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Claire’s mom paused now, and let go of her hand. The images stopped abruptly, and Claire opened her eyes.

“I’d like to keep the visuals of this next part private.” Lynn took a sip of coffee and went on, blushing a little. “One night, we … made love, and I soon found out I was pregnant with you. He insisted on marrying me, and I said yes. I was young, but I adored him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. My parents, however, were furious and threw me out of the house.”

Her mom took Claire’s hand again, and the images resumed in Claire’s mind. “I left high school after my junior year, and we got an apartment in Manhattan. As soon as I turned eighteen, Tom and I were married at city hall. I got my GED while working at a video store. Tom, who’d spent two centuries acquiring a variety of skills, and was not only a psychic but a master at forging the documents necessary in his former … occupation, got a job as a stockbroker.”

Claire laughed. “He must have made zillions.”

“Not really. He could predict most of the twists and turns of the market, but he had a high code of ethics. He didn’t want to take advantage of his gift, and thought it best to play it safe so that no one would suspect anything. With you on the way, we rented a house in Brooklyn. We were deliriously happy for the next year and a half, even though we had to keep looking over our shoulders, worried that the Grigori would come looking for him—and you. The day you were born was the happiest day of our lives. You were so perfect, so beautiful.”

Claire was treated to an image of her father playing with her as a baby. Love lit his face as he held her tiny, chubby, smiling infant self up above his head. He laughed with delight as he brought her close and covered her giggling face with kisses. The image brought happy tears to Claire’s eyes.

“We tried to pretend that everything would be okay, that we were safe in our little world, and that no one would ever find us in a city with millions of people. But one day, when you were six months old, Tom didn’t come home. I was in a panic. I didn’t hear from him until the next morning when he called me at my job. Tom said that a Watcher had descended on him as he was heading for the subway. The Watcher insisted he didn’t want to rat on a fellow Grigori, even if he had gone AWOL—the penalties were unthinkable. But he suspected Tom of a far worse crime: of being involved with a human female. If it was true and Tom gave the woman up, the Watcher said, he’d try to pave the way with the Elders for Tom to return to his calling. Otherwise, he’d turn Tom in and make certain he—and his ‘spawn,’ if any—faced the consequences.”

Claire opened her eyes with a sense of foreboding. “That sounds like Vincent.”

“Maybe it was. Tom never told me the Watcher’s name. All he said was that his life—
our lives
—were all on the line. He tried to kill the Watcher, but failed, and then he ran.”

“Did he ever come home?”

Her mom shook her head, tears studding her eyes as she let go of Claire’s hand. “No. He said the danger was too great. He couldn’t take that chance. He’d set up a bank account for us with everything he had. He told me to pack up and leave town immediately, change my name, start over somewhere else, and never try to find him. That he would come to us when he could.
If
he could. That’s the last time I ever heard from him.”

“And you’ve been running ever since,” Claire said softly. “I wonder what happened to him. Where did he go? Is he even still alive?”

“I ask myself that every single day. I pray that he’s all right. It’s a comfort to at least know now that he was never caught.” Her mom wiped away a tear that was rolling down her cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you, honey. But you can see why it had to be a secret. I kept hoping that you wouldn’t Awaken, and that there’d be no need to tell you any of it.”

“Well, I know everything now. And it looks like history has just repeated itself.” All the heartbreak of the present returned with a crushing blow, and Claire sank back against the sofa, tears forming in her own eyes. “Mom, I’m so sorry that happened to you—to us.” With a sigh, she added, “What am I supposed to do now?”

“I know it’s hard, sweetheart. But the carousel of life is going to keep spinning, and you need to just hang on and move with it.”

“How?”

“You have schoolwork to do, a scholarship to maintain, friends to hang out with, and colleges to apply to eventually. And as you do all these things, you will one day meet another boy that you like.”

“What? No way.” Claire shook her head emphatically. “That’s never going to happen.”

“It will. I understand that your heart is breaking right now, but it will heal, if you let it.”

“Yours never did.”

“Don’t make the same mistake I did, Claire. Don’t shut yourself off from loving other people, just because this one relationship didn’t work out.”

“This
one relationship
?” Claire repeated quietly. “Mom, you make it sound so mundane and ordinary. But it
isn’t
.”

Her mom looked at her pointedly. “Did you fall in love with Alec because of
what
he is?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Then, deep down, he’s just a boy you connected with. And there are lots more of them. I know it won’t be easy. But you deserve all the best that life has to offer, Claire. You are what you are … because of me. Because of the choices I made. It will kill me if you’re denied happiness and love because of those choices. Please, honey, promise me that you’ll try to keep an open mind about the future.”

A brief silence fell. Finally, Claire said solemnly, “I’ll try.”

Her mom kissed Claire’s hair and said with a small smile, “Good. I think the first step on the road to recovery is this dance on Saturday.”

Claire drew back and stared at her mother, aghast. “You don’t seriously expect me to go to Homecoming
now
?”

“I expect nothing. It’s your call, but I hope you will. You’re up for princess. I know how these things work. Someone else
will
ask you.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to go with anyone but Alec.”

“Well then, you can always go with your friends. Just think about it, okay? You have a whole week to figure it out.”

It was four a.m. by the time Claire went to bed. She cried herself to sleep, and then dreamed of Alec. They were back in the phantom restaurant Vincent had created, and Alec was holding her hand.
I’m sorry
, he was saying brokenly.
You’ll be happier without me. This is good-bye
. The dream ended with her standing alone on the hillside at school, a ferocious cougar leaping out at her from the darkness. She awoke in a panic, gasping, her pillow wet with tears.

Claire slept in the next morning. She spent all day Sunday in bed, struggling to eat a few bites of the food her mom brought in on trays. She turned off her cell phone, refusing to talk to anyone. Time stood still. All color seemed to have faded from the world. Even the sky outside was dim and gray, and a light rain began to fall, as if the universe was weeping with her.

It was impossible to believe she would never see Alec again. Knowing that he was going back to a lonely job and an existence he despised—always on the road, fitting in nowhere, a monk assassin—that he’d given up his dream of living among humans, all because of her, was too terrible to contemplate. And yet, she realized, a far more horrifying scenario might ensue. If Vincent couldn’t convince the Council to go easy on Alec when he returned, Alec might be put to death—and Claire would never even know. She was consumed by misery and guilt, as if a part of her heart and her guts had been torn out, leaving her ripped and bleeding, never to mend.

Monday dawned gloomy and overcast. Claire awoke groggy and puffy-eyed, and wore sunglasses to avoid questioning looks. When she opened her locker, she saw with a jolt of fresh pain that all of Alec’s stuff was still there. Maybe Vincent hadn’t given him time to clear it out before making him leave. Although it was difficult to see Alec’s books and the black metal box, in a way, Claire was glad; it was physical proof that Alec existed, that he had once been a part of her life. She heard Erica’s voice behind her and turned.

“Claire! I called and called yesterday, but it went straight to voice mail. Where’ve you been?” Without pausing for a reply, Erica went on excitedly, “Did you see the list? I’ve been dying to tell you all weekend. You and Alec knocked ’em dead on Friday. You’re singing in the Homecoming assembly!”

The news hit Claire like a punch in the stomach. “That’s great,” she responded brokenly, “but you can cross us off, because Alec and I won’t be performing.”

“Why not?”

“Because he just left town for good.”

Erica let out a quiet gasp. “What?
Why?
”

Claire felt fresh tears spring to her eyes. “To save my life.”

thirty-one

B
y the end of lunch, Claire had filled Erica and Brian in on everything, including her all-nighter with her mom. They were supportive and empathetic, but nothing they said could comfort her.

It was strange to be surrounded by people who were chattering happily and going on with life as usual. To Claire it felt as if everything she knew and loved had come to a crashing end, like the scaffolding that had nearly collapsed on her. Alec was gone, and if Helena’s warning and vision proved true, his sacrifice would be for nothing. Unless Claire could figure out how to stop it, she might die anyway—from a mountain lion attack.

Claire felt hollow, empty. She took notes in her remaining classes like an automaton, without really hearing or absorbing anything. The one thing she did notice was that a dozen or more girls had shown up in school wearing elbow-length gloves. She and Erica seemed to have started a fad after all.

After Spanish—the last class of the day—Neil caught up with her just outside the door.

“I heard about Alec.” There was sympathy in his golden-brown eyes.

“I think everyone has by now.” Claire kept her hands in her pockets, her voice flat.

Neil walked beside her down the path toward their lockers. “Is he at least going to stick around long enough to take you to the Homecoming Dance?”

“No. He’s already gone.”

“That’s messed up. I don’t get why he’s leaving. He seemed to really like you.”

Sorrow gathered in her chest and throat. “It’s a long story, but it doesn’t matter.”

“It
should
matter.” Neil frowned. “I know he hurt you, and I’m sorry. But I hope you’ll still go to the dance.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Should I be complimented or insulted?”

“I think both. Neil, if you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t want to go either.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Brennan, but I don’t think I’d fit in your shoes. I’d fall on my face.”

In spite of the sadness pooling within her, a small smile tugged at her lips.

“What’s that? Are you smiling?” Neil craned his face down toward hers, taunting her with a goofy, bug-eyed expression. “Don’t do that, Claire. Do anything but smile!”

Claire’s reluctant grin grew wider. Now she understood what Alec had meant about Neil’s innate sense of charm. Maybe it wasn’t a superpower, but it might as well have been. With an exasperated grunt, she covered her face with her hands. “I haven’t heard that line since I was in kindergarten.”

“And I can’t believe it still works! Claire, what you need now is a project to throw yourself into.”

“A project?”

“To distract you. I say it’s time to start a campaign to win that princess crown.”