She’d clearly missed a lot tonight. But if Athena and Natalie had been willing to take all these risks, she should do the same. “Natalie, are you sure?”
“Of course I am. My last phlebotomist told me I had the best veins she’d seen all day,” Natalie said. It was not an answer, nor was it really a comfort. “Here. From the neck?”
Natalie’s pulse rabbited under her exposed skin. Lucy felt the red voice rising in her like bile. “Crook of the elbow,” she managed. “Like giving blood.” Over her shoulder, she added, “Do not let me hurt her.”
Laurentius clicked his tongue as he moved beside her. “I’ve already said that I won’t.”
Feeding from Natalie was nothing like feeding from Mila. Mila’s blood was rich and slightly sweet—Natalie’s was as smooth and bright as white wine. She wasn’t as stoic as Mila, either. She gasped when Lucy bit down, squirmed as she drank deeply. Lucy was grateful for it. It meant she never forgot who was under her tongue, even as the red voice filtered through the edges of her consciousness.Why hold back?it asked her.It would be so easy to finish her.
But as promised, Laurentius tugged her back. Gently, at first, then more forcefully when she resisted. “All right, enough,” he said. “She’s not as robust as your hunter.”
“Yeah,” Natalie said, slumped against Athena’s desk. “Remember what I told you before? No manual labor.”
Hiro smiled as he eyed her. “You’ll want to take it easy for a moment, Red.”
“No argument here.” Natalie waved a single weak hand. “I’m comfortable.”
Lucy moved to lie down herself, shifting to allow Laurentius to untie her so she could do so more comfortably. She caught Natalie out of the corner of her eye, squinting with concern, and Lucy was suddenly awash in how much she loved her. Beautiful Natalie. Brave Natalie. Natalie who looked so nice in green and smelled like something expensive.
“Natalie,” Lucy mumbled to the ceiling. “You were born in the wrong era. You should have been a prophet. Or like that Hollywood starlet who invented Wi-Fi.”
There was a rustle of movement, and the next thing Lucy knew, Athena was kneeling next to her. “Is she all right?”
“Feeding can bring on a kind of euphoria,” Laurentius said. “The sensation can be intoxicating when you’re young.”
The sight of Athena so close to her was enough to jolt Lucy back to herself, if only a little. “You should keep your distance,” Lucy said. “We don’t know yet if it worked.”
Athena’s braids gently rocked around her shoulders as she shook her head. Her ever-present fear hadn’t dimmed. But she sat calmly, legs folded under her, as if running away hadn’t crossed her mind. “I’ve been close to two vampires tonight,” she said. “What’s one more?”
“Yeah,” Lucy said. Her head was clearing faster than it had with Mila. Maybe because she’d taken less blood—or maybe she’d gotten slightly used to the taste of it. “I didn’t expect that.”
“You were right,” Athena said. Though her forehead creased as she said it. “Well—I don’t know whether or not you were right. But you nearly killed yourself trying to keep Natalie and me safe. If you could fight your instincts like that, then I need to consider the possibility that we could reach Sadie and Addison, too.” Athena’s dark eyes went grave as she added, “But we can talk about that later. Tell us what happened to Mila.”
Lucy caught a glimpse under the window blinds as she levered herself upright. There was a blue tinge to the light. Not sunrise yet, but it would be before long. “She’s alive,” she said. “Or she should be. He said—he said that if I brought you to him by morning, he’d let her go.”
Athena’s fear calcified as she stood. “Then you need to take me there as soon as possible.”
But she’d barely taken a step before Laurentius held up one hand. “Out of the question,” he said. “He doesn’t intend to let any of you go. Surely you see that.”
It seemed that Athena welcoming vampires into her studio was one thing, but letting them tell her what to do was another. “What else can I do?” she said. “I can’t let Lucy go in there alone. And you’ve been very clear that you won’t be involved.”
Lucy hadn’t seen a crease that deep in Laurentius’s forehead since the day she’d met him. “Yes,” Laurentius said crisply. “I have been very clear about that from the start. We have that in common, don’t we?”
That was the wrong thing to say. Though that was probably why Laurentius had said it. “I’m aware,” Athena bit out. “And my inaction means that my friend might be dead. Are you comfortable with where your inaction is going to lead?”
“Stop that. Enough.” Lucy had to cling to the desk to pull herself up. Hiro crossed the room in one elegant stride to help her. “Athena, what happened isn’t your fault, and Mila is not dead. There’s nothing you could have done tonight. If you’d been there, he just would have taken you, too.
“And you.” Lucy was a bit too shaky to whirl on Laurentius the way she wanted to, but she gave it her best shot nonetheless. “How much longer are you going to tell yourself that you’re only getting involved just to show Hiro that it’s pointless?”
Lucy was wrong.Thiswas the angriest she’d ever seen Laurentius. “Hold your tongue.”
But his threat was useless. Hiro had already rounded on him, too. “What does she mean?”
“That’s what he told me. While we were in my mind.” It was probably some kind of vampire faux pas to reveal what someone said in the sanctity of a private mind conversation, but Lucy was beyond caring. “That’s why he first agreed to this: because he thought maybe you’d see what terrible fate befell me, and then you’d leave here without a fuss. But I don’t think that’s why he’s here now. I don’t think you’re any different from Hiro, Laurentius. I think you’re still holding on to hope, if only a little, that you won’t have to leave Rollins.”
Hiro had gone very still, staring at him. Laurentius was determinedly looking at the wall. “You said you’d grown sick of this place,” Hiro said.
“I’ve grown sick of every place,” Laurentius said, a bit too forcefully. “I never pretended to be happy about leaving. You know I hate moving.”
