“Sorry about that,” the vampire muttered to Jeramiah before making his way back to the room, dragging the squirming bundle behind him.
What on earth was that about?
I’d expected them to kill the creature. It might not be something a vampire couldn’t handle, but it would certainly be a threat to half-bloods who weren’t as strong as us. Instead they seemed to be… keeping it.
Since Jeramiah offered no explanation, I didn’t ask. We exited the gardens and arrived back on the veranda that lined the ground level of the atrium.
He turned to me. “I’ll have a talk with Michael and Amaya, as I said, and get back to you about other responsibilities you can take on.”
I nodded. Parting ways with him, I headed straight back to my apartment.
Even aside from the fact this place was managed by Lucas Novak’s son, something about this place was off… though I couldn’t yet put my finger on exactly what it was.
All I know is, the sooner I get out of here, the better.
The trouble was, unless I managed to coerce a witch into helping me, it no longer looked like I was going to get the quick escape I’d been hoping for…
Chapter 1: River
I stared at my father through the glass separator. His black, gray-streaked hair hung limply at the sides of his face and his brown eyes looked dim and jaded. His face was speckled with more scabs than I wanted to count. His orange uniform contrasted starkly with his pale complexion and he looked thinner than I’d ever seen him. If I hadn’t known him to be forty-four, I would’ve assumed him to be in his early sixties.
Folds of loose skin gathered on either side of his mouth as he smiled at me, revealing stained teeth. His hand unsteady, he reached for the phone on his side of the window and placed it against his ear.
I picked up the phone on my side.
“River,” he breathed into the receiver, his voice raspy. “Sweetheart, how are you?”
I swallowed back the lump in my throat.
“Okay.”
His eyes roamed either side of me. Then his expression sagged in disappointment.
“Dafne and Lalia… They didn’t come?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”
He sighed heavily, then forced another smile.
“Are you off school now?”
“Yes,” I replied. “We just got off two days ago.”
“I’ve been reading whatever papers I can get a hold of, but one hasn’t come my way the last week. Have there been any more kidnappings?”
“Not that I know of,” I said. “The schools on the West Coast were still closed right up until the holidays started. But nobody seems sure whether the threat has passed or not.”
“Well, let’s hope it has passed.” He paused, wetting his lower lip. “How is your French going?”
“Spanish, Dad.”
“Spanish,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. How’s it going?”
“Okay. I’m still a bit behind compared to the rest of the class. My teacher has given me some extra work to do over the summer.”
“Good,” he replied. “Good. And how are they… my three other cherubs?”
“Okay, too,” I said. “Jamil is the same as ever.”