Wait.

I lowered the mug and licked my lips clean as I took stock. The air in my room had suddenly become much chillier. Had one of the windows blown open? No, they were all still shut, and covered with frost. But had they been covered with frost a few minutes ago? Just before I’d gotten up for the blood, I’d looked at the outline of the gargoyle outside the window, but now he was invisible behind a curtain of filmy white.

When I exhaled, my breath made a puff in the air. I began to shake.

A bluish glow flickered behind the window, and then I heard a tapping on the glass. Like fingernails. Fear gripped me, but I couldn’t turn away.

I went to the window and started rubbing my bare hand across the frost. The cold made my skin sting, but the frost melted into cloudy swirls, through which I could see. A girl stared back at me, about my age, with short, pale dark hair and hollow eyes. She looked completely normal—except for the part where she was almost transparent. And floating outside my tower window.

The wraith had returned.

Chapter Sixteen

THE GHOST SWAM IN SHADES OF WATERY BLUE-GREEN, her hair and skin the palest aqua. Though I could see through her, she was as real as anyone I had ever met. Her eyes bored into mine, not with anger or hatred but with some emotion I couldn’t comprehend.

Her lips moved, and I saw small glitters of light upon her lips and cheeks—fragments of ice, I realized. But still there was no sound.

Trembling, I moved closer to the glass. Despite my fear, I wanted to finally understand what was going on. The ghost twitched, and I breathed out sharply. My warm breath made a foggy circle on the glass.

In that circle appeared thin, shaky letters: We want what’s fair.

“Fair?” That didn’t make sense to me, but what about this did? At least I might finally have a chance to find out what they’d been trying to say. I realized that I wasn’t afraid—well, at least, not as much afraid as curious. “What do you mean?”

She didn’t answer. Her dark eyes were almost mocking now. The foggy spot slowly vanished, taking her words away.

After a long moment, during which it felt like my heart would pound through my chest, I realized what she was waiting for. Shakily I leaned toward the glass again and breathed out once more.

In the foggy spot appeared the words: You don’t belong to them.

“What?” I had no idea what that could mean. Mostly I wanted to turn and run for my parents. Instead, I exhaled against the glass so the wraith could speak.

You’re not like them.

“No, I’m not.” It was the only thing I truly knew about myself, the only thing I’d ever known. The wraith was the first one who had ever admitted that truth. “Who am I like?”

Another breath. This time the wraith smiled, and it wasn’t reassuring.

You’re like me.

Then I heard a terrible gasp behind me and turned to see Mom in my doorway. Her face was whiter than the frost. “Bianca! Come here! Get away from that thing!”

“I—” The word choked off; my throat was too dry for speech. I swallowed hard. “I think it’s okay.”

“Adrian!” Mom was calling for Dad, running away. Her footsteps echoed down the hall.

The wraith shrank back. “Wait—don’t leave!” I pressed my hands to the glass even as it frosted over, erasing the final words she’d written.

Quickly I rubbed it to try to clear my view, so I could see if she was still out there. But all the warmth had been leached from my hands, so the ice didn’t melt as quickly. By the time I could see again, the wraith was gone.

Mom and Dad came pounding into the room, their night-clothes disheveled and eyes wide. My father growled, “Where is it?”

“It left. I think it’s okay.”

Mom looked at me like I had gone insane. “Okay? Okay? That thing came here to hurt you, Bianca.” Her eyes were wild. “You didn’t even know the wraiths were more than children’s stories a few months ago.

Now you’re an expert?”

My father squeezed my shoulders. “It’s gone,” he said. I’d never valued his steadiness more. “Celia, it’s all over.”

“It isn’t.” Mom’s voice was muffled, and I realized she was crying.

“You know it isn’t. They want to take Bianca away from us.” I held one shaky hand out to her. “Mom, that’s—It’s not—You aren’t making any sense. What does that mean?” Then I thought of the letters carved in frost: Ours.

“Sweetheart—” She held one hand out to me, but her eyes darted toward my father. I couldn’t see his face, so I didn’t know what passed between them in that moment. I only knew that my mother sighed and closed her hand around mine. “I’m sorry. The wraith frightened me.

That’s all.”

That wasn’t all, and every person in the room knew it. Maybe I should have pressed them then and there, but Mom looked so shattered.

“I’m okay,” I said. “Everyone’s okay. It wasn’t nearly as bad as before.”

“Maybe they’re going away,” Mom said. “Maybe they’re giving up.”

“Maybe.” Dad didn’t sound like he believed that, but like he wanted to. “Bianca, did the wraith say anything to you?” I opened my mouth to reply honestly, but found myself instead saying, “No. There wasn’t time. It was quick.”

“Please let this be over,” Mom whispered. If she hadn’t been a vampire, I would’ve been sure she was praying. I hugged her tightly, and then Dad put his arms around both of us. Our misunderstandings didn’t seem to matter as much as the embrace.