was being watched, we took the secret back way out: onto the tiny second floor patio and down the fire escape into the alley connecting to the street behind us. Out on the sidewalk, Jessica’s gaze skittered over every shift in the nighttime illumination. Between passing cars, blinking signs, and the green-yellow-red stoplights, her eyes didn’t stop moving from the moment we stepped outside Poppy’s townhouse.
Neither of us spoke.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d caught her mood. I spent the whole walk on high alert. Though I loved Central Park at night—especially since magic had taken over my life, giving me little to fear in the mortal realm—this midnight stroll was giving me a metallic taste for what it must have been like during the more lawless decades. Listening for footfalls behind you. Watching for shadows to step out of the woods.
The only comfort was Aunt Belinda’s familiar. Crow followed us the entire way, flying from tree to tree, or gliding silently over open fields. What Crow saw, Aunt Belinda saw, and that reassured me.
We reached Victorine’s street. With its pressure-washed sidewalks and facades, it was almost like a theme park version of New York in comparison to the more lived-in streets of the Upper West Side.
I took the steps to the front door only to realize that Jessica was still standing on the sidewalk, her arms crossed like she was cold. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” she said, rubbing her arms one more time before joining me. Maybe not quite as brave as she put on.
I banged on the door.
Lights blazed behind the cut-glass windows.
The door opened, and a familiar face peeked out—Claudette, Victorine’s housekeeper. “Miss Hawkins. Another late night visit, I see? And you’ve brought a visitor”—she yawned—“again. Miss Laguerre will be so pleased.” She shuffled backward and opened the door wide enough for us to pass through.
“Thank you, Claudette. I hope you’re doing well?” I said, feeling ridiculous trading pleasantries in the middle of the night, but figuring it was the least I could do after dragging the poor woman out of bed.
“Yes, opening the door at the witching hour is my hobby. Sometimes, I do it just for fun.”
“Claudette, you’re getting downright sassy. What would Miss Laguerre say?”
“Double my pay, probably.” Claudette closed and locked the door.
“Who’s that at this hour?” James said, his voice fading in as he came down the hall. “Middle of the freakin’ night—” He froze as he saw Jessica standing in the foyer. “Oh.” Then his expression went from vague annoyance to something like relish. “Well. Look who’s here.”
“I’ll get Miss Laguerre,” Claudette said, retreating upstairs.
“The prodigal Blessed,” James said. “Zelda said you needed—what was it?” he asked, theatrically. “Ah, yes. Help. The great Jessica needs help.”
Jessica had been hanging back, but she pushed past me to stalk further into the marble-floored foyer, where a mirror hung over a delicate side table. She touched her hair and straightened her clothes. “Go to hell, James.”
James laughed. “I’m sorry, did someone say you were in charge, here? Because I don’t recall getting that memo.”
I clomped over to the two of them. My Doc Martens always seemed clunkier at Victorine’s. “Lay off,” I said. “She does need help. She’s losing her powers.”
James turned to me, thunderstruck. “What?” He looked at Jessica, who was still looking in the mirror. “For real?” He took her arm.
She shook him off. “Touch me again and I’ll use whatever I have left to break every bone in your body.”
“You have to tell me.” He put his hands on his hips, shot me a look, then gestured toward Jessica. “Zelda, make her tell me.”
“I don’t know for sure. But she thinks it might have been Daniel.”
“Daniel!” The look on his face veered between hope and disbelief before crash-landing on glee—at Jessica’s obvious unhappiness. “So… your greedy bloodsucking got you in the end, did it?”
Jessica folded her arms and looked away.
“Was it worth it?” he said, hovering closer, clearly enjoying himself, not paying attention to the warning signs. “Did you enjoy your last ‘meal’?”
Jessica unfolded with a raging shriek and launched herself at James. They landed on the marble floor so hard the chandelier rattled, and proceeded to roll through the foyer like a sideways tornado. Whatever Jessica lacked in raw power, she was making up for it with sheer anger—and a natural willingness to fight dirty.
I stumbled backward before I got knocked down. If I’d had a bucket of water, I would have thrown it on them. What could I use?
Poppy’s fire magic? I didn’t need to burn the two of them like toast.
Vampire strength? Wrestling James and Jessica—no thanks.
Aunt Belinda’s air magic? Mine wasn’t strong enough to hold the two of them.
Meanwhile they’d slammed into the side table and knocked a porcelain figure to the floor, where it instantly smashed into a zillion pieces.
At that moment, Victorine appeared above us on the final turn of the spiral staircase. She delicately cleared her throat.
James and Jessica rolled apart, huffing and puffing. James lay face-up, and he pointed at Jessica. “She started it.”
Jessica scrambled to her feet and seized a nearby candlestick, raising it over James.
In a motion almost too fast to track, Victorine blurred down the stairs and had Jessica in a headlock, disarmed, before Jessica could even squeak. “Will you behave, Initiate?” she asked, mildly, loosening her grip just enough so Jessica could make a tiny nod. Victorine released her.
James got up, keeping his eyes on Jessica. The two of them stood uneasily, every weight shift crunching on the remains of the porcelain figure.
Victorine ignored them. “Zelda. How nice to see you again. I fear I meet you far too often in my bathrobe.” She flicked at the plush collar, as if she’d just noticed she wasn’t dressed to the nines. “Have you brought me another stray?”
“We don’t have space at Poppy’s right now—”
“Of course not.” She glanced at James and Jessica, who were now both staring firmly at the floor. “And I already have the first toy in the set. Why not the second?” She descended, patted Jessica’s cheek.
If that had been anyone else, Jessica would have bitten off a few fingers. Instead, she stood motionless, not daring to make eye contact.
“Zelda has had a long day,” Victorine said. “I’m sure she needs her rest. Let us finish this and allow the night’s peace to descend upon us all.” She folded her hands, composed and formal. “Initiate, kneel.”
There was a pause. No one moved, least of all Jessica, who kept her eyes downcast and remained absolutely still. It would have been very hard to kneel on those shards, but James would have done it, if told.
Then Jessica spoke so quietly I could barely hear her. “I cannot swear, Lady Victorine.”
“Look at me, child.”
Jessica lifted her gaze. Even now her eyes did not glow as red as they had before.
“You would abandon your Elder and choose no other? This is death. You know the Covenant.”
Jessica’s chin rose a fraction of an inch. “I abandon no one, Lady. I am”—her gaze dropped, and she swallowed—“I am in between. I belong to nothing. I am becoming human.”
Hunger warmed James’ face like a fire. Had Poppy been there, I had no doubt she would have seen his secret suburban dreams of picket fences and green lawns, adoring wife and growing family.
Victorine’s elegant eyebrows rose. “This is not possible.”
“I think this might take longer than a quick kneel-and-swear,” I said. “Maybe we could go sit down?”
The three of them looked at me like I’d burped in church.
“Are you inviting yourself further into my home?” Victorine asked, with her faint, cool smile.
“I’ve already been in your fancy living room, your exquisite kitchen, the red bedroom where Daniel did his best not to die, the library where Daniel swore allegiance, and the basement, also known as the murder room, where you threw sharp things at me. Oh, and that conservatory upstairs. Do you even have secret spaces left?” I looked around as if the crown moldings would reveal something new. Instead, a flash of movement outside the window revealed Crow perched on a wrought iron railing, silhouetted by the streetlight.
A guardian of the night. Guardian of a sleepless night, which seemed to happen a lot when I got mixed up in these things.
“Ah, Zelda. I forget how amusing you are.” She slipped her hands into her bathrobe pockets, for once almost girlish rather than ageless, and tilted her head in thought before seeming to come to a decision. “The three of you may join me in my garret.” She retreated upstairs with silent steps.
“A garret?” I said, wondering what she meant. A garret seemed far too shabby for someone like Victorine.
James and Jessica had returned to glaring at each other as soon as Victorine’s back was turned.
I stepped between them. “Come along, kids. Don’t want to keep the Lady Victorine waiting.” Then I led the way upstairs, our formation a triangle with me at the point, James and Jessica behind me, hopefully not deciding to kill each other on the way up.
Old-time photos still lined the walls in the stairwell. When we reached the next floor, we followed Victorine to another, smaller staircase that led upwards once more, to the level of an attic. Compared to Poppy’s townhouse, which was a pretty simple upstairs, downstairs arrangement with two bedroom suites over a living room and kitchen, this place was a never-ending spiral of rooms upon rooms. A large crystal doorknob winked in a white door at the top of the stairs.
Victorine unlocked the door with an old-fashioned key and let us in.