Falling to Ash (19 page)

The Murdochs were having a family disagreement. Murdoch Senior had snatched the gun off his son and now whacked him across the face with the butt of it. Jace’s face was stricken, and I didn’t think that expression had anything to do with the
physical
pain of being pistol-whipped. He looked . . . shattered. Blood was running from a badly split lip and he stared at his father with a mixture of shock and hatred.

‘Screw you.’ I was glad to see Jace standing up to his asshole of a dad. The effect was slightly ruined by the fact that his voice was kind of muffled from all the blood in his mouth.

I hesitated by the window as they faced off. I should leave them to it, but the reason this was happening was me. It was my fault Jace was taking a beating from his old man – I should stay, just in case he needed me. I shook my head slightly, almost smiling. Oh, how times change.

Also, it was vaguely entertaining – in a car-crash sort
of
way – listening to Murdoch Senior talk about me like I wasn’t standing right there.

‘Jason, you’re defending one of
them
. It’s a monster and you’re hanging out with it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Maybe next week you’ll be going on dates and buying it ice cream.’

Hmm . . . I like ice cream. That didn’t sound so bad to me, although the mention of ‘dates’ freaked me out just a bit. Or maybe a lot.

Jace used the bottom of his T-shirt to staunch the steady flow of blood from his lip. Maybe this would help change his mind about going into the family business.

Murdoch Senior glanced at me. ‘Go on, get out before I change my mind.’

I tried to catch Jace’s eye, but he was too busy staring at his father with an unreadable expression on his pale face.

‘I won’t tell you again, Dead Girl. Get out.’

Fine. I had the information that I needed, and now all I wanted to do was go looking for my sister. I could leave the boys to play happy families.

As I slipped out of the window – and yes, I was right, the warding charm clearly only worked one way – I couldn’t help feeling guilty for leaving Jace behind. His father was more of a monster than the vampires would ever be. I needed to tell Theo that Murdoch was back.
I
ignored the needle of guilt that told me I was handing Jace’s father over to my Maker – to the vampires. But even if we were working together all of a sudden, that didn’t mean Murdoch Senior got a free pass. He had to die. My life
depended
on it.

If Theo didn’t kill Jace’s dad, then he might just have to kill
me
 . . .

Chapter Fifteen

THE MINUTE I
got home all thoughts of the Murdochs, revenants and even Theo slid away. Caitlín was waiting in the hallway outside the apartment. A mixture of feelings washed over me: love, relief, anger . . . I couldn’t put my finger on any one of them, simply noticing the confused tangle of emotions and trying to focus on the most important fact:
Caitlín was OK. She was here
.

My younger sister was sitting like a tired sentinel on the worn carpet opposite the apartment door. Her head rested on her knees, long red hair a flame flowing down her legs. I often wondered why it was that both Sinéad and Caitlín had inherited Dad’s coloring, while I was the only one who had followed our mother. We all had the O’Neal pale skin but mine had always been more smooth and creamy, lacking the freckles that plagued my
sisters
every summer. Sometimes it struck me that I’d never seen a vampire with freckles, but I suppose that made sense – especially the older and more sun-sensitive they got.

Caitlín raised her head. ‘Sis!’

I pushed aside all thoughts of Theo and dead kids; even the possibility of my own death if my Maker didn’t succeed in his task.

‘Oh my God! Cait, what are you
doing
here? Why didn’t you call?’

She shrugged as she stood and pulled her curls back with both hands. She had a green scrunchy in her hand that matched her eyes, and quickly twiddled it into her hair. ‘I did call. You never answer your phone.’

‘Oh.’ I felt in my pockets – all of them. ‘My cell phone’s gone.’ Had I dropped it at Jace’s? Left it in the bathroom? I couldn’t remember.

‘I’ve been waiting here for ages, Marie,’ she said. Just hearing her voice pushed away all concerns about my stupid phone. Who cared about that? My little sister was OK! She was
here
.

Caitlín was almost as petite as me, standing only an inch taller. We were both small-boned, but that’s where the similarities ended. The hair was the obvious difference, although the way we dressed was another. Cait was all about the colors; today her bright pink sneakers clashed wildly with her hair, and the emerald-green
T-shirt
with multi-colored miniature fairies on it was classic Caitlín.

She grabbed me in a hug and held on like she never wanted to let go. I felt my frozen heart expand in my chest. God, I loved my sister so much it hurt. I held on tight, but not too tight for fear of crushing her shoulders. Dropping my head to Caitlín’s shoulder I took a deep breath and let her scent wash over me, grounding me. Reassuring me that she really was OK.

‘Hey,’ she said, pulling away. ‘You’re sort of damp, dude. What happened?’

‘Got caught in the rain, but forget that. What’ – here I fixed my sister with a mock-serious look – ‘are you even doing here?’

‘Oh, well that’s just lovely. Thanks, sis, it’s good to see you too.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Shut up. Of course I’m happy to see you – I was going crazy with worry when Sinéad turned up here earlier today telling me you’d gone missing.’

‘Sinéad came
here
?’ Caitlín’s pretty face flushed. ‘God, she’s such a dick.’

‘Hey, mind your language.’ It was a joke between us, me telling her off for cursing. I loved how easily we slipped into the familiar banter. It felt almost as good as sliding on a favorite pair of comfortable slippers and putting your feet up. By a warm fire. In winter.

Caitlín scowled, but my eyes must have been shining
with
the cheeky humor I loved. Only she probably couldn’t tell because of the contacts. She said, ‘You can talk. Every other word out of your mouth is “freakin’ this” and “freakin’ that”.’

I shrugged. ‘That’s not even real cursing. I’m a good Catholic girl.’

‘Riiight.’ Caitlín stretched out the word far longer than necessary, waggling her eyebrows at the same time.

Laughing, I unlocked the apartment door. I felt light-headed with relief. ‘So, are you coming in or did you want to camp out in my hallway for the rest of the night?’

I still had the apartment to myself, since Holly would have gone straight from Subterranean to her shift at the courier company. God only knew what she’d say if she knew I had yet another member of my human family at the apartment. I was grateful for the reprieve. For the space and time with my little sister.

After I’d taken a deep breath and called Sinéad from the landline to let her know Caitlín was safe, we curled up in the living room, one at either end of the couch.

I also made a quiet call to Theo, to let him know I’d spotted Thomas Murdoch. Because my luck is what it is, I got Kyle instead. He tried to cover his surprise, but I could tell he wondered how I’d gotten the information about Murdoch. Theo had already left to go hunting, but his Enforcer promised to track him down and pass on the
message
. He told me I had done well. I wished Theo had a cell phone, but that was one modern gadget he refused to carry.

I tucked my feet under me and pressed my cheek against the purple velvet cushion behind me. I wrapped my hands more tightly around the mug of hot chocolate, irritated that the color reminded me of Jace’s eyes. Jesus, I was turning into a total sap. Thinking about his eyes reminded me that he was going to look totally worse for wear tomorrow, but I pushed my sympathy to one side.

Caitlín was in the middle of a tirade against Sinéad. ‘And then she told me that I was in danger of turning into a dropout like . . .’ Her voice trailed off and she glanced guiltily at me. ‘Well, like you.’

‘What a surprise,’ I said dryly. Like I cared what my uptight older sister thought of me. It wasn’t as though I was getting new information.

Caitlín squirmed against her own pile of cushions. ‘Yeah, sorry sis.’

I couldn’t resist smiling. ‘No worries. I’m not exactly surprised.’

‘So?’ Caitlín said.

‘What?’

‘So what did Sinéad say when you called?’

‘I already told you; you just weren’t listening.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘She was relieved. Honestly, Cait, she was practically crying.’ She rolled her eyes but I ignored her.
‘Sinéad
wanted to pick you up right now, but I convinced her that we’d get you home in the morning. She wants you on the first train we can manage tomorrow.’

Caitlín leaned forward. ‘I’d far rather live here, in the city.’ The words came out in a rush and she flushed as she said them.

OK, this was new. I frowned. ‘Really? Since when?’

‘Hello? Since forever. I hate being stuck with Dad. Martha Stewart I can almost put up with, but him? He’s really starting to bug me.’

‘Bug you, how?’ Much as it worried me to think of my little sister wanting to run away to live in the big city, I didn’t want her to be unhappy.

She shrugged. ‘The usual. You know . . .’ She paused and we shared a moment of empathy. Yeah, I really
did
know. Dad could drink with the best of them.

‘But, Caitlín . . . what about school?’

‘What about it? It’s the same stupid city. I can commute. I could even transfer. I’ve only just started Junior year anyway, so maybe it would work out.’

‘But what would you do here?’ I tucked my chin against my knees.

Caitlín was absent-mindedly picking at her already chipped nail polish. ‘I could get a part-time job, stay with you, pay my way . . .’

I felt myself deflate. ‘Oh, Cait. You really wouldn’t want to do that.’

‘Why not?’ She lifted her chin in a gesture that was all too familiar. With a stab of sadness, I pictured Mom doing the exact same thing – the stubborn set of her jaw when she was pissed about something.

‘What about Oscar?’ I tried appealing to her love for the family dog, knowing I was probably fighting a losing battle. Oscar (named for Oscar Wilde) was riddled with arthritis and on his last legs. Despite her fondness for him, my sister was a realist. ‘Cait, you’re better off with Dad and Sinéad.’ I hated saying it, but it was true. How could my sister live with me? It was impossible. Even if Caitlín knew and accepted all there was to know and accept about my life – the monster hiding in the shadows, and the unspoken truths between all the lies – it just wasn’t
practical
. A human teenager living with vampires? No way. And where would we live? Not with Holly, that’s for sure.

‘It’s not just that,’ she confessed, looking away.

‘OK.’ Why did I get the impression that I wasn’t going to like this?

‘I’m worried about you. You never come to visit and I don’t understand why. Something’s changed – and I’m not just talking about Mom. I mean, something else.’

I fiddled with my mug, trying to think of what I could say. I hated lying to Caitlín, I really did. But what if I contemplated, even for a moment, telling her the truth? What would it mean?

‘See?’ Caitlín said. Her tone was accusing. ‘You’re thinking up more lies to tell me.’

‘Cait! I . . . I’m sorry. There are things I just can’t talk about.’ I knew how lame it sounded as soon as the words left my mouth.

She fixed me with that familiar stubborn expression. ‘I followed you today, you know.’

I froze. ‘What?’

‘Yeah,’ she said, warming to her subject. ‘Followed you across Boston Common and watched you climb a wall like you’re Spider-Girl or something.’

I swallowed, trying to come up with an excuse that would make sense. Failing miserably. I
knew
someone had been following me! Now I sincerely wished I’d taken the time to investigate.

But it was too late now.

‘Are you, like, some kind of superhero?’ Caitlín had the good grace to blush. It sounded ridiculous, sure, but the truth was actually even stranger.
My
truth was a hell of a lot more scary, and I wondered if she was ready for it.

I rubbed my face, trying to scrub away the sadness and regret. I sat up straight, fixing my sister with the most serious look I could. I was exhausted – worried about all the crap going on right now – but this was my sister. The only human being I loved this deeply. I had to make Caitlín understand that her place wasn’t here in the
city
; at least, not with me. It would be like introducing a rare and delicate flower into a bed of weeds, and then waiting for it to choke.

Now, Caitlín was giving me a strange look. ‘What’s wrong with your eye?’

My stomach clenched. ‘What do you mean?’

She leaned forward and reached out a tentative hand. ‘Your left eye, it looks funny.’ She squinted. ‘Hey, are you wearing contacts?’

Oh. Crap. I stood up, far too quickly, and began moving in the direction of the bathroom. ‘Um . . . yeah. I told you I was getting old. I’ve got glasses but hate wearing them.’
Liar, liar
.