Falling to Ash

by Karen Mahoney

  We stared at each other for a good thirty seconds.

  ‘How did you know where I live?’ It was all I could think of to say.

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re way too easy to find.’

  Oh. My. God. If I could still hyperventilate, that’s exactly what I would be doing. As it was, I had to lean against the wall next to him and force out a couple breaths. It made me feel better.

  ‘Is there a problem?’

  Bastard. ‘Now I have to move apartments.’

  ‘Why?’ He made a big show of examining the place. ‘Nice neighborhood. Lots of Italian food practically on your doorstep.’

  Bastard! I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him some more.

  He winked. ‘No, it’s cool. I won’t tell anyone where you keep your coffin.’

  I felt an illogical stab of guilt. He and his father had been forced to move after my first encounter with the younger Murdoch at Thomas Murdoch’s Boston apartment.

  Jace broke into my thoughts. ‘You didn’t reply to my text.’

  ‘Oh!’ I remembered getting the message before the Family meeting. Unsurprisingly, it had slipped my mind.

  He looked amused. ‘I take it, from your deeply intelligent response, that you at least got it?’

  ‘Yeah. Sorry. Wasn’t exactly a priority at the time.’ I crossed my arms across my chest. ‘What did you mean about “sharing info”?’

  ‘Exactly what I said. I’ve been doing some research into our friend, Rick. I’m assuming you’ve spoken to your Maker about it by now?’

  I nodded. ‘But can this wait? I’m really tired, I need to sleep.’ And I couldn’t exactly invite him in because then Holly really would kill me. Although she wasn’t actually here, that much was true. She was staying with her friend – the brunette vampire, who I found out was called Alanya – at Subterranean.

  ‘Cool. Why don’t you come over to my place tomorrow night? Well, I guess that’s this evening, really.’

  ‘OK,’ I said carefully. I was sort of waiting for the catch. Couldn’t really help it when Jace was around. Was it a trap? But I should go, right? I might find some clue as to where Murdoch Senior had gone. Theo didn’t know where the hunter was currently based, and now I had to think about the task set him by the Elders. And about how our survival rested on his ability to find and kill Jace’s father.

  I swallowed, feeling like a traitor. Then I mentally kicked myself for being such a wuss. It wasn’t like Jason Murdoch and I were BFFs.

  ‘OK?’ he repeated. ‘That’s all you have to say?’

  ‘No, I have plenty to say.’ I pouted, trying to think of something to say.

  ‘Who knows,’ he said, with a half-smile, ‘maybe we’ll make a good team.’

  ‘And what will you be bringing to this so-called team?’

  ‘My superior knowledge of how to kill vampires.’ His face was totally deadpan. I honestly couldn’t tell whether or not he was joking.

  ‘And that’s supposed to make me feel better about partnering up with you?’

  He flashed me a grin that was all teeth. If anything, it made me feel worse.

  Chapter Eleven

  I DRIFTED UP from the dreamless dark, staring at the ceiling of my bedroom and trying to remember everything that had happened last night. My head ached, almost as though I was hung-over. Gray light filled the corners of the room like fog.

  I pushed my hair away from my face, shivering as I recalled the sensation as my fangs slid into Theo’s throat, the feel of his body against mine.

  Rolling over, I buried my head under the duvet and tried to forget the taste of Theo’s skin and the fresh blood that I’d taken from him. His blood, but not quite his blood. The mixture of almost-two-hundred-year-old vampire blood and that of the human girl he’d compelled into being his snack for the night was difficult to forget. Human blood alone still bothered me, but my Maker’s was something else entirely. Theo was like a drug that would be impossible to give up.

  And now Jace wanted to ‘share information’ and work together in some way. What was that all about? I wasn’t dumb enough to think he didn’t have some kind of ulterior motive, but I was too curious to pass on the opportunity. Jace . . . interested me. I couldn’t help that. He was the son of a hated vampire hunter, and he clearly had more than his fair share of damage, but he also seemed almost reasonable. At times. And it couldn’t hurt to use him to figure out more about Rick. Perhaps if I showed Theo’s Family that I could be useful, that I had resources, they wouldn’t want me dead.

  I showered and dressed before midday, then spent five minutes looking for my cell phone. Finally found it back where I started, underneath my bed. Frowning, I checked it and realized I had three missed calls, all from Caitlín. Now what? Was she calling to make me feel guilty for not going to dinner? I’d already told her I couldn’t make it. Irritated, I tossed my phone onto the kitchen table, next to the television remote, and set about making coffee. I’d call Caitlín back later.

  The apartment’s buzzer echoed down the hallway the moment I got settled with my coffee. I rolled my eyes and wondered if I could get away with ignoring that as well. It was probably only another delivery of crafting materials for Holly’s business.

  The insistent buzzing of the intercom ruined my first sip of coffee. ‘All right, I’m coming!’ I muttered under my breath as I muted the TV and shuffled to the door in black fluffy slippers shaped like bats. They were Holly’s, but she didn’t have to know I was making use of them while she was staying away from home. ‘What?’ I stabbed at the intercom’s button so hard the cheap plastic coating cracked.

  The crackle of static interspersed with silence greeted me and I cursed, stomping back into the kitchen. Probably just kids screwing around.

  I’d just sat down again, resting my feet on the shiny wooden table and getting myself comfortable, when someone knocked on the apartment door. OK, now I was seriously pissed. I slammed down my favorite Catwoman mug, watching sadly as coffee sloshed over the sides and onto the table.

  I flung open the door, mentally preparing myself to tell whoever it was to go to hell.

  Which worked out perfectly, because it was my big sister.

  ‘Hello, Marie,’ Sinéad said. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’

  Sinéad had refused coffee and opted for water. She sat on one of the kitchen chairs and looked every inch the ambitious young lawyer-in-training. Today she was dressed casually, but she still managed to look perfectly groomed in an emerald-green blouse, very properly buttoned up, with black jeans and black patent ballet flats. I wished my big sister didn’t always look like she had a particularly long stick shoved up her ass. To be fair to her, Sinéad had the unfortunate role of being the oldest of the O’Neal sisters and therefore the one that our unpredictable father had turned to for support when Mom was sick. After she’d passed away, Sinéad had opted to stay at home with Dad and help him get back on his feet.

  I couldn’t help the sharp stab of resentment toward him, though, for the fact that his grief always took over. What about Caitlín? Our father hadn’t been there for her at all – he couldn’t see beyond his own pain and bitterness.

  Sinéad stopped fiddling with the tall glass I’d given her and pushed it away. ‘I know this is a good area, but isn’t this place a little small for two people?’

  ‘It’s fine, Sinéad.’ She’d never bothered to come here before, which I was glad about. Holly would have even more reason to complain if my human family made regular visits. And she’d rat me out to Theo. ‘Just tell me what’s wrong. You wouldn’t come if it wasn’t something important.’

  My sister looked away and twisted a strand of her thick, red hair. She seemed genuinely distressed, and I began to get that horrible sense of dread in the pit of my stomach.

  I pulled my feet up onto the chair and rested my chin on my knees. ‘Sinéad?’

  ‘It’s Caitlín,’ Sinéad blurted out. ‘She’s gone.’

  My feet hit the floor an
d I was standing before I could stop myself. ‘Gone? What do you mean? Where did she go?’

  ‘Marie, calm down.’ Sinéad’s voice was tight and controlled, something that drove me crazy and made me want to shake my sister’s composure all over again. ‘We’ve already heard from her – she sent me a text message and then called Dad last night – but she wouldn’t say where she was. She said she needed some time alone and that she’s staying with a friend. Honestly, I thought she meant here with you, but I can see that’s not the case.’

  I frowned, sliding back into my seat. ‘You mean . . . she ran away?’ That didn’t make sense. Cait could be impetuous at times, but she also handled problems head on, no running away – she dealt. Didn’t she?

  And anyway, I thought that I had the market cornered on rebellion.

  I scowled at Sinéad. ‘OK, so you thought she might be here. I get that. But she’s not, so where does that leave us?’

  ‘Do you know which friend she’s talking about?’ Sinéad asked. ‘Who she might be staying with?’

  ‘I don’t even know who her friends are anymore.’ Just saying it brought the truth home to me. No wonder Cait was always chasing after me, trying to track me down and get me to go visit. Maybe she was lonely. As much as I loved my little sister, it was becoming more and more obvious that a decision had to be made. Could I tell Caitlín the truth about my existence? What would I do when I still looked eighteen ten years from now? Twenty? What then? Would I have to disappear from my family’s life forever? Life without my baby sister was something I didn’t want to contemplate.

  My older sister sighed. She looked tired and I felt vaguely guilty for always giving her such a hard time. ‘When was the last time you spoke to her?’

  ‘She called me on Friday morning.’ I glanced at my phone. ‘And I had missed calls from her this morning. No messages.’ I fiddled with my coffee mug, tracing the faint lines that spider-webbed its crimson surface. I’d slammed the cup down one too many times in a fit of temper. I sighed. I knew I couldn’t have Sinéad come here again. ‘I’ll call you if I hear from her, OK? I promise. And I’ll keep calling her.’

  Sinéad’s perfectly plucked eyebrows rose. ‘You don’t sound very worried. A minute ago you were leaping up and looked ready to go walking the streets until you found her.’

  ‘Of course I’m worried. I’m freaking out, OK? But you already said you’ve heard from her. Maybe she really is just visiting a friend. She’s not a child anymore.’ A statement that I still found hard to accept.

  ‘She’s sixteen. I want her back home and she should be in school. They told me that she cut classes on Friday, and now this.’

  ‘Did something happen? Did she have a fight with Dad? Or with you?’

  Anger splotched her cheeks. ‘Dad wouldn’t upset Caitlín and you know it. He adores her.’

  ‘But that doesn’t stop him from ignoring her and drinking too much,’ I muttered.

  ‘Don’t speak about our father like that.’ Sinéad’s tone was sharp.

  ‘“Father”? What kind of a father has he been during the past year? He’s hardly ever present, unless he’s had enough booze to deal with the fact that he actually has a family! He may have drunk away his job, but he still has kids.’

  The color drained from my sister’s face almost as quickly as it had appeared. I could hear her heart beat. ‘And I could say the same about you! You left us when Mom died. You dropped out of college, live with a stranger, and spend your time running around the city doing God only knows what. Mom would be ashamed of you!’

  I took a step back. If my sister had hit me it probably would have been better than this. I sometimes wondered if Sinéad hated me for being Mom’s favorite – even though our mother had done everything in her power to hide it – or whether she just didn’t like me. After Mom died, I’d fallen apart. Fallen into Theo’s arms.

  It wasn’t my fault that I’d dropped out of sight. Was it?

  Sinéad pushed past me and headed for the door. ‘I’ll let you know if we hear from her,’ she said, not even bothering to turn around as she stalked down the tiny entrance hallway.

  ‘Wait,’ I said, immediately regretting the pleading note in my voice. Why did I always get this way around my family?

  ‘There’s nothing else to say, Marie. If you could tell me the minute Caitlín gets in touch with you, that’s the best thing you can do for all of us.’ Sinéad had her hand on the door latch, but she wasn’t actually leaving, which I took as a hopeful sign.

  ‘Sinéad, look at me for a moment.’ I cleared my throat. ‘Please?’

  My sister’s hand fell back to her side and she turned around, surprise evident on her face. ‘What?’

  I wanted to say so much. The words were all there, crushed into the tight space of my throat. Words that meant reaching out, making myself vulnerable. Revealing secrets that could get everybody I loved killed.

  I dropped my eyes to the worn gray carpet. ‘I only wanted to say that I’ll go out and look for Caitlín. There are places we’ve had coffee before. I’ll try those.’ My voice was husky and I felt on the verge of tears.

  Sinéad’s lips tightened for a moment, but then she nodded. ‘OK, that’s a good idea.’ Her hand went back to the door and she turned away. ‘Thank you.’

  I watched my sister walk into the spacious public corridor.

  I headed back inside and steadied myself against the kitchen counter. I had to look for Caitlín. She was still only a kid, Sinéad was right. She shouldn’t be out there alone, no matter how grown up she thought she was.

  Grabbing my boots, I started lacing them up, my mind racing. I glanced up at the silent television screen and realized that the local news was on. Something about Boston Common . . . Maybe there was some kind of festival happening today. Something Caitlín might want to go to? But I didn’t want to risk getting caught up with crowds of tourists either. I snatched the remote from the table and punched up the volume so I could catch the end of the broadcast.

  The perfectly groomed newscaster flashed into view, adjusting his pastel tie. His face presented a melodramatic picture of concern, slightly marred by his glaring white teeth and fake tan. ‘ . . . and the police have no comment at this time. They advise avoiding the Common and surrounding roads for the foreseeable future.’

  Another image appeared, this one taken with what appeared to be a shaky handheld camera – perhaps from a cell phone. I couldn’t make anything out clearly, but it looked like someone was lying down in a pile of fallen leaves. I was pretty certain it was a human figure, but the lighting was terrible and there was no way of seeing details. The one thing that stood out, though, was a quick glimpse of long red hair. Caitlín?

  My throat burned and I squeezed the remote so tightly that it shattered. ‘Crap!’ I brushed plastic shards off my lap and ran to the TV, manually adjusting the sound so I could hear properly.

  The newscaster continued: ‘This footage was taken by two teenagers this morning, and an inside source reports that the victim could have been mauled by an animal. The area has been cordoned off in the last half-hour, but speculation is growing that this girl could be the third in a series of deaths that began on Friday. The Commissioner urges calm, and will make a full statement this afternoon at . . .’

  My ears were buzzing so badly I couldn’t listen to any more. Long red hair on that ‘victim’ couldn’t possibly mean Caitlín, could it? It was a ridiculous, crazy coincidence. Nausea hit me like a punch to the gut, and I had to force myself to take a deep breath.

  It didn’t help.

  And what did the newscaster mean by this being the third victim? Was there someone else, someone other than Rick who’d already been killed? Or were they talking about Nurse Fox? What if this new victim – who couldn’t be my sister – went the same way as Rick? I didn’t know what I could do at a major crime scene surrounded by the police and media, but I needed to at least try.

  And then I wondered if maybe I could get some back-up. Hadn
’t Jace told me, just last night, that he wanted to share information? Well, fine. I’d give him some information.

  The phone rang several times before somebody picked up. If it was Jace, he was waiting for me to speak first.

  ‘Hello?’

  Silence.

  I frowned. ‘Um . . . Jace? Are you there?’

  ‘Moth?’

  ‘Yes,’ I replied. What was up with him?

  I heard a rustling sound, then his voice returned, muffled. ‘Sorry, I didn’t recognize the number. Haven’t programmed you in properly yet. What do you want?’

  ‘Switch on the TV – there’s been another attack. Maybe it’s the same as before.’

  ‘And?’

  I huffed a little. ‘You said to let you know if anything happened! Well, something happened. Something big.’

  ‘OK, I’ll try to meet you there.’

  I frowned, annoyed that he wasn’t committing to it. ‘Do you have better things to do?’

  He hesitated. ‘I’m looking for my dad.’

  ‘Oh. Listen, my sister’s gone missing too, you know. I want to look for her – I need to find her – but someone died. Badly, by the sounds of things. We should check it out.’ And that person might even be my sister, a nasty voice whispered in my head.

  I didn’t believe it. Not really. I couldn’t.

  Jace lowered his voice, like he didn’t want someone else who might be there to hear him. ‘I can’t talk now, but I will try to get over there.’

  ‘Fine.’ I wondered what he was hiding.

  ‘Be careful.’

  ‘Really? Aw, shucks. I might start thinking you care—’

  He disconnected.

  I rolled my eyes at the phone and pushed Jason Murdoch out of my mind. There were far more important things happening in the world.

  I raced down and out of the building and hailed a cab.

  Chapter Twelve

  THE SKY WAS brittle-blue and the sun was so bright and jagged that it hurt my eyes, even though I was wearing shades. Was this winter brighter than usual? Maybe it’s always been like this, that nasty little voice whispered at the back of my mind. You’re getting more and more sensitive. Soon you won’t even be able to go outside at all in daylight, and you’ll have to live in shadows for the rest of your very long life.