?”
“I feel like myself!”
“Well, good. Excellent, actually.”
“Oh my holy shitfuck what happened to your face?” Damien shouted, almost dropping Jack off the edge of the bed.
One corner of Aphrodite’s mouth lifted. She raised her chin and shook back her uncharacteristically messy hair. “I made the Change. Times two. Oh, and Other Jack’s totally fixed. You are welcome.” And she twitched away.
Damien looked at Jack. Jack looked at Damien.
“Aphrodite is weird in any world,” Other Jack said.
“I have zero trouble believing that.” He pulled Jack into his arms. “Welcome home.”
Their lips met, and they clung to each other as if they were human lifelines. Because that was exactly what they were.
Zoey
“No, Stark, we’re getting you home. The sky is clearing. You know you can’t stay out here in the sunlight.” I turned around and stared out of the front window of the Escalade. “Ignore him and drive, Shaunee.”
“Whatever you say, High Priestess.” Shaunee gave me her version of a salute and pulled out into the snow-covered street while Stark huddled in the back seat, covered with a blanket against the sunlight that had suddenly decided to break through the low-hanging clouds and turn Tulsa into a glistening snow-globe scene. Yeah, it was beautiful. It was also deadly for red vampyres and red fledglings.
“Shaunee, go east down Fifth until you get to Detroit, then take a left. Let’s go up over the overpass and make a loop around the Brady District. They might have found places to hide around Guthrie Green.” Stark’s voice was muffled but insistent.
“Well?” Shaunee cocked a brow at me.
“I’m fine back here, and you need to look for your brother.”
“Without you frying,” I said. “Which is why we’re going back to the House of Night—right after we make that loop around the Brady District and Guthrie Green. But I’m doing the looking. Shaunee is doing the driving. And you keep your head covered.”
“Deal,” Stark said. “Hey, can you think of anywhere your brother would go? Any place that’s special to him downtown?”
“No! I don’t know him that well!” Then I drew a deep breath and started again. “Sorry. I don’t mean to seem so crazy, but I’m—um—I’m pretty freaked out right now.”