To Kill a Vampire - A.K. Koonce Page 0,13

endless selection of books. Her black cloak still conceals her face just as mine does, and it wafts eerily through the room as she studies each sturdy column of books.

“There’s still time for you to leave.” Michael shifts on his feet the farther away his daughter walks.

“No.” The word echoes through the room, loud enough to knock the dust off of a few unlit chandeliers. Fallon turns to us, an image of darkness among the shadows. “We came here for a reason, father.”

Michael shifts his weight once more, his shiny black shoes appearing less and less luxurious the more he fidgets under her scrutiny.

“Why did I live my entire life in a work camp while you lived here, reading all the books the world has to offer?” Her head tips back to seemingly admire the high glass windows that run along ceiling, letting in the caressing moonlight. “You abandoned her. You abandoned us. For a better life.”

Something jagged in her voice makes me nervous. It’s detached and unrecognizable, and yet I relate to that pained tone more than I’ll ever admit.

“We –” Michael’s voice cracks. He smooths the dark buttons of his crisp white shirt. “We were young. When we found out … we thought she’d be able to keep the pregnancy a secret long enough to complete the unity with Ky Morris. I –”

The sound of angry steps storming across clean tile fill the air, and Fallon is inches from his face in a matter of seconds.

“Ky was her unity partner?” The cloak rises and falls rapidly as she heaves breaths that fan across Michael’s sweating face.

I want to tug her arm, pull her back before he sees the mystic beneath the shadows of the cloak. But I don’t. I don’t move a muscle. My chest wants to crack open from the pain pushing to escape. Mostly I just want to hold her. To sooth the harshness of the world for just a little while with her in my arms.

But I still don’t move.

Michael nods, swallowing hard as he looks away from his only daughter. The daughter he wasn’t approved to have. The daughter whose life he ruined before she was even born.

Charlotte could have been happy with Ky. More than happy. They could have had the congress-approved, white picket fence, all around beautiful life …

And here I thought it didn’t exist.

Heavy breaths still consume her, but the rage has died a little. I can feel it calm, her emotions almost crack through the air, changing colors and sounding like a building storm. Her face is downturned, appearing to study the lines of the glistening white tiles along the floor at her feet.

Apprehension clings to my movements. I touch her arm, the cloak smooth and soft against my hesitant fingertips. I barely have time to feel the material against my palm when she’s already jerking out of my reach, striding to the other side of the room. Beyond the dozens of tables and thousands of books, she disappears past the stream of crisp moonlight and into the shadows.

For less than a second I consider going after her, to let her take out all of her confusing emotions on me. Just to make her feel a little better. It won’t, though. Nothing but time can make life’s mistakes bearable.

I stand with her father, letting the awkwardness fill the air. Allowing him time to fully appreciate just how much he screwed up her life.

A bookshelf behind me supports my weight as I lean my head back, crossing one ankle over the other. The protective Crimson Sword is forgotten as I slip my hands into my pockets and start to relax a little as we wait.

“You know, I hear she married a pike,” I add in a casual tone, just to throw one more scary thought into his already muddled mind.

He looks at me, possibly for the very first time tonight. His mouth falls open, and his face is lined with outrage and … shame.

Good.

The hint of a smile tugs at my lips as the tension leaves my chest.

The silence seems to drag on forever.

The twinkling lights ignite the city below us, a look of heaven gracing the earth. Thousands of them glitter through the night. It’s the most light I’ve ever seen in one place. It seems wasteful.

An hour has passed, and Ayden has yet to lead the president to the library as he said he would. Trepidation is pressing in on me. What if it’s a trap? What if they