“No, hang on, I mean it. I should have done a better job, I know. It was my responsibility to look out for you, and I blew it. And I don’t know much about how things are for you now, but...I’d like to. I’m gonna be in the city next week, apartment hunting. Do you think we could get together for coffee?”
Guilt, guilt, guilt. I didn’t want Jack to be sorry. I wanted him to ignore me, to be the world’s shittiest sibling, because it helped balance out the fact that I’d gotten our parents killed. “I’ve kind of got a lot going on right now, Jack,” I hedged.
“Oh, okay,” he said amiably. “Well, listen, you’ve got my number. You should call me so we can get together. If I don’t hear from you in a couple weeks, I’ll try again.” He sounded so confident and relaxed, and I realized how much I’d missed him. And then, immediately after, that I might be dead really soon.
“Jackie...I love you, you know? And you didn’t do anything wrong, after Mom and Dad. I never, ever thought you did. Don’t carry that around, okay?”
“Okay, Scarb,” he said, surprise in his voice. “Thanks. I’ll, um...I’ll talk to you soon.”
We said good-bye, and I set my phone down on the little table—right next to the pictures of the Hess children, which Jesse had left behind when he’d stormed out.
And suddenly, I knew what to do. I looked at my watch: 8:45. Time to move. I hesitated for a second, considering whether I should run home for my Taser. I like carrying it when I go to big vampire events, but it would add at least forty minutes to my trip, and that was time I just didn’t have. Sighing, I headed for the van.
It was quite dark by the time I arrived at Dashiell’s house in Pasadena. I got myself buzzed in, parked the van, and performed my quick ding-dong-ditch modification before Beatrice opened the door. She was wearing a midnight-blue cocktail dress with some sort of elaborate weaving on the bodice, reminding me of medieval gowns, even as it clung to her curves. She was stunning, but seemed nervous and agitated when she ushered me in. More than anything, though, Beatrice looked worried.
“Scarlett—”
Without waiting for an invitation, I immediately headed in the direction of Dashiell’s office, with Beatrice a step behind me. She was tall, but she was also trotting along in four-inch heels without her usual vampire grace.
“I need to see him, Beatrice.”
“I am not sure this is the best time. He has had much trouble with the other vampires; they are so angry about Abraham and the others—” she rushed out, following me closely.
“That’s why I’m here, Bea. If I can find the person responsible, everything goes back to normal, right?”
She was silent for a beat too long, and I paused, skidding to a halt on the black-and-white-tiled hallway. I looked back at her. “Right?”
Beatrice shook her head. “I do not know, Scarlett. Yesterday, probably yes, but the situation is quickly growing worse. The powerful vampires in town are saying that Dashiell does not have the strength to hold the city, considering he can’t even protect his right hand. Our people say that they have been arguing among themselves about who should challenge Dashiell.” Her pale face looked even whiter in the bright hall light. “Scarlett, I know you do not always agree with Dashiell, but there are much, much worse vampires in California. Ariadne is among them.”
“She’s leading the revolution?”
“Yes.”
“And what happens to you if Dash is...overthrown?”
Her jaw tensed as she spoke. “If Ariadne takes control”—she shook her head—“my death will be bad.”
I don’t know which one of us was more surprised when I threw my arms around Beatrice, hugging her fiercely. “Don’t worry,” I said quietly.
She leaned back from me, looking shocked, and I stepped back, afraid I had hurt her. But then her hand reached slowly up to her eye, and when it came away, it shone with wetness. She stared in amazement. “I had forgotten.”
“Beatrice, listen. I have to help someone tonight, but when I’m done, I’ll come back here, and I’ll stay with Dashiell, okay? With both of you. I won’t let anyone get close enough to challenge. I know that’s not a long-term solution, but...” I trailed off. She had the oddest expression on her face. “What?”
“You know that he is ready to kill you for all of this, whether or not you were involved?”
“Yeah. I know.”
Her eyes searched mine for a long moment, and then she smiled faintly. “He underestimates you.”
Before I could deal with that, steps echoed down the hall in front of us, and I felt Dashiell even before I could see him. He wore the same smooth black suit as always, but with no tie and the top button undone. For the first time, I caught a glimpse of something shiny at his hip, behind the suit jacket. A gun. Dashiell was carrying a gun.
Oh, God. We were all gonna die.
“You,” he said, taking that first gasping human breath. “What are you doing here? Have you come to confess? To throw yourself at my mercy?” He raised an amused eyebrow, but his all-too-human voice sounded dead serious. Emphasis on dead.
“Not just yet. But I would like to ask you some questions, if I could.” I nodded to his office door. “May I?”
He frowned at me, unmoving.
“Come on, Dashiell. You said I had a few more hours. I’m trying to use them wisely. And I have a lead.”