Night World 1 (16 page)

“Okay,” Poppy said, looking in the general direction he was pointing. She saw two tall and lovely girls, but she had no idea which was which.

“And that's Thierry, our host. He's an Elder.”

An Elder? The guy Ash was indicating didn't seem older than nineteen. He was beautiful, like all the vampires, tall and blond and pensive. Almost sad-looking.

“How old
is
he?”

“Oh, I forget. He got bitten by an ancestress of mine a long time ago. Back when people lived in caves.”

Poppy thought he was joking. But maybe not.

“What do the Elders do, exactly?”

“They just make rules. And see that people keep them.” An odd smile was playing around Ash's lips. He turned to look directly at Poppy.

With the black eyes of a snake.

That was when Poppy knew.

She backed away rapidly. But Ash came after her, just as rapidly. She saw a door on the other side of the anteroom and headed for it. Got through it. Only to find herself on a balcony.

With her eyes, she measured the distance to the ground. But before she could make another move, Ash had her arm.

Don't fight yet, her mind counseled desperately. He's strong. Wait for an opportunity.

She made herself relax a fraction and met Ash's dark gaze. “You brought me here.”

“Yes.”

“To hand me over.”

He smiled.

“But
why
?”

Ash threw back his head and laughed. It was lovely, melodious laughter, and it made Poppy sick.

“You're a
human,
” he said. “Or you should be. James should never have done what he did.”

Poppy's heart was racing, but heir mind was oddly clear. Maybe she'd known all along that this was what he was going to do. Maybe it was even the
right
thing to do. If she couldn't be with James and she couldn't be with her family, did the rest really matter? Did she
want
to live in the Night World if it was full of people like Blaise and Ash?

“So you don't care about James, either,” she said. “You're willing to put him in danger to get rid of me.”

Ash considered, then grinned, “James can take care of himself,” he said.

Which was obviously Ash's entire philosophy. Everybody took care of themselves, and nobody helped anybody else.

“And Blaise knew, too,” Poppy said. “She knew what you were going to do and she didn't care.”

“Not much gets past Blaise,” Ash said. He started to say something else—and Poppy saw her chance.

She kicked—
hard.
And twisted at the same time. Trying to get over the balcony rail.

“Stay here,” James said to Phil before the car had even stopped. They were in front of a huge white mansion fringed with palm trees. James threw the door open, but took the time to say again, “Stay
here.
No matter what happens, don't go in that house. And if somebody besides me comes up to the car, drive away.”

“But—”

“Just do it, Phil! Unless you want to find out about death firsthand—tonight.”

James set out at a dead run for the mansion. He was too intent to really notice the sound of a car door opening behind him.

“And you looked like such a nice girl,” Ash gasped. He had both of Poppy's arms behind her back and was trying to get out of the range of her feet. “No—no, quit that, now.”

He was too strong. There was nothing Poppy could do. Inch by inch he was dragging her back into the anteroom.

You might as well give up, Poppy's mind told her. It's useless. You're done.

She could picture the whole thing: herself being dragged out in front of all of those sleek and handsome Night People and revealed. She could picture their pitiless eyes. That pensive-looking guy would walk up to her and his face would change and he wouldn't look pensive anymore. He'd look savage. His teeth would grow. His eyes would go silvery. Then he'd snarl—and strike.

And that would be the end of Poppy.

Maybe that wasn't the way they did it, maybe they executed criminals some other way in the Night World. But it wouldn't be pleasant, whatever it was.

And I won't make it easy for you!
Poppy thought. She thought it directly at Ash, throwing all of her anger and grief and betrayal at him. Instinctively. Like a kid shouting in a temper tantrum.

Except it had an effect shouting usually didn't.

Ash flinched. He almost lost his grip on her arms.

It was only a momentary weakening, but it was enough for Poppy's eyes to widen.

I hurt him.
I hurt him!

She stopped struggling physically in that same instant. She put all her concentration, all her energy, into a mental explosion. A thought-bomb.

LET GO OF ME, YOU ROTTEN VAMPIRE CREEP!

Ash staggered. Poppy did it again, this time making her thought a fire hose, a high-power Jetstream bombardment.

LET GOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Ash let go. Then, as Poppy ran out of steam, he tried in a fumbling way to reach her again.

“I don't think so,” a voice as cold as steel said. Poppy looked into the anteroom and saw James.

Her heart lurched violently. And then, without consciously being aware of moving, she was in his arms.

Oh, James, how did you
find
me?

All he kept saying was,
Are you all right?

“Yes,” Poppy said finally, aloud. It was indescribably good to be with him again, to be held by him. Like waking up from a nightmare to see your mother smiling. She buried her face in his neck.

“You're sure you're all right?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“Good. Then just hang on a moment while I kill this guy and we'll go.”

He was absolutely serious. Poppy could feel it in his thoughts, in every muscle and sinew of his body. He wanted to murder Ash.

She lifted her head at the sound of Ash's laugh.

“Well, it ought to be a good fight, anyway,” Ash said.

No, Poppy thought. Ash was looking silky and dangerous and in a very bad mood. And even if James could beat him, James was going to get hurt. Even if she and James fought him together, there was going to be some damage.

“Let's just go,” she said to James. “Quick.” She added silently,
I think he wants to keep us around until somebody from the party gets here.

“No, no,” Ash said, in gloatingly enthusiastic tones. “Let's settle this like vampires.”

“Let's not,” said a breathless familiar voice. Poppy's head jerked around. Climbing over the railing of the balcony, dusty but triumphant, was Phil.

“Don't you
ever
listen?” James said to him.

“Well, well,” Ash said. “A human in an Elder's house. What
are
we going to do about that?”

“Look, buddy,” Phil said, still breathless, brushing off his hands. “I don't know who you are or what horse you rode in on. But that's my
sister
there you're messing with, and I figure I've got the first right to knock your head off.”

There was a pause while Poppy, James, and Ash all looked at him. The pause stretched. Poppy was aware of a sudden, completely inappropriate impulse to laugh. Then she realized that James was fighting desperately not to crack a smile.

Ash just looked Phil up and down, then looked at James sideways.

“Does this guy
understand
about vampires?” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” James said blandly.

“And he's going to knock my head in?”

“Yeah,” Phil said, and cracked his knuckles. “What's so surprising about that?”

There was another pause. Poppy could feel minute tremors going through James. Choked-back laughter. At last James said, admirably sober, “Phil really feels strongly about his sister.”

Ash looked at Phil once more, then at James, and finally at Poppy. “Well…there
are
three of you,” he said.

“Yes, there are,” James said, genuinely sober now. Grim.

“So I guess you do have me at a disadvantage. All right, I give up.” He lifted his hands and then dropped them. “Go on, scram. I won't fight.”

“And you won't tell on us, either,” James said. It wasn't a request.

“I wasn't going to anyway,” Ash said. He had on his most innocent and guileless expression. “I know you think I brought Poppy here to expose her, but I really wasn't going to go through with it. I was just having fun. The whole thing was just a joke.”

“Oh, sure,” Phil said.

“Don't even bother lying,” James said.

But Poppy, oddly, wasn't as certain as they were. She looked at Ash's wide eyes—his wide violet eyes—and felt doubt slosh back and forth inside her.

It was hard to read him, as it had been hard all along. Maybe because he always meant everything he said at the time he said it—or maybe because he
never
meant anything he said. No matter which, he was the most irritating, frustrating, impossible person she'd ever met.

“Okay, we're going now,” James said. “We're going to walk very quietly and calmly right through that little room and down the hall, and we're not going to stop for
anything
—Phillip. Unless you'd rather go back down the way you came up,” he added.

Phil shook his head. James gathered Poppy in his arm again, but he paused and looked back at Ash.

“You know, you've never really cared about anyone,” he said. “But someday you will, and it's going to hurt. It's going to hurt—a lot.”

Ash looked back at him, and Poppy could read nothing in his ever-changing eyes. But just as James turned again, he said, “I think you're a lousy prophet. But your girlfriend's a good one. You might want to ask her about her dreams sometime.”

James stopped. He frowned. “What?”

“And you, little dreamer, you might want to check out your family tree. You have a very loud yell.” He smiled at Poppy engagingly. “Bye now.”

James stayed for another minute or so, just staring at his cousin. Ash gazed serenely back. Poppy counted heartbeats while the two of them stood motionless.

Then James shook himself slightly and turned Poppy toward the anteroom. Phil followed right on their heels.

They walked out of the house very quietly and very calmly. No one tried to stop them.

But Poppy didn't feel safe until they were on the road.

“What did he mean with that crack about the family tree?” Phil asked from the backseat.

James gave him an odd look, but answered with a question. “Phil, how did you know where to find Poppy in that house? Did you see her on the balcony?”

“No, I just followed the shouting.”

Poppy turned around to look at him.

James said, “What shouting?”

“
The
shouting. Poppy shouting. ‘Let go of me, you rotten vampire creep.'”

Poppy turned to James. “Should
he
have been able to hear it? I thought I was just yelling at Ash. Did everybody at the party hear?”

“No.”

“But, then—”

James cut her off. “What dream was Ash talking about?”

“Just a dream I had,” Poppy said, bewildered. “I dreamed about him before I actually met him.”

James's expression was now
very
peculiar. “Oh, did you?”

“Yes. James, what's this all about? What did he mean, I should check my family tree?”

“He meant that you—and Phil—aren't human after all. Somewhere among your ancestors there's a witch.”

“
Y
ou have
got
to be kidding,” Poppy said.

Phil just gaped.

“No. I'm perfectly serious. You're witches of the second kind. Remember what I told you?”

“There are the kind of witches that know their heritage and get trained—and the kind that don't. Who just have powers. And humans call that kind—”

“Psychics!” James chorused with her. “Telepaths. Clairvoyants,” he went on alone. There was something in his voice between laughing and crying. “Poppy, that's what
you
are. That's why you picked up on telepathy so quickly. That's why you had clairvoyant dreams.”

“And that's why Phil heard me,” Poppy said.

“Oh, no,” Phil said. “Not me. Come on.”

“Phil, you're twins,” James said. “You have the same ancestors. Face it, you're a witch. That's why I couldn't control your mind.”

“Oh,
no,
” Phil said. “No.” He flopped back in his seat. “No,” he said again, but more weakly.

“But whose side do we get it from?” Poppy wondered.

“Dad's. Of course.” The voice from the backseat was very faint.

“Well, that would
seem
logical, but—”

“It's the truth. Don't you remember how Dad was always talking about seeing weird things? Having dreams about things before they happened? And, Poppy, he heard you yell in
your
dream. When you were calling for James. James heard it, and I heard it, and Dad heard it, too.”

“Then that settles it. Oh, and it explains other things about all of us—all those times we've had
feelings
about things—hunches, whatever. Even you have hunches, Phil.”

“I had one that James was creepy, and I was right.”

“Phil—”

“And maybe a few others,” Phil said fatalistically. “I knew it was James driving up this afternoon. I thought I just had a fine ear for car engines.”

Poppy was shivering with delight and astonishment, but she couldn't quite understand James. James was absolutely beaming. Filled with unbelieving elation that she could feel like streamers and fireworks in the air. “What, James?”

“Poppy, don't you see?” James actually pounded the steering wheel in joy. “It means that even before you became a vampire,
you were a Night Person.
A secret witch. You have every right to know about the Night World. You belong there.”

The world turned upside down and Poppy couldn't breathe. At last she whispered. “Oh…”

“And we belong together. Nobody can separate us. We don't have to hide.”

“Oh…” Poppy whispered again. Then she said, “James, pull the car over. I want to kiss you.”

When they were in motion once more, Phil said, “But where are you two going to go now? Poppy can't come home.”

“I know,” Poppy said softly. She had accepted that. There was no going back for her; the old life was over. Nothing to do but build a new one.

“And you can't just wander around from place to place,” Phil said, doggedly persistent.

“We won't,” Poppy said calmly. “We'll go to Dad.”

It was perfect. Poppy could feel James think,
Of course.

They would go to her father, the always-late, always-impractical, always-affectionate parent. Her father the witch who didn't know he was a witch. Who probably thought he was crazy when his powers acted up.

He'd give them a place to stay, and that was all they needed, really. That and each other. The whole Night World would be open to them, whenever they wanted to explore it. Maybe they could come back and visit Thea sometime. Maybe they could dance at one of Thierry's parties.

“If we can
find
Dad, that is,” Poppy said, struck by sudden alarm.

“You can,” Phil said. “He flew out last night, but he left an address. For the first time.”

“Maybe somehow he knew,” James said.

They rode for a while, and then Phil cleared his throat and said, “You know, I just had a thought. I don't want any part of the Night World, you understand—I don't
care
what my heritage is. I just want to live like a human—and I want everybody to be clear on that….”

“We're clear, Phil,” James interrupted. “Believe me. Nobody in the Night World is going to force you in. You can live like a human all you want as long as you avoid Night People and keep your mouth shut.”

“Okay. Good. But here's my thought. I still don't approve of vampires, but it occurs to me that maybe they're not as completely bad as they seem. I mean, vampires don't treat their food any worse than humans do. When you think of what we do to cows…at least they don't breed humans in pens.”

“I wouldn't bet on it,” James said, suddenly grim. “I've heard rumors about the old days….”

“You always have to argue, don't you? But my other thought was that you're part of Nature, and Nature just is what it is. It's not always pretty, but…well, it's Nature, and there it is.” He wound up glumly, “Maybe that doesn't make any sense.”

“It makes sense to me,” James said, entirely serious. “And—thanks.” He paused to look back at Phil in acknowledgment. Poppy felt a sting behind her eyes. If he admits we're part of Nature, she thought, then he doesn't believe we're unnatural anymore.

It meant a lot.

She said, “Well, you know,
I've
been thinking, too. And it occurs to me that maybe there are other choices for feeding besides just jumping on humans when they don't expect it. Like animals. I mean, is there any reason their blood won't work?”

“It's not the same as human blood,” James said. “But it's a possibility. I've fed on animals. Deer are good. Rabbits are okay. Possums stink.”

“And then there must be
some
people who'd be willing donors. Thea was a donor for me. We could ask other witches.”

“Maybe,” James said. He grinned suddenly. “I knew a witch back home who was
very
willing. Name of Gisèle. But you couldn't ask them to do it every day, you know. You'd have to give them time to recover.”

“I know, but maybe we could alternate. Animals one day and witches the next. Hey, maybe even werewolves on weekends!”

“I'd rather bite a possum,” James said.

Poppy socked him in the arm. “The point is, maybe we don't have to be horrible bloodsucking monsters. Maybe we can be
decent
bloodsucking monsters.”

“Maybe,” James said quietly, almost wistfully.

“Hear, hear,” Phil said very seriously from the back.

“And we can do it together,” Poppy said to James. He took his eyes off the road to smile at her. And there was nothing wistful about his gaze. Nothing cool or mysterious or secretive, either.

“Together,” he said out loud. And mentally he added,
I can't wait. With that telepathy of yours—you realize what we can do, don't you?

Poppy stared, then felt an effervescent rush that almost shot her out of the car.
Oh, James—do you think?

I'm certain. The only thing that makes exchanging blood so special is that it enhances telepathy. But
you
don't need any enhancement—you little dreamer.

Poppy sat back to try and still her heart.

They would be able to join their minds again. Anytime they wanted. She could imagine it, being swept into James's mind, feeling him surrender his thoughts to hers.

Merging like two drops of water. Together in a way that humans could never know.

I can't wait, either,
she told him.
I think I'm going to like being a witch.

Phil cleared his throat. “If you guys want some privacy…”

“We can't have any,” James said. “Not with you around. Obviously.”

“I can't help it,” Phil said through his teeth. “You're the ones who're yelling.”

“We're not yelling. You're snooping.”

“Both of you give it a rest,” Poppy said. But she felt warm and glowing all over. She couldn't resist adding to Phil, “So, if you're willing to give us some privacy, that means you trust James alone with your sister….”

“I didn't
say
that.”

“You didn't have to,” Poppy said.

She was happy.

It was very late the next day. Almost midnight, in fact. The witching hour. Poppy was standing in a place she'd thought she'd never see again, her mother's bedroom.

James was waiting outside with a carload of stuff, including one large suitcase of Poppy's CDs, smuggled for them by Phil. In a few minutes James and Poppy would be heading for the East Coast and Poppy's father.

But first, there was something Poppy had to do.

She glided quietly toward the king-size bed, making no more noise than a shadow, not disturbing either of the sleepers. She stopped by her mother's still form.

She stood looking down, and then she spoke with her mind.

I know you think this is a dream, Mom. I know you don't believe in spirits. But I had to tell you that I'm all right. I'm all right, and I'm happy, and even if you don't understand, please try to believe. Just this once, believe in what you can't see.

She paused, then added,
I love you, Mom. I always will.

When she left the room, her mother was still asleep—and smiling.

Outside, Phil was standing by the Integra. Poppy hugged him and he hugged back, hard.

“Goodbye,” she whispered. She got into the car.

James stuck his hand out the window toward Phil. Phil took it without hesitation.

“Thank you,” James said. “For everything.”

“No, thank
you.
” Phil said. His smile and his voice were both shaky. “Take care of her…and of yourself.” He stepped back, blinking.

Poppy blew him a kiss. Then she and James drove off together into the night.