Crimson Born - Amy Patrick Page 0,65

me would allow it, and I definitely didn’t want to start some kind of war between the sisters.

“I’d like that. Very much.”

Looking thrilled, Sadie reached out to grasp both my hands in hers.

“But there’s a complication,” I added quickly.

“I can feel that.” She stared down at the veins in my hands, which had risen to the surface at her touch. “Your blood has a familiar fragrance. Are you...”

Shifting her gaze to my eyes, she said rather than asked, “You’re Imogen’s child.”

“Yes.” I nodded gravely. “And she doesn’t want me to leave the Bastion. She wants me to be her heir.”

“I can see why. You have the makings of a powerful queen. Have you passed the test already?”

“The test? You mean turning a human with my bite? I’m not sure. I mean, there was a boy, but I don’t really know if I was his first bite. My test was supposed to be tonight—at the Bastion—there’s an Inception Ceremony. It’s happening very soon actually.”

“And yet you’re here.” She smiled. “With me.”

I nodded. “I didn’t want to take the test. I don’t want to bite anyone, and I don’t want that life. But your sister is my maker. I’m not sure if I can leave her.”

She smiled warmly. “You can do anything you want to do, child. Your maker can’t alter your free will. She can locate you whenever she wishes to, but that doesn’t bother me. The location of the VHC headquarters is not a secret. It’s on the news frequently. We have nothing to hide—unlike the Bastion. Imogen won’t like it, I’m sure... but she can’t stop you. If you want to join us, we’d love to have you.”

Relief crashed over me like a wave and then lifted me, making me feel nearly weightless. It took everything in me not to hug this woman I’d just met in gratitude.

Unlike Imogen, she did seem huggable.

“Oh thank you. Yes. Yes, I want to work for you. I want to work for peace.”

“Wonderful. Our entourage pulls out tomorrow night at first dark, heading back to California.”

“Oh. So soon?”

Her head quirked to the side. “Are there things you need to take care of before you go?”

I nodded. “Only one thing. One person, actually. A guy. I’m going to try to persuade him to come with me when we go back to the Bastion tonight. He’s Imogen’s child too.”

She blew out a short breath. “Well, this should be interesting. If you don’t make it back here before our buses leave, then come to Los Angeles as soon as you can and find our headquarters. If I don’t happen to be there at the moment, tell them I requested your presence specifically... Abigail.”

“You know my name?”

She smiled. “I know a lot of things. I’ll see you soon.” In a lower tone she added, “If he won’t come with you now, don’t give up hope. Remember, everything happens for a reason.”

My friends and I walked away together, each of us expressing just how wowed we were by meeting Sadie.

For me, it was more than that.

Listening to her speech and then speaking to her, I’d experienced a sensation akin to what I used to feel when doing puzzles in the evenings with my brothers and sisters.

There was something so satisfying when the pieces fit and locked into place.

This was like that—only so much stronger. I had found my place in the world—and it wasn’t in Virginia. For the first time in months, I was filled with anticipation.

That happy feeling dulled when I spotted the red taillights stretching out in every direction. All the roads leading away from the monument were at a standstill.

While many vampires had stayed for the all-night sit-in, many were, like us, heading home after Sadie’s speech. They probably needed to get to work or simply wanted to make sure they were safely inside when dawn arrived.

“Oh no.” I sighed.

Heather gave me a tight smile. “It’s okay. We still have three hours. Here’s the car.”

The numbers on the car’s digital dashboard readout seemed to move unnaturally fast as the traffic crept along the surface streets all the way to the highway.

Unfortunately, the slow speed gave us an up close and personal view of the counter-protestors who lined the roadways holding signs and chanting and shouting at our cars.

“Vamps Go Home,” one of the signs read.

Another featured a ridiculous winged cartoon vampire inside a red circle with a diagonal line across its center. It bore the caption, “No Monsters in Our Cities.”

Anxiously eying the clock, I