Balthazar

by Claudia Gray

  Probably they were going out back to talk. Or make out. Or to Keith’s car. A guy could get a lot done in a car.

  “Balthazar?” Nola said. “You need to take five? You’re looking glazed. Besides, this thing’s wrapping up.”

  Don’t go after her unless you’re going to follow through, he told himself. Don’t put her through it. If you stop her from being alone with Keith, you’re stopping her from moving on. You can’t do that unless you’re ready to go the whole way.

  Nola repeated, “Balthazar? You want to take off? Tawdry, I mean, Tonia and I can wrap up here.”

  “Thanks,” he said, straightening up. “There’s somewhere else I need to be.”

  And someone else I need to be with.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  IT’S GOING GREAT, SKYE TAPPED OUT ON HER phone as she stood in the back hall of the auditorium. We’re having a good time.

  I call bullcrap on that. Nobody ever took time to text their friends in the middle of an actual fun date.

  Clementine had a point, as usual. Skye said, You have to start somewhere, right? Then she glanced up and added, Keith’s back. TTYL.

  “Hey, Madison and Phillip figured out how to jimmy the library lock,” Keith said. “We’re gonna get the six-packs out of the trunk. Come on.”

  “We can drink those later, right?” Skye glanced backward at the doors that led to the auditorium, through which music faintly played. “We’re at the dance, Keith. We ought to dance.”

  “But all the guys are in the library,” he said, like the whole point of going to a dance was to hang out with as many of your friends as possible, as far from the actual dancing as possible. Evernight’s Autumn Ball would have been lost on him. “What, you don’t drink or something?”

  “It’s not that. It’s just—” Forget it, she decided. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.” By which she meant, never, if she could swing another ride home.

  Keith said, “Sure thing!” as he started jogging back toward the library. Obviously he was completely unconcerned whether she stayed with him or not. Why shouldn’t he be? She didn’t care any more than he did. For him, she was just his excuse to come to the dance; for her, he was just proof that somebody out there might eventually want her, even if Balthazar didn’t.

  Balthazar did want her, though. She knew that. The memory of the two hungry kisses they’d shared rippled through her. Skye had thought if she pulled back, she’d stop longing for him, but her longing had only become sharper. She wanted him to ride beside her, to make dry comments in study hall, to spar with her until she was breathing fast and her heart pumped wildly—Skye missed both everything they’d had and everything they should have had.

  Give me More, she thought, but the joke fell flat even in her own head.

  She wanted to walk back onto the dance floor. Being watched by Balthazar was hotter than being held by Keith. And she’d chosen this dress, these nude shoes, her hair, her makeup, everything, thinking only of how Balthazar would feel when he saw her.

  But her walking back out there alone would look like she was begging him to notice her again, or to take that next step, and she wouldn’t beg. Also, she’d be all by herself in front of Craig and Britnee; she was doing better with that, but not better enough to let them see her apparently ditched by her date for the evening.

  Maybe she could just walk through quickly, go to the door, and snag a ride with somebody who was leaving, like couples were starting to do…

  Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and Skye turned to see Redgrave standing next to her. “Shall we dance?”

  She gasped and started backing away, but Redgrave made no immediate move to follow. He was as debonair as ever—dark gold hair immaculately slicked back, his suit a deep tan that matched his skin. His attire was appropriate for the occasion, complete with elegantly knotted cream silk tie at his throat. His hazel eyes looked less like those of a human and more like those of a wolf.

  “I’ll scream,” Skye managed to say. “Someone will come.”

  “Someone will. One of your dear school chums, I suppose. It makes no difference to me, because whoever runs through that door first will be the next person I kill. Do you really want blood on your hands?”

  “You won’t kill them if it’s Balthazar. He’s here.” Though she knew better how to defend herself now, she also knew exactly how much of a chance she stood against Redgrave on her own.

  “I realize that. But we don’t want to drag him into this, do we? Or take the chance that he won’t be first through the door?” He smiled at her gently and gave her a quick, courtly half bow. “I only asked for a dance, my dear. And, of course, for that conversation you owe me. You don’t seem at all the type to break her word.”

  Skye had made that promise to save Balthazar’s life, but she’d envisioned Redgrave finding her in Café Keats again or some other neutral ground. Not here, in a half-lighted hallway, when she was all alone.

  Balthazar’s on the other side of the door, she reminded herself. Stay here so that if anything happens, you can scream or run for it. This is as good a place as any to get this over with. “All right. If you want to talk, talk.”

  “I also want to dance.”

  “I didn’t promise you a dance.”

  Redgrave laughed softly. “But you want to dance, too, don’t you?”

  The strangest sensation settled over her—not real emotions, but a weird sort of echo of love and desire. Skye could almost feel the weight of it, light but inescapable, like a shroud. She found herself lifting her arms into dancing position, and Redgrave smoothly slipped into her unwilling embrace.

  “What are you doing to me?” she managed to say.

  “A very few of us can do this. It takes a thousand years or so to age into the gift, but when it comes, ah, everything becomes so much easier. The effect doesn’t usually last long—so don’t worry, you’ll be repelled by me again soon enough.” Redgrave began to sway back and forth with her. “Evolution works for all creatures, you know. Not just the living. And nothing says ‘survival of the fittest’ like the ability to hypnotize your prey into remaining still just long enough to be bitten.”

  He’s going to bite me! Skye wanted to pull away, but her body didn’t obey. She just kept dancing, a marionette to his will. “You get one conversation. Use it.”

  He ran his cool fingers down her spine, pausing just long enough to dip his fingers in slightly beneath the back of her dress. “You should join me. If you don’t, you’ll regret it. I mean that sincerely. You’ve proved to be a resourceful and courageous girl—and quite a lovely one, if I may say so.” Redgrave dropped a kiss on her shoulder, which made her want to shove him away with all her strength. His hold on her remained fast.

  At least she could still speak the words she wanted. “One, I’m not joining you. I don’t want to be a vampire. And two, get your hands off me.”

  “After this dance,” Redgrave promised, as his hands shifted lower on her back and pulled her close so that their bodies were pressed against each other. “I told you before, my dear. Joining me doesn’t mean becoming a vampire. There’s no saying whether your miraculous blood would still have its power after the change, which means I’m not willing to take the risk.”

  “So, what, then? I pay my membership dues, get the secret decoder ring?”

  He chuckled slightly. “I want you to agree to come with me. To remain by my side, under my protection, and to give me or any vampire I choose a taste of your blood when we wish it. I promise you, if you do that, we’ll never take so much as to make you ill or weak. Scarcity is half the value, you know. You’ll have all the trappings of wealth. My tribe will serve you as ardently as they serve me. If you liked, we could make this a very pleasant arrangement—” His hands settled on her hips, making it clear what he meant by that. “But if you wish to keep matters on a professional basis, you may have whatever companions you wish. Except Balthazar, of course. He’s a rogue. A menace to his own kind. That
won’t do at all.”

  “Why is it so important to you that I join you if you’re just going to take me anyway?”

  “Easier, for one,” he said. “More agreeable, also, and I like things to be agreeable and easy. Despite what Balthazar might have told you, I’m actually rather generous as long as I get my way.” As if that was some great virtue, Skye thought. “Besides, there’s a particular sweetness in bending someone’s will that mere force cannot possess. The deaths of the More family? A night’s entertainment. Slowly turning Charity into my most devoted progeny? Unending bliss.”

  “Is that supposed to be your sales pitch?” Already she could begin to feel some of her will returning to her; the ghostly shimmers of false pleasure she’d felt at Redgrave’s touch had started to fade. “There’s nothing I want more than to be rid of you. Forever. I’m not coming with you, no matter what.”

  “You say that before I describe the alternative.” Redgrave’s hands went to her hands around his neck and seized them both; the pressure was hard, crushing. Meant to hurt. He pushed her back—dance over—but kept her in his powerful grip. “You will come with me, Skye. By your will or against your will. As I’ve said, I’d prefer it if you chose this path. And much less trouble than keeping you captive. But if I have to build you a cage, girl—I will.”

  “Let me go,” Skye said. Finally her body returned to her, and she jerked back as hard as she could, but it wasn’t enough to break his hold. “I’ll never do it.”

  “I could do so much for you, Skye. Why don’t you choose a man who really wants you? Who knows what he is and doesn’t run away from it?”

  The reminder of Balthazar’s rejection stung, but not enough to distract Skye from what she had to do.

  “I would never choose you.” With that, she kneed Redgrave between the legs as hard as she could.

  Somehow Redgrave still held on to her, but she had the satisfaction of seeing his face contort in pain as he half doubled over. As he swore, Skye kept trying to tug herself free of him, and at least managed to tow them a few steps closer to the door before he recovered himself, gasping, “That wasn’t nice.”

  “Let go of me, you son of a bitch!”

  “Why are you carrying on so? I’m not going to hurt you tonight. Nothing’s going to change tonight, nothing at all. This is merely your chance to learn more about what will happen.” Redgrave’s expression betrayed his smoothly handsome face; at last she could see the monster within. “Let me tell you what your life’s going to be like in the cage.”

  Skye jerked back again—just in time for Redgrave to be flung bodily away from her, into the wall.

  Balthazar stood there—in from the side hallway, silent as a cat, so that she hadn’t heard him approaching. His hands were clenched into fists, and again it hit her just how enormous a man he was. “Get out of here,” he said to Redgrave, reaching into his pocket and revealing a stake. Was he keeping that on him at all times? Not a bad idea. “Get the hell out of here, now.”

  Redgrave rose, attempting to collect himself. But the eerie light in his eyes was more inhuman than ever. “Why so furious? I only came here to talk—that’s all.”

  “You were touching her.”

  Something deep in Skye’s chest fluttered, turned over.

  Redgrave began backing away, but he said, “It’s too late, Balthazar. The others are coming. They know about Skye. They’re eager for a taste. And what won’t they do to get it?”

  “You sound like a drug dealer,” Skye snapped.

  Balthazar’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God. That’s it. You don’t want her blood for yourself at all; you want others to do your bidding in order to get it.”

  Redgrave grinned. “I expected you to catch on before now, Balthazar. You’ve always been clever—clever enough, at least. How you went on and on about Skye’s blood as a drug, without ever realizing the possibilities. I realized them as soon as Lorenzo let me drink from him. Virtually any vampire on earth would do anything … anything, if it meant they could feel the experience of life again.”

  It was too much at once, but Skye kept trying to put it all together. “You—you said scarcity was half the value. That’s why you’d only bleed me bit by bit. You want my blood to be hard to get, so the others will have to come through you.”

  “As indeed they will,” Redgrave said. “Think of the potential, Balthazar. It’s been more than a century since we last had a prince. Don’t you think we’re overdue?”

  Balthazar backed closer to Skye, his arm out, as if attempting to shield her from even the idea of this. “You want to start the old wars over again. Claim absolute power for yourself.”

  Redgrave said, “I waited as long as I could. This really is easier if you cooperate, Skye. But the word has spread. The messengers with the shades of Lorenzo’s blood have traveled far and wide—beyond this continent, almost across the world. They all know where to find you.”

  Skye clutched at Balthazar’s shoulders. He’d just barely managed to keep her protected from half a dozen vampires; no matter how strong or how fast he was, or how hard he tried, he couldn’t protect her from hundreds.

  “You see it now.” Redgrave put his hands behind his back; his old polish had been restored to him, as if neither of them had landed a blow on him tonight. “You’re a vital resource, Skye. One I intend to exploit. And that’s why you should join me—because I have the ability to think long term. To plan ahead. That’s why I see the wisdom of keeping you alive. Most of the other vampires who will mass here within the month? They’ll want nothing more than to drain you dry.”

  “They won’t all follow you,” Balthazar said. “Some are too decent to do it. And others will fight you. Soon the wars won’t even be about her blood anymore.”

  “The noble ones are harder to marshal now than they were before, aren’t they? Without Evernight Academy to bind them together, they’re more truly lost souls than ever. And Skye’s blood will give me power beyond any other. Loyalty beyond any other.” He took a few steps back, becoming part of the shadows farther down the hall. “It’s too late to stop it, Balthazar. But it’s not too late to join me, even if she won’t. Bring her to me and save yourself.”

  Balthazar threw the stake so hard and fast that Skye didn’t even recognize it until after Redgrave dodged it—but only barely. A bright red line welled up along his high cheekbone, though the blood didn’t flow out. Because his heart didn’t beat, Skye supposed. Balthazar said, “You’ll die for this.”

  “Doesn’t matter if I do,” Redgrave pointed out. “They’ll still come.” Then he melted into the dark and was gone.

  Skye breathed out, half a sob, and put her hand to her chest. “Oh, God. Balthazar, what are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” He remained tense, at the ready, like he still hoped for a chance to kill Redgrave with his bare hands.

  “Will it happen like Redgrave says it will?”

  “Probably.” Balthazar’s frustration was palpable—he kept clenching and unclenching his fists, rocking on his feet, like he needed to beat the hell out of something but didn’t have anything handy. Skye could recognize that feeling, because she had it herself.

  “What am I going to do?”

  “You should leave town. Get away from here—from me, too. Someplace where Redgrave won’t know to look for you.”

  “I can’t leave my parents.”

  “They’ve already left you.”

  The harshness was one thing more than she could bear. “Don’t say that! They need me to be strong for them! They already lost Dakota—”

  “That’s why they can’t lose you, too,” Balthazar said. “Please, Skye. If anything happened to you, I couldn’t bear it.” He glanced at her over his shoulder, and in his eyes she saw raw fear, raw need. She knew that she’d meant to keep her distance from him, but that seemed absurd. As if she could ever be parted from Balthazar—he was always in her, always a part of her.

  Down the hall, someone—Coach Haladki?—yelled
, “Hey, is somebody back here? We’re closing this place up!”

  “They shouldn’t see us,” Skye whispered, looking around quickly for some kind of exit, but Balthazar found it first.

  “Come on,” he murmured, pulling both of them into a nearby closet and softly pulling the door shut behind them.

  Now they were hidden—and they were face-to-face, only inches apart, in a small and very dark space. Skye put her hands against his chest, though she didn’t know whether it was to keep them slightly apart or to touch him however she could.

  “Hello? Being locked in until Monday morning isn’t going to be any fun!” Coach Haladki’s footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Then, in a normal voice, she said, “Jesus, what is this? A tent peg or something? Are they camping in here? Somebody’s getting suspended.”

  So quietly it was barely a sound, Skye said, “You found me.”

  “It took me too long. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight—I went after you when you walked out, but I only saw Keith and followed him—then I had to bust Madison and the rest of them for drinking in the library, which was idiotic, but I was stuck.”

  “Will you come on?” Ms. Loos’s voice came from farther down the hallway. “Nobody’s here.”

  “I thought I heard voices!” Coach Haladki protested.

  Ms. Loos replied, fake-sweet, “Maybe it was the echo of your amazingly loud voice that never stops talking.”

  “Fine. If they were here, they’re gone. Let’s lock up.” Coach Haladki walked off, her footsteps becoming fainter with each step.

  Balthazar’s hands covered hers. She realized only at his touch how icy with shock her fingers were; he was the one warming her. “Redgrave didn’t hurt you, did he?”