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But he couldn't make himself shove her away.

"So, what? You'll kill me?" she asked. "And then you'll go home, having destroyed the one place where you don't have to be the perfect, flawless Zachary Vida. You'll have destroyed the only person who welcomes you no matter what."

She slid against him and stretched her pet.i.te form so she could kiss his throat. Like one of Pavlov's dogs, he leaned back against the wall, his eyes closing. It was the same reflex that had shut him down at the end of the fight with Sarah.

"Did you really come here to kill me?" she purred.

"Yes."



She ran a hand up his chest. "You aren't doing a very good job. No, hush, love," she said, laughing, when he tried to protest. "It's okay." Abruptly, she drew back, pulling a small sound of protest from his throat as she said, "Come. Sit and relax a while. We'll figure out what you can say to your dear cousin. Was she the only one who saw?"

He took a seat on the plush couch, wondering even as he did what the h.e.l.l he was doing.

He had come here, once again, to kill her. He had resolved to do so dozens of times, if not hundreds, but every time she calmed him and set him off his guard.

At first, it had just been the fights. The frustration and fear and pain from the battle and any resulting injuries had faded away in the peace that a vampire's bite could bring. At that point, he had normally woken up in an empty house, long after the vampires had left.

The first time he had woken up with her still there, he had stormed out, refusing to say a word but lacking the courage to attack her.

The next time, she had woken him with a home-cooked meal and apologized that they had taken too much. I can take care of you here, or I can take you to the healers. Your choice I can take care of you here, or I can take you to the healers. Your choice. He hadn't wanted to go to the witches. He would have had to admit to them what had happened.

So he had stayed, and they had eaten breakfast together.

And it had evolved from there, over the course of what had to have been almost two years.

He enjoyed watching her as she moved about the kitchen, her feet bare and her hair down, softly humming some song he thought maybe he knew from the radio as she set a kettle on the stove to boil.

"Why haven't you killed me?" he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder as she portioned loose leaves into an old-fashioned tea ball. "I don't care for killing. I've done it when forced to," she admitted, "but this is nicer. Why? Did you want me to kill you?"

"I don't know."

She sat next to him and curled against his side.

"Poor dear. What can I do for you?"

The answer was utterly beyond him. Suddenly, he was shaking, a bone-deep trembling he struggled to control until she cooed, "It's all right. You don't have to be strong here."

It was the type of permission he didn't know how to react to. Wrapped in her arms, he could for the moment step outside the perfect Vida cage, and as soon as he did so, he was weeping.

It was all crumbling. His earliest memories were those of Jacqueline and Dominique screaming at each other, and then Jacqueline storming out. His mother wailing when they told her Jacqueline was dead, demanding to see the body for herself, leaving and never coming back. His brother, only five years old, wandering out in a quest for Mother, never to return. A parade of people leaving and getting killed, until at last Sarah was taken from them, or more likely ran from them.

Now Adia. He had seen the look of disgust on her face. If he lost her, too...

Olivia held him silently until the sobbing ceased; then she stood and quietly poured the now-boiling water for the tea she had promised.

He leaned over the cup, inhaling the steam, unable to meet Olivia's gaze.

"Better?" she asked.

"Probably never."

She sighed again. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

"I owe it to my family," he replied. Had always replied. They were all he had, after all. "After Dominique took me in-"

"Dominique." Olivia snickered, a sound that contrasted with her normally soft, gentle image. "Even the indomitable Vida matriarch isn't perfect, you know."

"I know." He remembered all too well the terrible days after Fredrick had died. "But I have to try, the way she does."

Olivia kissed his throat, and he let her, even though he knew that if she took his blood, it would probably kill him. He had lost too much to Sarah, too recently. But of course Olivia knew that and knew she had to control herself.

Heather's words came back to him. He remembered the way her eyes had flashed as she had tried to unsettle them all by describing her life.

Would you like to know what it's like when one of them takes you? When you're in their arms and they bare your throat and drink?

I have seen hundreds of humans pa.s.s through, willing to die, willing to give up everything, just to experience that bliss. And not just humans. The Vida line isn't immune, is it?

If only she had known. If she hadn't scrambled Jay's mind so much with whatever she had shown him, Zachary's secret surely would have been revealed right then, because he knew exactly why the bloodbond had stayed with Kaleo all this time. As it was, Jay had picked up on Zachary's relationship with Olivia, even if he hadn't gotten the more sordid details.

I have seen hundreds of humans pa.s.s through, willing to die, willing to give up everything, just to experience that bliss.

When his cell phone rang, he pulled it out of his pocket and then just stared at it as Adia's number flashed on the front. He wanted to put it away. Couldn't they just leave him alone for a night?

He wasn't ready to talk to her again, to face her. He didn't think he ever would would be ready. be ready.

Still, he hit the "talk" b.u.t.ton and said, "h.e.l.lo."

"Is now a bad time?" she asked.

Now was was a bad time, but that wasn't really what she was asking. She wanted to know if she could talk frankly. a bad time, but that wasn't really what she was asking. She wanted to know if she could talk frankly.

"Now's fine," he said. "Adia, I-"

"You are not not going to apologize, or say a single freaking word about it right now," Adia interrupted. "If you need to talk, we'll talk when the job is done. In the meantime, I need you to pull it together and be at my back. Can you do that?" going to apologize, or say a single freaking word about it right now," Adia interrupted. "If you need to talk, we'll talk when the job is done. In the meantime, I need you to pull it together and be at my back. Can you do that?"

He looked up at Olivia and met her steady gaze for several seconds before saying, "I can do that."

"Good. Then meet me at Michael's place, as soon as you can get there. We're ending this thing tonight."

Michael's apartment was in New York City. Had he located Sarah or the twins there? Adia obviously believed she knew where their targets would soon be.

"It'll take me three or four hours to get there."

"Then we'll make it by intermission."

Could it really be over so soon? And when it was done, what then? Adia knew the truth about him. So did Jay. He wouldn't be able to stay around, but he didn't know what else to be, or how else to live.

Adia hung up without saying goodbye.

"Where are you headed?" Olivia asked as Zachary put his phone back into his pocket and stood.

He shook his head. She knew he never told her outright where his hunts took him.

"Judging by the time, the people involved, and the mention of intermission, I'm guessing you're headed to Broadway," she said.

"Guess whatever you like," he said. "I have to go."

"Zimmy, you know I have no power to interfere with Kendra in Manhattan, right?"

He hesitated in the doorway and then shrugged. "I do now."

He felt calmer when he sat behind the wheel of his car. Adia had said it would be over that night. Maybe then he could rest for a while.

CHAPTER 22

SAt.u.r.dAY, 6:29 P.M. P.M.

SARAH FELT ABOUT as stupid as she ever had in her life, sitting in front of the full-length mirror while Christine did her hair. Christine had insisted on helping, and short of shoving her down the stairs, Sarah couldn't figure out how to convince her otherwise. as stupid as she ever had in her life, sitting in front of the full-length mirror while Christine did her hair. Christine had insisted on helping, and short of shoving her down the stairs, Sarah couldn't figure out how to convince her otherwise.

The evening had taken a surreal turn somewhere. Maybe it had been when she had tasted a symphony, or when she had spoken to Michael, but she was pretty sure it had happened somewhere on Madison Avenue, on a rack between Chanel and Vera w.a.n.g.

Going shopping for formal wear in New York with a vampire who had once founded a mystery cult in the days of the Roman republic, and who tended to chatter about the fall of empires in the tone most people used when discussing the weather, was a unique experience. Kendra referred to Nikolas as "Nikki," a nickname she claimed he hated. She also referred to Tizoc Theron, one of the most powerful mercenaries in all of vampiric existence, as her "Tizzy." The Inquisition was "a dreadful inconvenience," World War II was "a little spat" and the fall of Midnight, the vampiric empire that had reigned for centuries, was "an unfortunate event."

If Sarah lived two thousand years, maybe she would look back and agree. For now, the sentiments were almost as unsettling as the expression on Kendra's face when one of the shop managers-who had instantly appeared to wait on Kendra when she had crossed the threshold-presented a dress she found unattractive.

Now Sarah was in a turquoise dress with a neckline slightly lower than she was used to but, fortunately, no eighteenth-century-style hoops-something she had been a little worried about, given the individuals she was going with. Even better, she was almost certain no one had died in her acquisition of the dress, or in the search for shoes to match it.

"You look far away," Christine remarked.

Sarah tried to pull herself back to the moment. "Did you know Nero played the lyre, not the fiddle?" she asked. "There was no such thing as a fiddle yet." The misconception about which which musical instrument Nero had played while Rome burned was apparently one of Kendra's pet peeves. musical instrument Nero had played while Rome burned was apparently one of Kendra's pet peeves.

"Um, okay," Christine answered, pulling Sarah more truly into the correct time and place.

"I feel like an idiot," Sarah said aloud for the first time.

"You look beautiful," Christine insisted.

"Not because of that." Sarah shook her head. "Despite people trying to kill me, I just spent two hours shopping shopping. With, I'm pretty sure, an outright psychopath."

"That's most of the line, or so I've heard," Christine murmured, her tone so dry Sarah actually laughed.

"Where do I fit in, then?" she asked.

Christine shrugged. "Wherever you want to. What show are you seeing?"

"I don't remember." The name had been meaningless to her. She was hoping Kendra was right that she would like it, but wasn't convinced that her tastes and those of a millennia-old vampire were likely to be the same.

When someone knocked on the door, Sarah called out, "Come in," without realizing that it was still an hour before the time Kristopher had agreed to pick her up. Christine tensed, and this time Sarah was the one to put herself between the human and the vampire, making no attempt to hide her anger.

"What do you want?" she snapped at Kaleo.

Kaleo quirked one brow. "I'm not here to hurt the girl. I just need to speak to you, Sarah."

"Out! In the hall."

The Roman looked amused by the order but obeyed, which Sarah found a little unsettling. She took a minute to rea.s.sure Christine and then followed Kaleo.

"Nikolas and Kristopher aren't here," she said flatly. "So what do you want?"

"Are you under the impression you are such a nonent.i.ty that I could not possibly be here to speak with you?" Kaleo asked.

"If you have something to say to me me, then just get on with it. You freak the h.e.l.l out of Christine just by being here."

"Kendra mentioned you are going to a show tonight," Kaleo said.

"Yeah, she does like to chat," Sarah quipped.

Kaleo glared. "Do not confuse Kendra with some of our line. She may appear outwardly indifferent to reality, but she has been one of the driving forces behind the rise and fall of empires for two thousand years. She has a fondness for Nikolas, a pa.s.sing fondness for Kristopher, and thus far a limited tolerance of you that extends just far enough for her to suggest I might want to pa.s.s on a message."

The sharp words were enough to make Sarah step back and attempt to control her temper long enough to listen rationally. "You don't strike me as the errand-boy type," she said, not as an attempt to insult, but in a search for Kaleo's agenda. He did not seem likely to blithely agree to deliver messages.

"I may not like you, and I am certain you do not like me, but like it or not, we share blood. Beyond that, you risked yourself to save Heather, and I trust that you would do the same for any of our people. Your blood and your actions make you kin to me, and so I chose to come here to warn you."

Sarah nodded, taken aback by his tone and the absolute sincerity behind it. It was hard to reconcile this Kaleo with the one who had tortured Christine and killed the Ravenas' father. Of course, it was hard to reconcile the Nikolas she now knew with who she had once thought him to be.

For now, she accepted the tentative truce implied in the words.

She hadn't entirely resigned herself to the idea that living in this world meant not killing him, but if he insisted on talking like he gave a d.a.m.n about his human bonds and the others Sarah cared about, she feared she might start hating him a little less.

Kaleo continued. "Michael has spoken to other hunters," he said. "They do not know what theater you will be in, but they know you plan to rendezvous with the Arun afterward. Kendra has elected not to stop the hunters forcefully, because she believes it is a confrontation that will happen sooner or later. She has asked that you try not to disrupt the play"-he quirked his mouth in a half smile-"but understands if it cannot be helped. She a.s.sures me that there would be no way to smuggle a large weapon into the theater, but would like me to remind you that not all hunters insist on engaging their prey up close, and the streets can be exposed."

Though the Vida line preferred close contact in a hunt, she knew crossbows were favored by some hunters-the kind who would shoot the silent weapon from a rooftop or a higher window, or even across a crowded theater if they could get the weapon inside.

"Do you need to sit?" Kaleo suddenly asked.

The solicitousness seemed out of place until Sarah realized she had not responded to his warning, and several seconds had gone by.

Long before their short fling, Michael had been her best friend. But this new life of hers was full of betrayals by those from the former one, so why was this surprising?

As Kendra, through Kaleo, had said, this confrontation had to happen sometime.

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All Just Glass Part 14 summary

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