Sitting up, I winced as I touched my temple. Luckily, there was no blood, but a lump was already forming, and I glared at the staircase. My stake had rolled under the table, and I picked it up, curling my fingers around the wood. The Council may prefer for us to send monsters to them, but staking a vamp in self-defense? They'd be okay with that.
Probably.
I carefully made my way up the stairs, stake raised at shoulder level. The wall was lined with those tacky globe lamps-seriously, vampires are the worst-and a twinkling caught my eye.
Glancing down, I saw that I was covered in a fine layer of shimmery silver. Oh, gross. He was one of those body-glitter-wearing jerks. Now I was even more embarrassed that I'd let Pascal get inside my head, that I'd dropped my guard long enough for him to get away from me. If he got out of the house...
My fingernails dug into the stake. No. I was not letting that happen.
The landing was covered in burgundy carpet that muffled my footsteps. Directly across from me was a large mirror in a heavy gilt frame, and in it, I looked a lot less like a bad-ass vampire slayer and a lot more like a scared teenage girl.
My skin was nearly as papery white as Pascal's, a sharp contrast against the bright red of my braid.
Swallowing hard, I did my best to calm my hammering heart and racing mind. There was one thing vampires and Brannicks had in common: a few of us had special powers. Pascal's was reading minds, and mine-in addition to the strength and quick healing that came with being a Brannick-was sensing Prodigium. And right now, my Spidey senses were telling me Pascal had gone to the right.
I took one step in that direction.
On the one hand, my detection skills were dead on. On the other, I'd expected Pascal to be cowering behind a door or trying to open a window and get out. What I hadn't expected was for him to suddenly come barreling out of the darkness and slam into me.
We flew back onto the landing, crashing to the floor. I felt the stake tumble from my fingers, and with a grunt, tried to ram my knee up into Pascal's stomach. But this time, Pascal had the advantage-he was faster than me, and he'd caught me by surprise. He dodged my knee like it was nothing, and his fingers sank into my hair, jerking my head hard to the side and exposing my neck.
He was smiling, lips deep pink against the stark white of his fangs, and his eyes were black pools. Despite the stupid hair and the silly name and the flowing white shirt, he looked every bit the terrifying monster.
And when he ducked his head and I felt the sharp sting of his fangs piercing my skin, my scream was high and thin. This couldn't be happening. I couldn't go out like this, drained of blood by a dorky vampire calling himself Pascal.
A gray circle began to fill my vision, and I was so cold, colder than I'd ever been in my entire life. Then, from above me, there was a flash of silver, a glimpse of bright copper, and suddenly, Pascal was the one screaming. His body fell off of mine, and I raised a trembling hand to my neck, the rush of blood hot against my freezing skin.
Blinking rapidly to clear my vision, I scooted backward on the carpet, watching as the redheaded woman all in black dropped a knee in the middle of Pascal's chest, one hand pushing a bright silver amulet against his cheek. Her other hand reached back and pulled a stake from the belt around her waist.
The stake swung down, and there was a sound almost like the popping of a bubble, and Pascal vanished in a surprisingly tiny cloud of dust and ash.
Head still swimming, I looked at the woman as she turned back to me.
Even though I knew it was impossible, I heard myself ask, "Finn?"
But the woman who strode over to me wasn't my sister.
"You okay?" Mom asked.
I pressed my palm tighter to the holes in my neck and nodded. "Yeah," I replied. Using the wall to brace myself, I went to stand up. As I did, my eyes skated over my mom, noticing that even though she'd been right on top of Pascal, she'd somehow managed to avoid getting even one speck of glitter on her.
"Of course," I muttered, and then the carpet was rushing up to meet me as I passed out at Mom's feet.
CHAPTER 2
The lights in our kitchen were too harsh. My eyes ached in the fluorescent glare, and my head was pounding. It didn't help that we'd taken an Itineris home. That was a type of magic portal, and they were located at posts all over the world. Problem was, like most things involving magic, there was a catch. While an Itineris made traveling a lot more convenient, it was also really rough on your body. I guess getting bent and twisted through the space-time continuum isn't exactly good for you.
The concoction in front of me finally seemed cool enough to drink, so I choked it down. It tasted like pine trees smell, but the ache in my head disappeared almost immediately. Across from me, Mom turned her coffee mug around and around in her hands. Her mouth was set in a hard line.
"He was a young vamp," she said at last, and I fought the urge to lower my head to the table.
"Yes," I replied, hand reaching up to touch the little puncture marks just under my jaw. Thanks to Mom's "tea," they were already starting to close, but they still hurt.
"He should have been no issue at all for you, Isolde," she continued, her gaze still on her mug. "I would never have sent you in there alone if I'd thought you couldn't handle it."
My hand dropped back to the table. "I could handle it."
Mom looked at the bite on my neck and raised her eyebrows. When she was younger, my mom had been beautiful. And even now there was something about the strong lines of her face that made people look twice at her. Her eyes were the same dark green as mine and Finley's, but there was a hardness that neither I nor my sister had.
"I mean, I was handling it," I mumbled. "But he was one of those mind-reading ones, and he...he got inside my head-"
"Then you should have shoved him right the heck out," Mom fired back, and I wondered what felt worse, the vampire bite or the guilt.
With a sigh, Mom dropped her head and rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Iz. I know you did the best you could."
But your best wasn't good enough.
Mom didn't have to say the words. I felt them hanging between us in the kitchen. There were a lot of words filling up the space between me and Mom these days. My sister's name was probably the biggest. Nearly a year ago, Finley disappeared on a case in New Orleans. It had been a totally routine job-just a coven of Dark Witches selling some particularly nasty spells to humans. We'd gone together, but at the last minute, Finley had told me to wait in the car while she dealt with the witches herself.