“They were sticking around the school last I saw,” Vic said. So much for calling them—my parents tried hard to adapt to modern life, but they hadn’t quite gotten as far as having cell phones.

“What about Balthazar?”

Lucas frowned. He had some problems with Balthazar, first because Balthazar was a vampire, and second because he and I had some history. It was over between us—it hardly even got started, honestly—but that didn’t mean I wasn’t still worried about him.

“Balty’s A-OK,” Vic replied. “He was totally upset after the fire, though. I think it must’ve been because you were missing. The guy was crushed.”

“It wasn’t because of me,” I said quietly. My mood darkened as the weight of everything I’d lost settled over me, and I slumped against the pay phone, suddenly tired.

“Okay, okay. Backing off.”

What Vic didn’t and couldn’t know was that Balthazar’s misery was due to his sister, Charity, who had arranged the Black Cross attack. Charity was the most important person in the world to Balthazar, and, weirdly, I thought he was just as important to her. That wouldn’t stop her from trying to hurt him, or anyone who got close to him, including me.

Vic, who was becoming more alert by the minute, said, “What about Raquel? She was the only other one we couldn’t find. Is she with you, maybe?”

“She is, actually. She’s fine. Doing great.”

“Excellent! That means we all got out okay. Total miracle.”

“Where did Ranulf end up?” I asked.

“He’s crashed out in our guest room right now. You want me to grab him?”

“That’s okay. I’m just glad he’s all right.” Lucas and I shared surprised smiles. If Vic knew he’d invited a vampire to come stay in his house, he probably wouldn’t be sleeping so late—if at all. Fortunately Ranulf was too mild to cause anyone harm. “Listen, we have to go. I’ll be in touch, though.”

“Oh, man, I cannot deal with people being cryptic first thing in the morning.” Vic sighed, then said, very quietly, “Call your parents. Just—you need to, all right?”

A lump rose in my throat. “Good-bye, Vic.”

After I hung up, Lucas took my hand. “Like I said, there are ways for you to get in touch if you want to.”

I’d been so frightened for Mom and Dad that I hadn’t stopped to consider how frightened they must’ve been for me.

I must have looked stricken, because Lucas gave me a quick hug. “We’ll get through to them soon. You can write them or something. See, it’s going to be okay.”

“I know. It’s just hard.”

“Yeah.” We kissed—a simple kiss, but the first one we’d shared in any privacy in far too long. In that moment, our exhaustion and worry didn’t hold us back; we were together again, alone again, remembering everything we’d given up to be together—and reveling in it. His arms wrapped tightly around me as he leaned me backward. The whole world felt off balance except him. If I held on to him, I’d never go wrong.

Lucas is mine, I thought. Mine. Nobody can take this away from me.

By the time we reached New York, it was nighttime. When we first saw the Manhattan skyline in the distance, we all whooped and cheered. It looked pretty spectacular. To me, New York was almost more like a mythological place than a real one—it was where all the movies and TV shows happened, and the street names we were supposed to look for as we drove had a magical ring to them: 42nd Street. Broadway.

Then it occurred to me that Manhattan is an island, and I shivered at the thought of having to cross a river again. But instead we drove in through a tunnel, which was fine. For some reason, going beneath the water made a difference. I wished I’d asked my parents why.

We came out of the tunnel practically right in Times Square, which glittered and shone so much that I was dazzled. The others laughed at me, but I could tell they were kind of caught up in the excitement, too.

But it turned out that after a few dozen blocks, Broadway wasn’t so ritzy any longer. The bright lights dimmed, and we drove past apartment building after apartment building, stacks of them looming up around us like walls. The stores changed from posh cosmetics boutiques or family restaurants to 99-cent stores and fast-food joints.

Finally, the caravan turned into a parking garage, one that posted its incredibly expensive prices outside. The attendant waved us through, so we didn’t have to pay. The garage was definitely dirty and out of the way, so its rates were far too high—and sure enough, no other cars seemed to be parked inside.

I glanced at Lucas, who said, “Welcome to New York’s HQ.”

Everyone climbed out of the vans and trucks sort of sluggishly; we hadn’t stopped to stretch our legs on the trip, just a couple of very brief gasoline-and-bathroom breaks after lunch. We were herded into an enormous industrial elevator, which sank downward. The elevator’s walls were dull, scratched steel, and the light overhead flickered fitfully.

Feeling nervous, I took Lucas’s hand. He squeezed my fingers between his. “This part is going to be okay,” he said. “I promise.”

It’s not forever, I reminded myself. This is just until Lucas and I have a chance to make some plans. Soon we’ll be off on our own, and everything will be all right again.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a cavern, and I gasped. The high, curved ceiling was illuminated by strings of those plastic-encased lights construction guys use at worksites. Voices echoed throughout the arched space. I blinked as I made out the silhouettes of people farther away from us. They all seemed to be in a sort of trench that ran throughout the cave—