Hourglass

“We can take care of each other.”

Lucas embraced me tightly, and for a few seconds, I didn’t have to pretend we were anywhere else.

“Lucas!” Eduardo’s voice echoed against the concrete and metal. We looked up to see him nearby, arms folded across his chest. Sweat made a dark V on the front of his T-shirt. Lucas and I drew away from each other. It wasn’t that we were ashamed, but nobody could kill a romantic mood faster than Eduardo. “I want you to walk the perimeter on the first shift tonight.”

“I went two nights ago,” Lucas protested. “It’s not my turn yet.”

This only made Eduardo’s scowl blacker. “Since when do you start whining about turns, like a kid on the playground who wants the swings?”

“Since you stopped even pretending to be fair. Back off, okay?”

“Or what? You’ll run to your mommy? Because Kate wants to see some proof of your dedication, Lucas. We all do.”

He meant, because of me. Lucas had broken Black Cross rules many times so that we could be together—more than the others in this cell knew.

Lucas wasn’t backing down. “I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since the fire. I’m not spending another night in the drainage ditch outside, waiting for nothing.”

Eduardo’s dark eyes narrowed. “At any second, we could have a vampire tribe on our trail—”

“And whose fault would that be? After your stunt at Evernight Academy—”

“Stunt?”

“Time out!” Dana, fresh from her shower and smelling strongly of cheap soap, held her hands in a T between Lucas and Eduardo. Her long braids fell over the thin, damp towel looped around her neck. “Chill, okay? In case you lost count, Eduardo, it’s actually my turn to take a shift tonight. I don’t feel so tired anyway.”

Eduardo never liked being vetoed, but he couldn’t refuse a willing volunteer. “Suit yourself, Dana.”

“Why don’t I bring Raquel out with me?” she suggested, smoothly steering the conversation away from Lucas. “My girl’s chomping at the bit to do more.”

“Raquel’s too new. Forget it.” Apparently Eduardo felt better for having been able to put his foot down. He stalked off.

“Thanks,” I said to Dana. “Are you sure you aren’t too tired?”

She grinned. “What, do you think I’m going to be dragging butt tomorrow like Lucas did today? No way.”

Lucas pretended to punch her arm, and she mock-sneered at him. They pretty much gave each other hell all the time without meaning a word of it. I thought that Dana might be Lucas’s best friend. Certainly only a real friend would take a perimeter-search shift, which involved—as Lucas put it—a whole lot of stooping, a whole lot of mud, and almost no sleep.

Soon everyone around us was preparing for bed. The only privacy any of us had was the “wall”—actually a bunch of old sheets hung over a clothesline—between the men’s half of the room and the women’s. Lucas and I were both right up against the sheet, separated only by a few inches and one thin cotton cloth. Sometimes I was reassured by the fact that he was so close; other times, the frustration made me want to scream.

It’s not forever, I reminded myself as I changed into the borrowed T-shirt I slept in. The pajamas I’d escaped in had been ruined in the fire; the only thing I wore that belonged to me was the obsidian pendant I’d gotten from my parents that hung around my neck at all times, even when I was in the shower. The jet brooch Lucas had given me while we were first dating was tucked into the small bag they’d given me. I didn’t think of myself as especially materialistic, but losing nearly everything I’d ever owned had been a blow. So I treasured the few things I had left.

When Kate called “Lights out,” somebody flipped the switch almost that instant. I burrowed under the thin, army-style blanket over my folding cot. It wasn’t soft, and it definitely wasn’t comfortable—cots suck—but I was so exhausted that any chance to rest was welcome.

To my left, Raquel was already asleep. She slept better here than she ever had at Evernight.

To my right, invisible behind the slowly rippling white sheet, was Lucas.

I imagined the outline of his body, what he looked like lying down on his cot. I fantasized about tiptoeing to his side and sliding in next to him. But we’d be seen. I sighed, giving up the idea.

This was the fourth night I’d done that. And, just as I’d done the other four nights, once I stopped being frustrated about my inability to be with Lucas, I started worrying.

Mom and Dad have to be okay, I told myself. I remembered the blaze too well—the way the flames had leaped up around me and the thickness of the smoke. It would’ve been easy to get lost, to get trapped. Fire was one of the only ways to truly kill a vampire. They have centuries of experience. They’ve been in worse trouble before. Remember what Mom told you about the Great Fire of London? If she made it through that, she could make it out of Evernight.

But Mom hadn’t made it out of the Great Fire. She’d been terribly injured and near death; my father had “rescued” her by turning her into a vampire like himself.

I hadn’t exactly been on great terms with my parents lately. That didn’t mean I wanted them to be hurt. Just the thought of them weak and injured—or worse—made me sick to my stomach.

They weren’t the only ones I was worried about. Had Vic been able to get out of the burning school? What about Balthazar? As a vampire, he might have been targeted by Black Cross—or by his psychotic, vengeful sister, Charity, who had nearly prevented me, Lucas, and Raquel from escaping. Or what about poor Ranulf? He was a vampire, but one so gentle and unworldly that it was easy to imagine the hunters of Black Cross wiping him out.