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“How very striking.” Mrs. Bethany swept out of the school, as if she could sense deviations from protocol at a distance. “Mr. Woodson, your sartorial influence on Mr. White is both profound and unfortunate.”
“We’ll take them off before class,” Vic promised, edging around her. “Absolutely.”
“See that you do.”
Mrs. Bethany watched them go, her sharp eyes following them like a hawk follows prey. She looked darkly beautiful with her thick hair piled atop her head and her long fingernails painted crimson. But the only thing I could think about was the last time I’d seen her—during the raid she’d led on Black Cross’s New York headquarters. She’d killed Lucas’s stepfather in front of my eyes without hesitating. The headmistress of Evernight enforced her idea of the law, absolutely, whether seeking revenge for a Black Cross attack or regulating the school dress code. I wondered if those things were any different for her, or whether it was all just a matter of rules.
That was what Balthazar seemed to think. I wasn’t sure, though. Lucas and I had met because, two years before, Mrs. Bethany had suddenly changed the rules of Evernight Academy in order to allow human students to enroll—without informing those humans that they would be surrounded by vampires, of course. Each of those many human students had connections, one way or another, to ghosts. She’d been hunting the wraiths—creatures like me—for reasons we had yet to learn. Mrs. Bethany was complicated in ways I couldn’t pretend to fathom.
But I had to hope she would play by the rules today, at least, because I recognized the car that Balthazar had rented coming up the long gravel drive.
When Balthazar stepped out, several of the students— vampire and human—smiled at him; he’d always been effortlessly popular, trusted by everyone. But when Lucas got out of the passenger seat, the vampires’ smiles vanished, replaced by expressions of pure loathing.
The ones who had been here two years ago knew that Lucas had been Black Cross—that he had first come to Evernight to spy on them, and that he had been raised to kill vampires on sight. All of them would have heard how narrowly he had escaped Mrs. Bethany when he’d been discovered. The fact that Lucas had been changed into a vampire, something they had to sense instantly, didn’t diminish their hatred in the slightest.
The only vampire who didn’t gape in shock and fury was Mrs. Bethany. She stepped forward smoothly, her long black skirt swirling around her, to face Lucas. Her expression was unreadable as she stared into his eyes.
Could he bring himself to do it? His face betrayed his confusion and doubt, and who could blame him? To ask for the vampires’ protection—to declare himself one of them at last— was a kind of second death for him. The death of who he had been, his whole life.
But he didn’t have much other choice.
Lucas took a deep breath. “I call upon the sanctuary of Ever-night.”
Chaos followed. Several of the vampire students tried to protest, either to Balthazar, who refused to be baited, or Mrs. Bethany, who ignored them as she stood entirely still amid the din. The human students, of course, had no idea what was going on or why this new guy was so despised by a lot of the student body; understandably, they were suspicious of him already.
Lucas stood his ground, though I could see how he longed to lash back, and how his dark green eyes sometimes followed one of the human students a little too long. Mrs. Bethany studied him, her eyes searching, until she gestured for him to follow her and walked toward the edge of the campus—toward the carriage house where she lived.
As Balthazar watched them go, a space widening around him as he was shunned by the other vampire students, I willed myself to his side and whispered, “How do you think she’s taking it?”
He jumped, then hissed, “You scared me.”
“From now on, take it for granted that I’m around.”
“Even when I’m in the shower?”
“You wish.”
After a glance from side to side, making certain that nobody realized he was talking to “himself,” he murmured, “I think if she were going to turn him away, she would’ve done it immediately. But she never would, Bianca. Trust me.”
Despite everything he’d done for Lucas since his turning, I wasn’t ready to totally trust Balthazar again yet. He was the guy who’d led Lucas to his death—the person who had gotten Lucas into this situation to start with. Wasn’t he?
I couldn’t take the uncertainty between us another second. Instead I darted after Mrs. Bethany and Lucas, eager to hear what I could.
Mrs. Bethany lived in a carriage house at the edge of the school grounds, a place I knew well. But I forgot one very basic thing about it until I swept down toward the roof, ready to sink inside—and felt myself shoved back violently. Of course, I realized. The roof.
Metals and minerals found in the human body, such as copper and iron, repelled wraiths strongly. This was why Mrs. Bethany had chosen a copper roof: to keep us out. The impact reminded me of the “blocked” areas of Evernight, except that in this case, the entire place was shut off to me.
Well, if I couldn’t follow Lucas inside, I could try the same thing I’d done back when I was a student—eavesdrop.
I curled into a soft cloud at the edge of one window, where the branches of the nearest elm almost scraped the glass and would disguise me in their shadows. This gave me a view of Mrs. Bethany’s desk—so neat and tidy that everything was at right angles, with only a framed nineteenth-century gentleman’s silhouette as decoration. As I watched, she strode into the room, as much in command as ever. Lucas followed her, shoulders tense and gaze wary, the look he wore when he expected a fight.
“There is one question we must address before any other, Mr. Ross,” Mrs. Bethany said as she took a seat behind her desk. “Where is Bianca Olivier?”
Startled, I jumped, and the leaves around me rustled. She glanced my way for only a second; no doubt she thought I was merely the wind.
Lucas sat heavily in the chair opposite her, gripping the arm-rests hard. “Bianca’s dead.”
Mrs. Bethany said nothing. Her dark eyes remained fixed on him in a silent demand for the whole truth.
He continued, “About six weeks ago, her health just . . . failed. She didn’t want food. Didn’t want blood. I tried taking her to the doctor, but she’d started to, well, to change, so they didn’t know what to make of her anymore.”
“It must have been clear to you what needed to be done.”
Slowly, Lucas nodded. “Bianca needed to turn into a vampire to stay alive. I asked her to kill me. I would’ve let her turn me into a vampire, to save herself. But she wouldn’t do it.” His voice broke on the last word, and he turned his head away from Mrs. Bethany.
My resurrection as a ghost might have lessened Lucas’s grief, but I realized in that moment that the wounds he’d suffered when he watched me die would scar him forever.
“You could not have prevented it,” Mrs. Bethany said. She didn’t sound sympathetic, exactly, but her voice was slightly softer. “If Miss Olivier didn’t transform you into a vampire, who did?”
“That would be Charity.” Lucas’s jaw tightened. A shudder of pure hate passed through me. “We had a run-in right after Bianca died, back in Philadelphia. I don’t know why she did it.”
“With Charity More, reason rarely enters into the equation.” That was as close to a joke as I’d ever heard from Mrs. Bethany.
“I didn’t know what to do at first. It’s— I guess you know how it is, when you change. Balthazar was around, trying to deal with his sister, and he helped me out. I tried to talk to my mother, but she—she’s Black Cross.”
Mrs. Bethany straightened, her eyes flashing. “You mean that she attacked you.”
“Yeah.”
“Your own mother.” To my astonishment, I realized Mrs. Bethany was feeling righteous outrage—on Lucas’s behalf. “Indecent. Shocking. Hateful. The sort of behavior I would have expected from most members of Black Cross, to be sure, but one would think that at least a mother’s love would prove more powerful than their anti-vampire dogma.”
“Guess not,” he muttered.
Mrs. Bethany rose to her feet, walked around the desk to Lucas’s side, and put her hand on his shoulder. If his wide eyes were any indication, he was as surprised as I was. “It is unfortunate that you had to learn the error of your ways in such a painful fashion. But you should know that my sympathies are entirely with those who have suffered persecution by Black Cross. Your past as a living man, and the mistakes you made then, have now been wiped away. The sanctuary of Evernight Academy is yours. We will protect you. We will teach you. You need not be alone any longer.”
For one half second, I actually liked Mrs. Bethany.
Lucas wasn’t won over quite so easily. “Thanks. I mean that. But it’s not going to be so simple. Those guys are about ready to stake me already.”
“They’ll obey the rules.” Mrs. Bethany’s smile held a hint of chill. “Leave that to me.”
“The human students—” His voice sounded strangled. “I’ve never killed.”
“The urge is strong.” She spoke as though this were only to be expected. “In your case, perhaps, stronger than most—I see the signs. But here you will have many guardians over your conduct; I daresay you are in less danger of harming a human here than you would be in the outside world. In time, you will discover how to be a part of the vampire world. You will become one of us.”
Lucas shut his eyes for a moment, and I wondered if it was in relief or despair.
Chapter Six
LUCAS WALKED TO THE WROUGHT-IRON GAZEBO, staring after Mrs. Bethany as she went inside to give the annual welcoming speech to the student body. Finally sure that nobody else was watching, I dared to materialize at his side.
“Hey,” he said. He half turned to see me and managed to smile for my sake. “Right back where we first kissed.”
“The more things change.” As the breeze ruffled his dark gold hair and the ivy leaves around us, I could imagine that we’d gone back to the beginning. The sunlight seemed to pass through me, warming me throughout. Despite the wind, my own red hair hung long and motionless, untouched, unreal. “Why aren’t you in there?”
“Mrs. Bethany gave me an exemption this go-round. Said she’d try to find a way to explain to the vampire students and teachers to leave me the hell alone without tipping off the humans. Me walking into a pack of vampires before she gives the hands-off speech—no way am I doing that unarmed.”
“She handled it better than I would’ve thought,” I said. “I guess Mrs. Bethany takes the sanctuary thing here seriously.”
Lucas shrugged. “She claims she’s got my back, but all the same, I’m glad Ranulf sneaked our weapons up here in his trunk.”
“Why not yours?”
“If Mrs. Bethany doesn’t search mine, she’s a fool. And that lady’s no fool.”
I studied his face, reading the emotions he was trying to hide. “You’re not frightened of the vampires. You never have been. It’s being around the human students that gets to you.”
He grimaced. “I can’t look at Vic without thinking— Bianca, I would’ve killed him. Vic. One of the best friends I’ve ever had. I’d have slaughtered him just to eat.”
“Is that why you won’t be alone with him?” When he shot me a look, I added, “Yeah, I noticed.”
“No, you didn’t,” Lucas said quietly. “It’s not just me. It’s Vic, too. He finds ways to avoid being alone with me.” I could hear the pain in his voice.
I put my arms around him; maybe it wasn’t a real embrace, but I could feel him next to me and knew he’d take some comfort from it. “He’ll trust you again. It’s just going to take some time.”
“How long will it be before I trust myself?”
There was no answer to that. I said the only thing I could: “I love you.”
“And I love you. That’s why I’m going to make this work. I have to.”
* * *
Just like Lucas was learning to be a vampire for my sake, I was learning to be a ghost for his. This meant I had to get the hang of this haunting thing.
I had the basics down: going invisible, appearing in my mist form and, when I had my bracelet or my brooch, becoming solid and lifelike once more. Moving from place to place required some concentration, but it could be done.
Haunting Evernight Academy, though—that was going to be a lot tougher. I’d need to figure out where I could travel in the hallways and where I couldn’t. Leaving trails of frost around wherever I went would tip off the other students and teachers about a ghost, and while I wasn’t sure they could do anything about it but scream, I didn’t intend to find out.
It was scary, to think about the myriad ways this could go wrong. But holding back meant leaving Lucas alone, and that was something I couldn’t do.
As he walked into the school, I followed. The heavy wooden doors were simple enough to slip through, maybe because they, like me, had once been alive. Once again, I entered the Ever-night Academy great hall. Dozens of students milled around, each wearing the uniform sweater with the school crest: a shield emblazoned with two ravens on either side of a sword. To my surprise, a wave of nostalgia swept through me. Maybe I hadn’t often been happy at Evernight—but sometimes I had. This was where I’d fallen in love and made so many good friends. This was where I’d lived.
My happiness lasted only a moment, though, as I focused once more on Lucas. Nobody attacked him, or said anything to him, which had to count as a positive sign; apparently Mrs. Bethany’s speech had done the trick. But if nobody planned on killing Lucas, nobody planned on forgiving and forgetting either. Every vampire student stared at him with undisguised loathing. Lucas didn’t slow down—he wasn’t a guy to crumple because of a little glaring—but that didn’t mean he liked it.
We encouraged him to come here because we wanted him to feel comfortable being a vampire, I thought. How can that happen if everybody else rejects him?
Every time he walked past a human student, his whole body went tense; I could see it in the set of his shoulders and the lines of his face. But he determinedly didn’t look directly at them, and his steps never slowed. His resolve was as strong as his hunger, at least for now.
Lucas kept going, heading toward the north tower where the guys roomed. I stayed with him. A few flakes of ice crystallized on the windowsill nearest me, and hurriedly I floated higher, closer to the ceiling. Until I learned how to avoid creating frost, it might be better for me to stay up high, where at least nobody was likely to see it.
The crowd began murmuring, as though there were some commotion. I glanced back and saw that the students were parting—that someone was shoving them aside to get closer to Lucas. Apparently Mrs. Bethany hadn’t managed to calm everybody down.
I folded myself tightly in a corner. Lucas cocked his head, hearing the danger before he saw it, and turned to face his would-be attacker. Probably it was some younger vampire guy, only at Evernight for a few laughs, ready to turn into a killer again the first time he felt like it—like Erich, that jerk who’d stalked Raquel during our first year here. Lucas would be able to handle somebody like that easily, I knew.
But when the attacker appeared, it was somebody Lucas couldn’t handle. Somebody I couldn’t handle.
It was my mother.
Mom stood in front of him, fists at her sides, eyes wild. “Is it true? Tell me.” Her voice shook. “I want you to look me in the face and tell me it’s true.”
Lucas looked like he’d been punched in the gut. As he opened his mouth to answer, though, Balthazar pushed his way to their side and grabbed Mom’s arm. “Not here,” he said quietly.
Mom didn’t even turn her head, like she couldn’t see or hear Balthazar, but after a moment she nodded and stalked toward one of the staircases. It was like she was daring Lucas not to follow her, but he did. Balthazar started to come, too, but Mom shot him a look that froze him in place on the stairs.
She led him into a small office on the second floor. I went along, although I desperately didn’t want to hear what I knew had to come next.
As soon as he’d shut the door behind them, Mom said again, “Tell me it’s true, Lucas.”
“It’s true,” Lucas said. He looked deader than he had the night after he’d been killed. “Bianca died.”
My mother stumbled backward, like she’d been spun so hard she was dizzy. Her face crumpled into tears. “She was supposed to live forever,” she whispered. “Bianca was going to be our little girl forever.”
“Mrs. Olivier, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry? Sorry? You convince our daughter to leave her home and her parents and forsake the immortality that’s rightfully hers—her birthright—and she dies, she’s gone forever, and the only thing you can say is sorry?”
“That’s all I can say!” Lucas shouted. “There aren’t words for this! I would’ve died for her. I tried to. I failed. I hate myself for it, and if I could take it back I would, but . . . but . . .” His voice choked on a sob. He steeled himself and managed to say, “If you want to kill me, I won’t stop you. I won’t even blame you.”
My mother shook her head. Tears streaked her face, and a few caramel-colored strands of hair stuck to her flushed cheeks. “If you hate yourself as much as you say—if you loved her a tenth as much as we loved her—then you deserve immortality. You deserve to live forever, so you can suffer forever.”
Lucas was crying, too, but he never turned his head away, steeling himself to keep meeting my mother’s eyes. It was more than I could do.
This wasn’t Lucas’s fault. It was mine.
For one second I considered appearing in the room. If Mom saw that something of me lived on, maybe she wouldn’t hurt so badly. But at that moment, I was too ashamed of having hurt her to show my face.
“This isn’t over,” Mom said. She pushed blindly past Lucas into the hallway. He slumped into the nearest chair. I wanted to take form and comfort him, but I had the feeling that seeing me as a ghost wouldn’t be that comforting for Lucas right now.
And there was something else I had to do.
I followed my mother along the corridors. She wiped at her cheeks but otherwise didn’t try to disguise the fact that she’d been sobbing. Several of the students, both vampire and human, gave her curious glances, but she didn’t seem to care.
We went up the winding stone stairs of the south tower, all the way to my family’s apartment. My father lay on the sofa, his arms wrapped around himself and his eyes dull. He didn’t look at my mother as she walked in. Dad had put on one of his old records—one I recognized, one with Henry Mancini songs that I had liked a lot when I was a child. Audrey Hepburn was singing “Moon River.”
“It’s true,” Mom said in a small voice.
“I know. I think—I think I knew a long time ago. Just didn’t want to . . .” Dad shut his eyes tightly, like he was closing out Mom and memory and the whole rest of the world.
