The boy's light hair was longish, falling over his forehead in disarray. He had a nice face, serious, but
with an unexpected dimple in his chin that gave him a slightly mischievous look. His body was nicely
muscled but compact; standing, Jez knew, he'd be no taller than she. There was a large bump coming up
on his forehead, just under the falling hair. The ghoul had probably slammed him against something.
Jez jumped up and got a blue plastic cup full of water from her nightstand. She grabbed a clean T-shirt
from the floor and dipped it into the water, then she gently brushed back the hair from the boy's
forehead.
It was silky under her fingers. Even softer than she would have thought. Jez kept her face expressionless
and began to wipe his face with the damp cloth.
He didn't stir. Jez's heart, which was already thumping distinctly, speeded up. She took a deep breath
and kept wiping.
Finally, although it probably didn't have anything to do with the water, the boy's dark eyelashes moved.
He coughed, breathed, blinked, and looked at her.
Relief spread through Jez. "Don't try to sit up yet."
"That's what they all say," he agreed, and sat up. He put a hand to his head and groaned. Jez steadied
him.
"I'm fine," he said. "Just tell the room to stop moving." He looked around the room, bunked again and
suddenly seemed to focus. He grabbed her arm, his eyes wide. "Something followed me-"
"A ghoul. It's dead."
He let out his breath. Then he smiled wryly. "You saved my life."
"And I don't even charge," Jez said, embarrassed.
"No, I mean it." His smile faded and he looked straight at her. "Thank you."
Jez could feel heat trying to rise to her face, and she had a hard time holding his gaze. His eyes were
gray and so intense-fathomless. Her skin was tingling.
She looked away and said evenly, "We should get you to a hospital. You might have a concussion."
"No. I'm okay. Let me just see if I can stand up."
When she opened her mouth to protest, he added, "Jez, you don't know why I'm here. It can't wait."
He was right; Jez had been so intent on getting him conscious that she hadn't even wondered what he
was doing here. She looked at him for a moment, then nodded. She helped him up, and let go of his arm
when she saw he could stand without falling over.
"See, I'm fine." He took a few steps, then made a circuit of the room, loosening his muscles. Jez watched
him narrowly, ready to grab him if he fell. But he walked steadily except for a slight limp.
And that wasn't from his encounter with the ghoul tonight, Jez knew. He'd had the limp from childhood,
from when the werewolves took his family.
How he'd been able to get over that and join Circle Daybreak, Jez would never know.
He'd lost his parents almost as young as she had. He'd lost his two sisters and his brother, too. His entire
family had been on a camping trip atLake Tahoe , when in the middle of the night they'd been attacked
by a pack of werewolves. Renegade 'wolves, hunting illegally because Night World law wouldn't let them
kill as often as they liked.
Just like Jez's old gang.
The 'wolves had ripped through theDavis family's tents and killed the humans, one, two, three. Easy as
that. The only one they left alive was seven-year-old Hugh, because he was too little to have much meat
on his body. They had just settled down to eat the hearts and livers of their victims, when
suddenly the one too little to be worth eating was dashing at them with a homemade torch constructed of
kerosene-soaked underwear wrapped around a stick. He was also waving a silver cross on a chain the
werewolves had torn from his sister's neck.
Two things werewolves don't like: silver and fire. The little boy was attacking with both. The 'wolves
decided to kill him.
Slowly.
They almost did it. They managed to chew one of his legs almost off before a park ranger arrived,
attracted by the spreading fire from the dropped torch.
The ranger had a gun, and the fire was getting out of control. The 'wolves left.
Hugh almost died of blood loss on the way to the hospital.
But he was a tough kid. And a very smart one. He didn't even try to explain to anybody what he'd been
doing with the silver necklace. He knew they would never believe him if he said he'd suddenly
remembered a bunch of past lives, including one where he'd seen a werewolf killed.
Hugh Davis was an Old Soul.
And a wakened Old Soul, which was even more rare. It scared Jez a little. He was human and she was
from the Night World, but she didn't pretend to understand the magic that brought some humans back
again and again, reincarnating them in new bodies. Letting them remember all their past lifetimes, making
them smarter and more clearheaded every time they were born.
In Hugh's case, also gentler every time. In spite of the attack on his family, when he got out of the
hospital the first thing he did was try to find some Night People. He knew they weren't all bad. He knew
some of them would help him stop the werewolves from hurting anyone else.
Fortunately, the first people he found were from Circle Daybreak.
Circles were witch organizations, but Circle Daybreak was for humans and vampires and shapeshifters
and werewolves, too. It was an underground society, as secret within the Night World as the Night
World was secret within the human world. It went against the most basic tenets of Night World law: that
humans were not to be told about the Night World, and that Night People shouldn't fall in love with
humans. Circle Daybreak was fighting to unite everybody, to stop the killings, and to bring peace
between the races.
Jez wished them luck.
She suddenly realized that Hugh had stopped walking and was looking at her. She blinked and focused,
furious with herself for her slip in concentration. As a huntress-of vampires or anything else-you stayed
alert all the time, or you were dead.
"You were miles away," Hugh said softly. His gray eyes were calm but intense as always. That look Old
Souls get when they're reading you, Jez thought.
She said, "Sorry. Um, do you want some ice for that bump?"
"No, I like it. I'm thinking of getting one on the other side, to match." He sat on the bed, serious again.
"Really, I've got some stuff to explain to you, and it's going to take a while."
Jez didn't sit. "Hugh, I think you need it. And I need to take a shower or my aunt will get suspicious
about what I'm doing in here for so long. Besides, the smell is driving me crazy." Although she couldn't
use her vampire powers without bringing on the bloodlust, her senses were still much more acute than a
human's.
"Eau de Ghoul? And I was just starting to enjoy it." Hugh nodded at her, switching from gentle humor to
gentle gravity as always. "You need to do what will keep your cover here. I shouldn't be so impatient."
Jez took the fastest shower of her life, then dressed in clean clothes she'd brought to the bathroom. As
she returned carrying a glassful of ice from the kitchen and a washcloth, she saw that Claire's bedroom
door was ajar and Claire was watching her narrowly.
Jez raised the glass in a mock toast, and slipped into her own bedroom.
"Here." She made an ice pack and handed it to Hugh. He accepted it docilely. "Now, what is it that's so
urgent? And how come you're so popular with ghouls all of a sudden?"
Instead of answering, Hugh looked into a middle distance. He was bracing himself for something. Finally
he lowered the ice pack and looked straight at her.