Crimson Born - Amy Patrick Page 0,70

suddenly swollen shut.

“Have a nice life.” My tone expressed my doubt that it was even possible under the circumstances he’d chosen. I couldn’t help adding, “And take care of yourself.”

I started up the ramp, but he pulled something from his shirt and held it out to me.

“And I wanted to give you this.”

Dangling from his hand was a necklace. With his other hand, he grasped the locket I always wore and yanked, breaking the delicate chain and removing it.

I gasped. “Why did you—”

“There is no reason for you to wear this any longer. You are innocent. You need to let the past go and move forward with your life, wherever it takes you.”

In shock, I stood motionless while he draped the new necklace over my head and settled it around my neck.

It was a long silver chain—not platinum—with a pendant at the end. It looked like a small silver dagger. The hilt of the miniature dagger was a red orb that resembled the blood moon. Was it a jewel?

But no, there was motion inside. When I lifted it and held it up to the light, I saw the orb was actually hollow and filled with... liquid.

“Is this blood?” I asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Reece. Whose blood is this?”

I couldn’t pull the necklace chain over my head fast enough. I handed it back to him.

“It’s Imogen’s, isn’t it? Is this how she plans to track me? No thank you. You can keep your mistress’s little gift.”

Taking my hand, he pressed the necklace back inside it, folding my fingers over it and enclosing my hand between both of his. I noticed his own fingers were trembling.

My eyes flew up to meet his.

“It isn’t from Imogen,” he said quietly. “It isn’t her blood. It’s mine. Be safe, Abbi. And be happy.”

And then he turned and walked away without another word.

Epilogue

Five months later

Kelly, Heather, and I left the house at first dark, hurrying so we could beat the notorious L.A. traffic.

The commute to the VHC headquarters from our rented house could be brutal, but it was a pretty, safe neighborhood, and a lot of vampires lived here.

Some humans, too, but it was particularly popular with vampires because most of the homes had basements and attached garages and because of its proximity to the district’s blood bank.

“Are you still working on writing that grant application?” Heather asked me as she unlocked the car doors, and we opened them to let the hot air out.

I nodded. “Yep. Should finish up tonight. I really hope this lab gets the money. They’re the closest ones yet to developing a blood substitute.”

Working for Sadie was everything I’d hoped it would be. Not only had she given the three of us jobs, she’d given us a fresh start. A whole new life.

I was beginning to believe what both Reece and Sadie had said was true—that there was a reason for everything. Maybe the abrupt ending of my human life and the beginning of my vampire existence could somehow be used for good.

I reached up and touched the pendant I wore every day. It was a little hard to believe Reece’s refusal to leave the Bastion could ever be a good thing, but as I’d already seen, life was unpredictable. It could change in a matter of hours—minutes even.

“Wow, look at Mr. Hopper’s flowerbeds,” Kelly said, staring at our next-door neighbor’s house as she stood beside the open passenger side door. “And his window boxes. They’re almost dead. I wonder if he’s on vacation?”

“Maybe,” I said.

I slid into the back seat and fastened my seatbelt, a habit I practiced because it was the law—not because vampires ever died in traffic accidents.

“We can water them when we get home after work.”

“Work, work, work. I feel like everyone but us is on vacation,” Heather said.

She started the car and began backing it down the driveway. “Not that LA isn’t awesome, but the Furlongs have been gone at least three weeks now. I’ve been feeding their dog, and his food is almost gone. And their mail would be overflowing their mailbox if I wasn’t picking it up for them. I thought they were only going away for a week.”

Abruptly, Heather stomped the break, causing both Kelly and me to jolt in our seats. The seatbelt tightened uncomfortably across my chest and lap.

“What is it?”

“There’s a police car behind us.” She sounded nervous.

I twisted to look through the rear window. An LAPD squad car was parked horizontally across the driveway, blocking it.

“What’s this about, I wonder?” Kelly