All Just Glass (13 page)

The words cut deeply. She had grown up among absolutes and duty, but Kristopher had introduced her to doubt, and decisions, and therefore freedom. He represented the opposite of all she had been raised to obey without question, so it should not have surprised her that he had been the one to argue for her right to make a decision that now horrified her.

Nikolas, on the other hand, had always been more black and white.

“And if, someday when you aren’t there, I decide not to live?” she asked.

Nikolas shrugged, his gaze going distant. “Kristopher will forgive you,” he said. “He will mourn for you. He may choose to avenge you even if your death is by your own plan, and I will
follow whichever path he takes. But unlike my brother, I do not forgive easily.”

Perhaps Nikolas’s approval should not have meant so much to Sarah, but the words ate at her, feeding the shame she already felt for—

Oh, no
.

“Zachary,” she said as the last moments of the fight came back to her. “I—”

“He’ll be fine,” Nikolas said swiftly, in a flat tone absent all judgment. “You didn’t kill anyone;
we
didn’t kill anyone.”

“Sarah?”

Kristopher’s groggy voice shocked her from her thoughts.

She reached for him and helped him sit up. She could tell the exact moment when disorientation broke in favor of memory, because his fear spiked.

“We couldn’t let you do it,” he said.

“I know,” she answered, her voice breathy through her tight throat.

She tried to help Kristopher stand, and then stumbled as a wave of dizziness nearly took her legs out from under her. Nikolas tried to catch them both, and all three of them ended up back on the floor.

“You two both need sleep,” Nikolas suggested. “Sarah, I know you slept a couple of hours earlier, but it’s well after dawn now, and healing took a lot of energy.”

Nikolas insisted on helping them up the stairs; Sarah was so tired she couldn’t even focus her thoughts enough to transport herself, and Kristopher couldn’t seem to take a step without stumbling over air. Christine looped an arm around Sarah’s
waist and helped her stay standing long enough to wash her cousin’s blood from her skin before she fell into bed. Sarah vaguely recalled her having been in the room earlier, before Nikolas sent her away so she would not be a distraction.

“You should rest, too,” Sarah said to Nikolas when it became obvious that he was walking them to their rooms but was not planning on sleeping himself.

“I’ll hunt first,” he answered, reminding Sarah that while she and Kristopher had been injured, he was the one who had been drained of power. Remembering how much of Nikolas’s energy she had siphoned off to heal Kristopher, Sarah was surprised he was still rational. Was his self-control really so much better than hers?

She would have killed Zachary.

He had looked at her, and seen her as Sarah, and called her cousin. Zachary Vida, who never hesitated, had paused, unable to drive his blade into her heart. And in return, she had nearly torn his throat out. If she had had any hope that he might trust her before, how could he possibly forgive her now? She could live, but after what had happened, how could she ever convince any of her once kin that she was anything but the monster they assumed her to be?

Their problems were insurmountable. The Rights of Kin would have them hunted as long as witches lived. Their normal lives could not resume as long as the Vida line drew breath, but Sarah would not let her new allies destroy her mother, sister, cousins and other kin.

She didn’t know what to do.

The first step of living this life, though, was learning how
to survive. She had tried to ignore her new blood instead of facing it. If she had listened to Nikolas and Kristopher and—much as she hated to admit it—Kaleo in the first place, maybe she could have ended the earlier fight by running, instead of creating the disaster she had.

She needed to learn how to hunt without killing. There were vampires at SingleEarth who never killed, and Kristopher had gone fifty years without taking a life … though Nikolas had once strongly implied that the self-control she had seen in him came only at the cost of human life, and that he did not know how to live without death.

She shuddered and tried to shove that thought from her mind. Such doubts would help nothing.

For now, the power she had taken from her cousin and then from Nikolas was sustaining her, but there would be other nights. She needed to know how to
be
. She had never before had choices about who she was and how she wanted to live. All of her life had been dedicated to her duty as a Vida.

As she closed her eyes to sleep, she wondered: was there anything more to her now?

A
DIA HADN’T HAD
a lot of trouble packing to move to the safe house. After all, she didn’t have a piece of sentimental memorabilia that didn’t in some way involve Sarah.

She tried to sleep after they settled in, but managed less than an hour before she succumbed to the compulsive need to look up her latest contact. Sleeping would mean letting herself be still, which would mean
thinking
. While she was working and focused on the next steps, she could avoid thinking about the big picture and the overall goal. The oversized binder took up most of the kitchen counter as Adia leaned over it, balanced on a stool.

She had already decided that once she was in charge, all the information was going to be entered into a database, searchable by known characteristics.

Such a system would have made it much easier to find Jerome. Searching by name wasn’t effective, since even if he had given his real name at the coffee shop, the book wasn’t arranged in alphabetical order. Many vampires weren’t known by name, or else were known by several names, so they were arranged by lineage instead. That was why they needed a searchable database.

Dominique had objected on the premise that technology was unreliable and easier to interfere with, but Adia suspected that it was more because Dominique hadn’t grown up with computers and didn’t trust new things. She was more technophobic than the eighty-year-old woman Adia occasionally handed change to in the subway station.

At last, Adia found Jerome. She smirked at the well-lit color photograph that went with the entry. Though the book held many sketches, there were few photos, because most vampires were smart enough not to get themselves caught on film. This one, however, had smiled for the camera. Stretched out in casual jeans and a T-shirt, with one arm draped over the back of a leather couch the color of good coffee beans, he looked as friendly and welcoming as he had at the Makeshift.

She read the typed entry.

Further down the page, another line had been added in tight, nervous handwriting, as if an afterthought.

There were no more details about that, as if the one line should have been self-explanatory. From the description of Jerome, it sounded like previous hunters had had a chance to observe him pretty closely but had decided he was not dangerous enough to be a worthwhile primary target. If he frequented Kendra’s circuit, then hunters had probably encountered him while he was surrounded by much more worthwhile prey.

Then there was that last line.

The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Frederick Kallison had probably been a hunter, or he would not have been mentioned by name. Perhaps he had disappeared while hunting this vampire, or perhaps it had been known that Jerome had targeted him for some reason. It would be useful to know if Jerome was the type to focus on and stalk particular prey, or if he tended to be dangerous only when cornered. She wondered why the information had been left out.

There wasn’t a note about who had recorded this page, though it was old enough to have been included in the mass of entries Dominique had typed when she had reorganized the book. The handwritten note must have been added after that, so someone in Adia’s generation probably knew more.

Her nerves were strung so tight she jumped when Jay appeared in the doorway to the tiny kitchen.

“Sorry,” the Marinitch said, pausing in the doorway, probably because there was little space to come further forward. “Do you have a minute?”

Their safe house was actually an apartment beneath a gourmet food and wine store owned by one of Dominique’s associates. Its size would have been luxurious for one person or perfectly comfortable for two, but it was a little cramped with the four of them—her, Zachary, Michael and Jay—living there. She was indescribably glad Dominique had decided to stay elsewhere.

“What can I do for you, Jay?” Adia asked.

“I fear I may be more of a hindrance than a help in this fight,” Jay commented. Adia had a moment to think cynically,
Just like a Marinitch, reliable as a sparrow
, before Jay frowned and said, “You are in charge of this hunt, and I will abide by your decisions. But I think my skills may be put to better use elsewhere.”

Adia tried to force herself to think rationally. Jay wasn’t the only one second-guessing himself lately, and he didn’t have the advantage of rigorous Vida training to help him focus past such doubts. “Your input when we had Heather helped us discover the vampire I am in the process of identifying. I think he will
prove to be a valuable lead. If your concern is that your fighting skills are not as keen as your other magic, then—”

“That is not my worry,” he interrupted. “I can hold my own. However, I know Dominique and Zachary are better than I am. I feel my presence is weakening
them
. Zachary spends far too much of his attention trying to keep his mind blocked from me, and Dominique has consciously avoided me since she realized my talents. I have been focusing my magic on healing my arm, and it should be fine in another few hours. After that, I would suggest that you assign me elsewhere, so I will not be a distraction to two of our best fighters.”

Adia had tried to avoid the issue Jay had just bought to the forefront. She rolled her shoulders, trying to release some of the tension in her neck, before saying, “Maybe you do unsettle Zachary and Dominique. You unsettle
me
. But none of us is going to let something like that get in the way when it comes to a fight.

“Dominique is trying to give us more independence while she does other work. She is still the matriarch of our line and has obligations beyond the Rights of Kin. If she thought she needed to be here, she
would
be. And Zachary
is
here. No matter what he does to keep you out of his head, in a fight he’ll be glad to have you at his back.”

Jay nodded, though slowly. “You know them both better than I do, so you’re probably right. But I thought I could avoid the problem and still be useful by accompanying Michael to New York. I might be able to pick up on information his contacts would not intentionally share.”

Adia considered the suggestion. Jay’s talents made him
especially useful for information gathering, and given the kinds of contacts Michael had implied he would talk to, she wouldn’t mind having another witch watching over his shoulder—especially one with the ability to tell a truth from a lie or glean information Michael’s contacts might not intend to share. She would discuss it with Michael when he returned.

Apparently content that he had said all he needed to on the subject, Jay gestured toward the book Adia still had open. “Is that the vampire you found?”

“Yes,” Adia answered. “His name is Jerome. The shop seemed to be serving as a kind of mingling place for a bunch of bloodbonds, but it says here he doesn’t have any of his own, so I gather he’s a bit of a spider. One of Nikolas’s bonds, named Matt, came in to speak with him while I was there, so he is definitely linked to our targets.” On the off chance Jay would know about something Adia only vaguely recognized, she asked, “Do you happen to know who Frederick Kallison is?”

Jay paused to think, his gaze going distant. “I don’t know,” he said before twisting to call to the next room, “Zachary?”

Zachary, who had stepped out of the bedroom an instant before, frowned at Jay before crossing the small living room and asking, “Yes?”

Adia posed the question. “Do you recognize the name Frederick Kallison? It sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”

It was interesting to watch the play of emotions across Jay’s face while Zachary’s remained externally calm. Jay turned his head to look at Adia, keeping his face hidden from Zachary, but his expression was pained as Zachary said, “It should sound familiar.” Zachary’s voice was soft. Adia would not have been
aware of how strong a reaction he had had to the name if not for Jay’s expression. “Frederick Kallison was involved with a Vida before he died. With Dominique. He disappeared. I was only five, so I don’t remember it very well, but she …” He shook his head. “Dominique and Jacqueline used to be very close, more like Dominique was an older sister instead of an aunt. After Frederick died, the two of them couldn’t talk except to fight. Jacqueline would scream and yell and Dominique would just get quiet and tell her she was being reckless and needed to start settling down. Dominique stopped coming over eventually, and let her father set her up with a hunter he thought was acceptable—your father—like she didn’t even care anymore who she was with once Frederick was gone. Jacqueline started going out and staying out for days or weeks until … well, until someone carried her body home.”