When he was almost done preparing, Lucas paused and went to the small drawer where I’d kept my things. His hand closed around the jet brooch he’d given me—it seemed like so long ago—and I could tell he was trying to take strength from it, the way I always had. Quickly he tucked it into the pocket of his shirt.
Oh, Balthazar, I could kill you for this. Please stop, guys, please.
Balthazar leaned against one of the wine racks, so obviously tired and sad that I took pity on him for a second. Then Lucas said, “Let’s get out there.”
“We need weapons,” Balthazar said.
Lucas, who had never gone out for a Black Cross hunt or even a visit with me without being armed to the teeth, said only, “We’ll figure something out.”
They walked out the door, and I meant to follow—but I couldn’t. About halfway down the path to the driveway, I found I couldn’t go any farther. I seemed to be stuck there, watching them climb into Balthazar’s car.
As Lucas settled into the shotgun seat, I saw his eyes narrow as he looked at the spot where I stood. As Balthazar gunned the car’s motor into life, and they sped off, he turned his head away. Maybe he wondered if he saw something; probably he figured it was only a trick of the light.
Chapter Twenty-two
LONG AFTER BALTHAZAR’S CAR HAD DISAPPEARED down the road, I stayed where I was, looking forlornly into the distance. I had no reason to remain outdoors, but apparently I’d be haunting the wine cellar forever. So I’d be sick of that place soon enough.
“You’re more than a little pathetic, you know.”
“Shut up, Maxie,” I muttered.
“How about you shut up and actually listen to me for a change?” Maxie’s presence became more substantial. The first thing I could see was not her hair or her body but one arched, skeptical eyebrow, as if she were some snarky version of the Cheshire cat. “I can help you, you know. And I know the others who could help you, too. So it might be a good time to stop treating me like something you scraped off the bottom of your shoe.”
“How can you help me when I’m already dead?”
It was a rhetorical question, but she answered. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?”
“Okay.”
Maxie took shape at last, but as she became more solid, the lawn around me became misty and translucent. Before I knew it, we were inside the wine cellar, standing near the bed where I’d died.
“That’s a little more like it.” Her smile looked too satisfied for my taste, but she really did have the advantage. “I figured you’d come around eventually.”
“I haven’t ‘come around’ to anything,” I spat. “You guys fought the vampires for me. You won. Either way, I lost.”
“You act like there was some possibility for you to have a normal life. Well, guess what? That was never going to happen. You were born to join the undead. That’s your nature—who you are and why you’re here. Blaming me for it is ridiculous.”
“I think you’ve been dead so long that you’ve forgotten what being alive means.”
Maxie cocked her head. “You’re probably right. It’ll happen to you, too.”
Forget being alive? Never. Forgetting life would mean forgetting so many wonderful things; it would mean forgetting Lucas. And that could never happen. “You say you can help me. I suggest you prove it.”
“Fine.” Maxie gestured toward the little cardboard drawers where I’d kept my things. “Get your coral bracelet.”
“What is it with you and the jewelry?”
“Pick up your bracelet and you’ll see.”
How did she expect me to pick anything up? It wasn’t like I had real hands any longer, only the illusion. Thinking I would show Maxie how stupid her suggestion was, I scooped my fingers into the open drawer—and felt the silver and coral, wonderfully solid. I brought the bracelet up and stared at the hazy reflection in the glass window of the microwave: a shimmering blue light in which a bracelet dangled, apparently suspended in midair. I was too amazed to say a word.
Maxie tossed her blond hair with a smirk. “Told ya.”
“How is this even possible?”
“Material objects that we bonded to strongly before we died—like the door of your house, maybe, or a diary or in your case some jewelry you cared about a whole lot—connect us to the real world. You’re lucky, too, because that’s coral. Coral is one of the most powerful materials for us, because we’ve got something in common. Can you guess what it is?”
“We were both once alive.” I touched the red coral and imagined its life beneath the sea, so long ago.
Maxie didn’t look thrilled that I’d guessed correctly and stolen her thunder. “Well. All of us can use things and places like that. Since you’re a born wraith, one of the pure ones, I guess you’ll be pretty good at it. With a lot of practice, you might be able to do something with that bracelet. See why I told you not to let Lucas bury it with you?”
“Thanks.” For the first time my gratitude was completely sincere. Instead of lording that over me, Maxie dropped her eyes, almost bashful. “What do you mean, ‘do something?’”
“I’ve heard that wraiths like you—well, you might be able to get a physical body back, at least for a little while. Supposedly it takes a lot of practice—though….”
Maxie’s voice trailed off as I concentrated hard on the bracelet in my grip. I remembered Lucas giving it to me, the love between us on that day, and that made the stones seem even more real. First I willed all my strength into the hand holding the bracelet and—to my amazement—the hand appeared in the reflection. The solidity swept through me, like a warm sort of shudder, and then I stood there, my reflection identical to the way it had been a few days ago when I lived, albeit a little paler. A smile spread across my face as I knocked against the wall and heard it thump, then tossed the covers on the bed and watched them obediently flip back.
“Well, that was quick,” Maxie said crossly.
“I have a body.” I laughed, and it felt like a laugh. No, it wasn’t being alive; there was no joy or warmth in this body, and I knew it wasn’t my home. But at least I had substance again. If Lucas were here, I could hug him, even kiss him; we could talk like normal people. “This is incredible.”
“You won’t be able to have a body all the time. Even Christopher can’t do that.” Maxie seemed to enjoy diminishing my pleasure, although it was beyond her power to ruin it. “And it won’t really fix anything. But at least you can get some stuff done this way.”
I sighed. “This is definitely the best thing to happen to me since I died.”
Then I wondered who this Christopher person was, but I didn’t have time to ask her about him. A car’s tires crunched on the gravel driveway, and excitement made me leap toward the door—which I now had to open instead of floating through. I believed it would be Balthazar and Lucas returning home. Surely Balthazar had thought better of taking Lucas on a hunt tonight. Instead, I saw a sunshine yellow convertible pulling up; inside rode Vic and Ranulf.
“What are they doing back?” I muttered. Maxie peeked over my shoulder. “Oh, wait—Lucas said he wrote Vic and told him I was sick. He must have convinced his parents to let him leave Tuscany so he could come back to look in on me.”
“Then he’s running a bit late,” Maxie pointed out.
Ignoring her, I turned and ran toward the driveway. She shouted, “What are you doing?”
“Saying hello to my friends!”
“You can’t just go out there—Bianca, you’re dead!”
I wondered if that meant some invisible force field or something would stop me, but it didn’t. When I bounded out into the yard, Vic’s face lit up in a grin, and Ranulf gave me a quick wave.
“Hey there, Binks,” Vic called. “Looks like you’re on the mend!”
“Vic!” I hugged him tightly, and I’d never been so glad simply to be able to hug another person. He smelled like cologne, which I usually found stinky, but it was the first thing I’d really smelled since I died. Who knew men’s cologne could smell so fantastic? “Oh, I missed you.”
“Likewise,” he said. “Sorry I woke you up. Or are you still recuperating?”
Vic was talking about the pajamas I still wore. Apparently the coral bracelet couldn’t do anything about them. “It’s kind of a long story. Also a weird story.”
“Come on.” Vic straightened his trucker cap on his head, like he was getting ready for serious business. “How much weirder could our story get?”
“You’d be surprised,” I said weakly.
Ranulf straightened, and his gaze shifted from friendliness to wariness. “Vic,” he said, “something is very different about Bianca.”
“Huh?” Vic looked between me and Ranulf, not getting it.
“She feels a little clammy, but that’s about it.”
“Her very nature is changed.” Ranulf’s eyes narrowed. For the first time, he did not look like an innocent; I caught a glimpse of the fiercer man he must have been long ago. “I do not think she is still a vampire.”
“What?” Vic grinned. “All human now? Bianca, that’s awesome.”
“That’s not quite how it went,” I said. “Can you guys come inside? We really need to talk, and you have to find Lucas.”
Vic started to follow me inside; Ranulf, still suspicious, came along, too, but hung back several steps. “What’s wrong with Lucas?” Vic asked. “Where did he go?”
“He left with Balthazar.”
“Balthazar? Your ex?” Vic’s eyebrows rose so high they vanished beneath the brim of his hat. “Okay, this is getting good.”
“Let’s just get inside, okay?” As I gestured toward the door, the bracelet slipped from my fingers. The moment that happened, I disappeared—or almost disappeared, since a blue, smoky image remained where my arm had just been.
Vic jumped back so fast he nearly fell over. “What the what?”
“She is no longer a vampire,” Ranulf said, steadying himself like he expected a fight. “She is a wraith.”
“A wraith? You mean, a ghost? Bianca’s a ghost? That’s impossible.”
Concentrating hard, I managed to close my hand around the bracelet again and will my form back into being. Vic and Ranulf stared at me, slack jawed, the whole time. Neither of them spoke a word.
Once I had my shape back, I said, “It’s possible. I’m a wraith now. And, no, Ranulf, I’m not going to hurt you. The old war between ghosts and vampires—as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t have anything to do with me and the people I love.”
Ranulf didn’t look touched, but he didn’t turn away, either.
I asked, “Now are you going to let me explain?”
Vic swallowed hard and nodded. “I think you’d better.”
Half an hour later, as the sky outside darkened, Vic, Ranulf, and I sat around the little table while they took in what I’d just told them. Ranulf, who naturally understood more about the strange rules that governed the undead, seemed to be taking it in. Vic, on the other hand, looked completely flummoxed.
“Okay,” Vic said, “let me see if I have this straight. You died.”
“Yes.” That was never going to get easier to admit, I thought.
“Balthazar showed up, and he and Lucas buried you in the backyard.”
“Right.”
“So there’s a dead body in my backyard, which I have to explain to my parents somehow.”
“I don’t think they’ll find it—it’s behind the grounds, kind of—and, anyway, isn’t that kind of beside the point?”
Oh, Balthazar, I could kill you for this. Please stop, guys, please.
Balthazar leaned against one of the wine racks, so obviously tired and sad that I took pity on him for a second. Then Lucas said, “Let’s get out there.”
“We need weapons,” Balthazar said.
Lucas, who had never gone out for a Black Cross hunt or even a visit with me without being armed to the teeth, said only, “We’ll figure something out.”
They walked out the door, and I meant to follow—but I couldn’t. About halfway down the path to the driveway, I found I couldn’t go any farther. I seemed to be stuck there, watching them climb into Balthazar’s car.
As Lucas settled into the shotgun seat, I saw his eyes narrow as he looked at the spot where I stood. As Balthazar gunned the car’s motor into life, and they sped off, he turned his head away. Maybe he wondered if he saw something; probably he figured it was only a trick of the light.
Chapter Twenty-two
LONG AFTER BALTHAZAR’S CAR HAD DISAPPEARED down the road, I stayed where I was, looking forlornly into the distance. I had no reason to remain outdoors, but apparently I’d be haunting the wine cellar forever. So I’d be sick of that place soon enough.
“You’re more than a little pathetic, you know.”
“Shut up, Maxie,” I muttered.
“How about you shut up and actually listen to me for a change?” Maxie’s presence became more substantial. The first thing I could see was not her hair or her body but one arched, skeptical eyebrow, as if she were some snarky version of the Cheshire cat. “I can help you, you know. And I know the others who could help you, too. So it might be a good time to stop treating me like something you scraped off the bottom of your shoe.”
“How can you help me when I’m already dead?”
It was a rhetorical question, but she answered. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?”
“Okay.”
Maxie took shape at last, but as she became more solid, the lawn around me became misty and translucent. Before I knew it, we were inside the wine cellar, standing near the bed where I’d died.
“That’s a little more like it.” Her smile looked too satisfied for my taste, but she really did have the advantage. “I figured you’d come around eventually.”
“I haven’t ‘come around’ to anything,” I spat. “You guys fought the vampires for me. You won. Either way, I lost.”
“You act like there was some possibility for you to have a normal life. Well, guess what? That was never going to happen. You were born to join the undead. That’s your nature—who you are and why you’re here. Blaming me for it is ridiculous.”
“I think you’ve been dead so long that you’ve forgotten what being alive means.”
Maxie cocked her head. “You’re probably right. It’ll happen to you, too.”
Forget being alive? Never. Forgetting life would mean forgetting so many wonderful things; it would mean forgetting Lucas. And that could never happen. “You say you can help me. I suggest you prove it.”
“Fine.” Maxie gestured toward the little cardboard drawers where I’d kept my things. “Get your coral bracelet.”
“What is it with you and the jewelry?”
“Pick up your bracelet and you’ll see.”
How did she expect me to pick anything up? It wasn’t like I had real hands any longer, only the illusion. Thinking I would show Maxie how stupid her suggestion was, I scooped my fingers into the open drawer—and felt the silver and coral, wonderfully solid. I brought the bracelet up and stared at the hazy reflection in the glass window of the microwave: a shimmering blue light in which a bracelet dangled, apparently suspended in midair. I was too amazed to say a word.
Maxie tossed her blond hair with a smirk. “Told ya.”
“How is this even possible?”
“Material objects that we bonded to strongly before we died—like the door of your house, maybe, or a diary or in your case some jewelry you cared about a whole lot—connect us to the real world. You’re lucky, too, because that’s coral. Coral is one of the most powerful materials for us, because we’ve got something in common. Can you guess what it is?”
“We were both once alive.” I touched the red coral and imagined its life beneath the sea, so long ago.
Maxie didn’t look thrilled that I’d guessed correctly and stolen her thunder. “Well. All of us can use things and places like that. Since you’re a born wraith, one of the pure ones, I guess you’ll be pretty good at it. With a lot of practice, you might be able to do something with that bracelet. See why I told you not to let Lucas bury it with you?”
“Thanks.” For the first time my gratitude was completely sincere. Instead of lording that over me, Maxie dropped her eyes, almost bashful. “What do you mean, ‘do something?’”
“I’ve heard that wraiths like you—well, you might be able to get a physical body back, at least for a little while. Supposedly it takes a lot of practice—though….”
Maxie’s voice trailed off as I concentrated hard on the bracelet in my grip. I remembered Lucas giving it to me, the love between us on that day, and that made the stones seem even more real. First I willed all my strength into the hand holding the bracelet and—to my amazement—the hand appeared in the reflection. The solidity swept through me, like a warm sort of shudder, and then I stood there, my reflection identical to the way it had been a few days ago when I lived, albeit a little paler. A smile spread across my face as I knocked against the wall and heard it thump, then tossed the covers on the bed and watched them obediently flip back.
“Well, that was quick,” Maxie said crossly.
“I have a body.” I laughed, and it felt like a laugh. No, it wasn’t being alive; there was no joy or warmth in this body, and I knew it wasn’t my home. But at least I had substance again. If Lucas were here, I could hug him, even kiss him; we could talk like normal people. “This is incredible.”
“You won’t be able to have a body all the time. Even Christopher can’t do that.” Maxie seemed to enjoy diminishing my pleasure, although it was beyond her power to ruin it. “And it won’t really fix anything. But at least you can get some stuff done this way.”
I sighed. “This is definitely the best thing to happen to me since I died.”
Then I wondered who this Christopher person was, but I didn’t have time to ask her about him. A car’s tires crunched on the gravel driveway, and excitement made me leap toward the door—which I now had to open instead of floating through. I believed it would be Balthazar and Lucas returning home. Surely Balthazar had thought better of taking Lucas on a hunt tonight. Instead, I saw a sunshine yellow convertible pulling up; inside rode Vic and Ranulf.
“What are they doing back?” I muttered. Maxie peeked over my shoulder. “Oh, wait—Lucas said he wrote Vic and told him I was sick. He must have convinced his parents to let him leave Tuscany so he could come back to look in on me.”
“Then he’s running a bit late,” Maxie pointed out.
Ignoring her, I turned and ran toward the driveway. She shouted, “What are you doing?”
“Saying hello to my friends!”
“You can’t just go out there—Bianca, you’re dead!”
I wondered if that meant some invisible force field or something would stop me, but it didn’t. When I bounded out into the yard, Vic’s face lit up in a grin, and Ranulf gave me a quick wave.
“Hey there, Binks,” Vic called. “Looks like you’re on the mend!”
“Vic!” I hugged him tightly, and I’d never been so glad simply to be able to hug another person. He smelled like cologne, which I usually found stinky, but it was the first thing I’d really smelled since I died. Who knew men’s cologne could smell so fantastic? “Oh, I missed you.”
“Likewise,” he said. “Sorry I woke you up. Or are you still recuperating?”
Vic was talking about the pajamas I still wore. Apparently the coral bracelet couldn’t do anything about them. “It’s kind of a long story. Also a weird story.”
“Come on.” Vic straightened his trucker cap on his head, like he was getting ready for serious business. “How much weirder could our story get?”
“You’d be surprised,” I said weakly.
Ranulf straightened, and his gaze shifted from friendliness to wariness. “Vic,” he said, “something is very different about Bianca.”
“Huh?” Vic looked between me and Ranulf, not getting it.
“She feels a little clammy, but that’s about it.”
“Her very nature is changed.” Ranulf’s eyes narrowed. For the first time, he did not look like an innocent; I caught a glimpse of the fiercer man he must have been long ago. “I do not think she is still a vampire.”
“What?” Vic grinned. “All human now? Bianca, that’s awesome.”
“That’s not quite how it went,” I said. “Can you guys come inside? We really need to talk, and you have to find Lucas.”
Vic started to follow me inside; Ranulf, still suspicious, came along, too, but hung back several steps. “What’s wrong with Lucas?” Vic asked. “Where did he go?”
“He left with Balthazar.”
“Balthazar? Your ex?” Vic’s eyebrows rose so high they vanished beneath the brim of his hat. “Okay, this is getting good.”
“Let’s just get inside, okay?” As I gestured toward the door, the bracelet slipped from my fingers. The moment that happened, I disappeared—or almost disappeared, since a blue, smoky image remained where my arm had just been.
Vic jumped back so fast he nearly fell over. “What the what?”
“She is no longer a vampire,” Ranulf said, steadying himself like he expected a fight. “She is a wraith.”
“A wraith? You mean, a ghost? Bianca’s a ghost? That’s impossible.”
Concentrating hard, I managed to close my hand around the bracelet again and will my form back into being. Vic and Ranulf stared at me, slack jawed, the whole time. Neither of them spoke a word.
Once I had my shape back, I said, “It’s possible. I’m a wraith now. And, no, Ranulf, I’m not going to hurt you. The old war between ghosts and vampires—as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t have anything to do with me and the people I love.”
Ranulf didn’t look touched, but he didn’t turn away, either.
I asked, “Now are you going to let me explain?”
Vic swallowed hard and nodded. “I think you’d better.”
Half an hour later, as the sky outside darkened, Vic, Ranulf, and I sat around the little table while they took in what I’d just told them. Ranulf, who naturally understood more about the strange rules that governed the undead, seemed to be taking it in. Vic, on the other hand, looked completely flummoxed.
“Okay,” Vic said, “let me see if I have this straight. You died.”
“Yes.” That was never going to get easier to admit, I thought.
“Balthazar showed up, and he and Lucas buried you in the backyard.”
“Right.”
“So there’s a dead body in my backyard, which I have to explain to my parents somehow.”
“I don’t think they’ll find it—it’s behind the grounds, kind of—and, anyway, isn’t that kind of beside the point?”
