“There’s something else you have to know before we go.” I felt weird about discussing this with Balthazar, but I knew he’d probably find out sooner or later. He needed to be on his guard.

“Charity is in New York.”

“What?” Balthazar pushed himself upright in bed. “Is she trying to find me? Does she need my help?”

“She needs help,” Lucas deadpanned, “but not yours.”

I shot Lucas a glare. “Charity’s fine. She was worried about you, that’s all.” I wondered whether to tell him about her attack, but I decided against it. Balthazar was injured and in no shape to deal with that kind of news.

“One more thing,” Lucas interjected. At first I thought that he was going to talk about Charity’s attack, but he was thinking more constructively. “Black Cross suspects we might’ve let you go. They’ll be looking for you, too. So I wouldn’t hang out in Manhattan any longer than you’ve got to.”

“I understand.”

I crawled forward and put my arms around Balthazar’s neck. Because of the wound on his chest, I couldn’t really hug him, not like I wanted to, but this would do. He rested his head against my shoulder. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Thank you,” he said. “Both of you.” Now that I had stood in the center of a ring of Black Cross hunters and feared for my life, the same way Balthazar had, I could understand the depth of gratitude he felt.

Right when the embrace threatened to last too long, I let go and backed off the bed without another word. That was the end of our farewells, except for my smiling over my shoulder at Balthazar as we went out the door. He held up his hand in a wave, visible in the narrowing crack of the door as Lucas pulled it shut.

Lucas paused, the two of us standing together on the cramped stairwell, and said, his voice low, “If you want to stay here, tell me now.”

I kissed him, and it was all the answer he needed.

Chapter Thirteen

BALTHAZAR’S FRIENDS DIRECTED US TO A CHINATOWN bus, a cheap mode of transportation that usually shuffled new immigrants from Asia between different Chinese-restaurant jobs up and down the East Coast. However, it was a mixed lot on the next bus to Philadelphia—a few older people and a lot of college students typing on laptops they balanced on their knees.

The bus was late, and it ran slow. Heavy rains up north, the driver said. Flooding on the highways. We didn’t care. Our money was rolled up in the front pocket of my jeans; though it dug into my flesh, I found the pressure of it reassuring.

I rested my head upon Lucas’s shoulder as we leaned back in the seats. Maybe the bus was really comfortable, or maybe we were so tired that anything would’ve felt good. Both of us drifted in and out of sleep. Sometimes I felt as though dreams and wakefulness were bleeding together like watercolors, soft-edged and pale. All that was real was the reassuring scent of Lucas’s skin and the knowledge that, for now at least, we were safe.

At one point, while the bus rumbled down the road, Lucas reached up to stroke my hair. I realized that he thought I was asleep—really, I nearly was—and somehow that made it even sweeter.

Mostly, though, we finally got some rest.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” I pulled Lucas into the great hall of Evernight, which was decorated for the Autumn Ball. Candlelight softened the room into shadows, and the dancers moved easily through the steps of the waltz the orchestra was playing.

Lucas shook his head and tugged at the tie of his evening suit. “This is so not my scene. But seeing you like this—it’s worth it.”

I wore a strapless white dress that flowed from the empire waist to the floor, and I could see enough of my fading reflection in a nearby mirror that I knew I wore white flowers in my hair. Never had I felt so beautiful.

But that wasn’t because I’d dressed up. It was because I was finally here with Lucas.

“Do you know how to waltz?” I whispered to him.

“Not a clue. But if you want to dance, let’s get out there and fake it.”

Laughing, I let Lucas take me in his arms, and we spun upon the dance floor. No, he couldn’t waltz, but it didn’t matter that we didn’t fit with the other dancers. I watched them all around us—Patrice with her hand in Balthazar’s, Courtney snickering at Ranulf’s clumsy footwork, Dana neatly leading Raquel through a turn—and wondered why none of them danced the way they wanted to.

Then another figure appeared amid the dancers, a translucent figure that shimmered in aquamarine. The wraith came close to us and said, “May I cut in?”

“Of course,” I said, wondering how she knew Lucas and why she wanted to dance with him. But it was my hand she took, and I gave him a regretful glance as the wraith and I got lost in the crowd of dancers. I could see him watching me, but then the crowd swallowed him up.

I awoke with a start. Quickly I glanced around to remind myself where I was and rested my head on Lucas’s shoulder again. He mumbled something in his sleep before drowsily turning toward me, and I smiled, reassured.

We got to Philadelphia in the late afternoon. That wasn’t so much where we were heading as it was a place for us to go, a city large enough for us to get lost in. Better yet, Philly had no permanent Black Cross cell. It was less likely that they’d be able to mount a large-scale hunt for us there.

“We’ll stay here a couple of days at least,” Lucas said. “We can find someplace cheap. Lie low. Figure out our options.”