“You and me aren’t the same.”

Balthazar cocked his head. “Then let’s say the same as Bianca. Will that make you listen?”

“Bianca’s no killer! She didn’t have a choice about what she is.”

“Guys, don’t do this,” I pleaded, but they paid no attention.

“A choice? You think we all get a choice?” Although Balthazar spoke softly, there was a roughness to his voice I’d never heard before.

It sent chills down my spine. “Try being hunted down in the night. Try running as far and as fast as you can and finding out they’re faster. Try coming to in a stable, with your parents’ dead bodies on the ground in front of you, your hands roped above your head and a dozen hungry vampires arguing with each other about who gets you next. See how much choice you have then.”

Lucas just stared at him. Obviously he’d never imagined anything like that; neither had I.

Even more quietly, Balthazar continued, “Try watching your baby sister die, and then tell me that you wouldn’t spend the rest of eternity trying to make up for it. When you’ve done all that, Lucas, then you can talk to me about choices. Until that time, tell me what I need to know and then shut your mouth.”

“Back off,” Lucas said, but he was calmer now. “I get it, all right?

We’ve all got to do what we’ve got to do, and it’s fine by me.” He pulled a small notebook from his coat pocket and handed it over. “That’s got some information about her—Charity, I mean—it’s just notes about the hunts we’ve been on lately. Those ‘friends’ she’s got with her, any ideas who they might be?”

“None.” Already Balthazar was flipping through the notebook, scour-ing the pages for clues.

“Most of the details are probably useless, but maybe there’s something. And next time I’ll put together some stuff just about her, try to lay it out so you might figure out a pattern.” After a few seconds’ pause, he added, “Hope it helps.”

“Thank you.” Balthazar sounded sincere.

In the uncertain silence that followed, I tried to think of what to say after what I had just learned about Balthazar’s past, but no words were adequate. So I hugged him quickly. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Just going to the movies, it looks like.” He hugged me back, just long enough that I became acutely aware of Lucas watching us. “See you in two hours.”

As Lucas and I drove away in his mom’s truck, he said, “You all right?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m worried about Balthazar, though. I never knew that was what happened to him. I can’t even imagine how terrible that would be.”

“I’ve had vampires after me since I was born. I don’t have to imagine.”

“I know that a few of us are killers,” I said quietly. “I’ve known that for a while now. But not all of us are.”

“Right, I get that. What neither of us knows is the truth behind the party lines our parents taught us—where to strike the balance.” I sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this any longer. Okay?”

“You got it.”

“Hey, where are we going?” The truck’s headlights illuminated the road ahead of us, but it wasn’t any place in Riverton I recognized. We were headed sharply uphill.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous.” Lucas grinned. “You’ll be back by curfew.

Our ultimate destination is a surprise.”

Despite the tense mood that had descended earlier, I had to smile a little. “Hint?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

And I did.

The observatory was an older one, a small pale silo with a copper-green roof that slit open to reveal a telescope’s lens. As I began to smile, Lucas said, “They used to have a small college here in town. Been closed for a few decades now. But they’ve kept the observatory open so the high school kids could come out here once in a while.”

“Is it open tonight?” I said eagerly.

“For tonight, it’s our private observatory. We’ll have to open it ourselves.”

This turned out to mean Lucas picking the lock—which he made look easy. Once we stepped inside, we were in a circular room, not terribly wide but about thirty feet high. A spiral metal staircase led up to the telescope. The open dome meant that it was as cold inside as out, but I didn’t care. Lucas held my hand as we climbed the stairs, and our footsteps on the metal echoed slightly.

The telescope hadn’t looked that large from below, but once we got there, the many wheels and handles made Lucas whistle. “You know how to steer this thing?”

“I think I can figure it out.” I’d never worked with a telescope quite this grand, at least not on my own, but I’d been to an observatory at science camp in middle school and read enough books to get the gist.

Orienting myself—north, south, east, west—I focused the lens on the nearest constellation. A nebula I’d usually seen as a slightly less defined star was now vivid and detailed, almost like in my books. This was better, though; this was real. “Oh, wow.”

“Can I see?”

“The Orion nebula. Look.” I stepped aside so that Lucas could peer into the lens, and I put my arms around him, touched and thrilled by the thoughtfulness of his gift. For one moment I remembered Balthazar, whom I’d shown this constellation last year, but from a view so much farther away. I hoped he was okay, alone at the movies.