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Sylvie had the book in one hand and the other was running idly through her sister’s hair.

Maisey had seemed pretty enough when I first met the girls, but now she was essentially a ghoul. Her cheeks were sunken, her skin was nearly white, and her lips were pulled back to show pointed canines.

As much as the sight of a vampire pissed me off for my own reasons, I hated that Sylvie had to see her sister like this.

I'd learned a little about Sylvie over the past few days. She had a bladder the size of a teacup, for starters. I swore, the woman got up to pee at least every thirty minutes, and she apparently used half a toilet paper roll each time. She had me ransacking spare rooms for more toilet paper daily. She also read with superhuman speed. I wasn't even sure she was truly reading as her eyes flicked from side to side and she thumbed the pages.

She was also an endless fountain of questions. How do werewolves eat? Like normal people. Do they howl when it's a full moon? No comment. Are they more hairy than usual? Did she want to come check for herself?

But most of all I was struck by how much she seemed to care for her sister. I wasn't sure if even the closest of sisters would have looked past the frightening state Maisey was in. Sylvie didn't seem bothered in the slightest. To her, the shriveling form beside her on the bed was just her sister, and she hardly went two minutes without glancing over to check on Maisey or stroking her hair.

I had to admit it made me think of Kyla. My little sister and I had been close like that once. I remembered nearly killing a boy when we were kids because he'd "pranked" her by shoving a stick in the spokes of her bike. She'd fallen and chipped two teeth along with getting road burn on her knees and elbows. I'd spent the afternoon helping pick asphalt from her cuts, then I'd gone and paid her bullies a visit.

I'd protected her from everything.

Almost everything.

The thought left a sour taste in my stomach and an emptiness in my chest.

I cleared my throat and Sylvie looked up at the sound.

"We are going to move when Felix calls. There's a place where Maisey can get what she needs."

"Okay," Sylvie said without hesitation. Her hand was on Maisey's arm, and I saw her fingers tighten.

"We can't move her during the day. Not with what she’s becoming. That means we'll be open to attack by Lazarus and his people."

"So what's the plan, then? Tiptoe?"

"There are likely vampires outside The Wet Flea watching every exit right now. We're not leaving without him learning of it. But Lazarus' job is about more than just eliminating mutts. It's about setting an example. He won't want to execute you in the street. He'll want to bring you two in."

"What does he want with me?" Sylvie asked.

"He's going to assume you've been turned, but I doubt they care much either way. You two are a package deal, and they’re not going to let you walk.”

"Wait," Sylvie said. "What about Steve? Is he coming with us?"

"He recovered yesterday. Felix already sent him off to the rebel vampires at Blackridge."

Sylvie squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her temples. "Okay. You need to come with a glossary, or something. This is like reading an Alastair Reynolds sci-fi book. I feel like I only understand half the words coming out of your mouth." She took a deep breath. "What is Blackridge?"

"It's a mansion in the hills. The rebels turned the place into a sort of fortress and grooming school for young vampires. It's where The Prince lives."

"What makes him a prince, exactly?"

"His mother was Ana Black, one of the oldest vampires still living. They claim he's exceedingly powerful. But either way, he has Ana and his father, Vladimir, backing him, which means the Coven can't simply crash down and wipe them all out. Apparently, enough powerful vampires defected to the cause that it's a legitimate threat to The Coven."

"Wow," Sylvie said. "It's just like Moonlight Caravan. Well, sort of. In the book, werewolves make an alliance with the fallen king of the fae. There's this big battle between all three factions and it-"

"Sylvie," I said. "This is real life. Real danger. It's not one of your stories."

She blushed. "I understand, I was just-" She shook her head and looked down. "What do you need me to do?"

"Keep an eye on your sister and stay close to me. No matter what happens."

"It's not like I'm going to run away from the big scary werewolf who is protecting me and wave my hands around. 'Hey, vampires! I did a stupid thing and split up. come get me!'" She made a small noise in her throat, then smiled a little. "Sorry, I just didn't exactly need to be told that one. Obvious," she added.


Tags: Penelope Bloom Paranormal