"That was pretty lucky."
"He knew the area where I'd lost it. It's no big deal."
"Why are you flustered?"
"I'm not. And I'm not a vamp, so don't psychoanalyze me."
An awkward silence swallows us, and I know her perceptive mind is picking me apart. Yeah, she loves her vampire psychology class, but it's surprising how easily that knowledge translates to humans. So I'm grateful when Michael arrives. Hey, you," he says, and slides into the chair beside me, wraps his hand around my neck, and leans in to give me a lingering kiss. I feel so safe with Michael, and the last vestiges of both strange encounters—the guy at school and Victor—drain away.
"Geez, why don't you two get a room somewhere," Vivi mutters.
Michael is grinning when he draws back and drops his arm around me, holding me near. "Wasn't expecting to see you here," he says to Vivi.
"So you didn't see me? Aren't Night Watchmen in training supposed to be observant?"
"We are. Which is why I know something's wrong." He looks back at me. "You were … distracted a second ago."
Vivi mouths, Uh-oh, and I know she thinks it's because of Victor, and maybe part of it was. But Hoodie is also still on my mind.
"Just a random thought," I assure him.
"Come on, Dawn, what's going on?"
I know he won't let up. It's the hunter in him. "When I was leaving school … a vamp was chasing me through the hallways."
"Hell's horses, you didn't tell me that," Vivi says. I didn't get a chance. Not that you could do anything about it." But Michael… I can see him shifting into hunter mode. I wonder if telling him was a bad idea. He's good, but he's never actually faced a vampire.
"Are you sure?" he asks.
I nod, then shake my head. "I don't know. I didn't see any fangs, but he was fast, faster than he should have been. When I threatened him with my stake, he just walked away."
"Was the sun still out?" Michael asks.
"Yes, but it was cloudy; maybe he made a dash for the school. Or maybe he came in last night and was waiting for me."
"Or maybe it wasn't a vampire," he says.
"Yeah, fine. Maybe I'm just crazy." I hate that my word isn't enough.
But Michael takes my hands. "No, that's not what I mean. I heard a rumor a few days ago that some kids wanted to mess with you. Antidelegate kind of stuff, probably Lila's idea."
"You didn't tell me?"
"There are lots of rumors out there, and I didn't want to bother you with it, not with your big solo outing just around the corner."
That makes sense—a lot more than some crazy rogue vampire walking away from me when I was an easy target. Lila has a lot of influence over her underlings, and maybe she was trying to impress Daddy by scaring the delegate: a little revenge for this morning's Vampire Defense class.
"I'll look into it," Michael says. "I'll find out where the rumor started, don't worry. From now on, though, no more late days at school, okay? I'll try to be around you whenever I can."
He squeezes me tight and I feel better. Michael's probably right: Some idiot kid in a hoodie wanted to rattle my nerves.
My phone rings. I dig it out of my jeans pocket and look at the display. Rachel, I mouth before answering. "Hey."
"Where are you?" she asks.
"Daylight Grill with Michael and Vivi."
I hear a little sigh and I know she's torn between protecting me and letting me stretch my wings. She doesn't have any experience at being a parent, but she's learning the ropes quickly. "Michael and I are going to watch the Night Train roll in. I won't stay out late," I promise, figuring that's her dilemma. "And Michael will walk me home."
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," she begins.
"People will be out. We'll be fine. We always do this. You know that."
"Just be careful. And come straight home afterward."
"Okay." I hang up and shrug. "Rachel doing her parenting thing. I can't stay out late."
Michael's brow is furrowed, but I don't think it has anything to do with the fact that I've been given a curfew. "Thought you lost your phone."
My gut tightens. I hate lying to him, but I don't want him ferreting out the truth. "Oh, yeah, well, turns out it was just in the bottom of my messenger bag. Dead battery. I couldn't find it with all the junk in there. I probably should clean that out tonight. The bag. Not the phone."
I'm rambling, I know, trying to cover up my lie. I'm lying to everyone lately, and I hate it. "Happens to me all the time," Vivi says, covering nicely.
"So are you going to watch the Night Train with us?" I ask, deflecting Michael's attention to Vivi.
"No. I'm just going to hang around here. Who knows? Maybe someone interesting will show up."
She wiggles her eyebrows and I know she's hoping Victor will come back.
"We should probably go," Michael says.
"Have fun, kiddies," Vivi says, waving her fingers. "Don't let the vampires bite."
I wonder how she'd feel to know that not less than ten minutes ago, she was flirting with one.
As we head for the one and only train station, Michael wraps his hand around mine. When we were kids, we held hands so we wouldn't lose each other in the crowd. Now we do it because we like the sense of belonging to each other that comes from the contact.
"If you see this creep who was bothering you at school, point him out to me," Michael says. "We'll have a little heart-to-heart."
"I probably overreacted." All of a sudden, it's like I'm seeing vampires everywhere.
"You don't overreact. Not even when you were a kid."
"How about that time on the playground when I shoved you off the swing because you hadn't gotten me a present?"
He grins. "I didn't know it was your birthday."
I was eight. I thought he was supposed to give me a gift because we were friends. After school he did.
"I still have it, you know. The rock you gave me," I tell him That's fair, since I still have the scar on my elbow that I got when I hit the ground."
I smile. Michael always knows how to put things in perspective. He's been in my life for so long, for all the big and small moments. I can't imagine him not being there.
The sidewalk begins to get congested with people. I imagine that before the war, the streets were often like this, filled with people doing things at night. Now it happens only when the Night Train comes through. More police, guards, and Night Watchmen are out. People feel safe. Or maybe they just need this one night when they can pretend they're not afraid of the dark.
It's a party atmosphere, with people laughing, talking, shouting. Some are even singing. Giddiness is in the air.
We see the milling crowd gathering around the station. The Night Train is a big deal, not so much for the goods it delivers, but because of Ian Hightower. The single greatest vampire hunter to ever live. The only human to kill an Old Family vampire single-handedly, to drive a stake right through its evil heart. He's the king celebrity now. And he's in charge of protecting the Night Train and its cargo.
"All right, Dawn," Michael says when we reach the mass of people, "work your magic."
When we were younger, we would have to dodge between people's legs and often got yelled at for cutting through to the front. That is no longer an issue.
Standing at the thinnest part of the crowd, I hold up my badge. "Agency, let me through. Agency, step aside." People turn around and look pissed until they see Michael holding on to me. Using his hands like oars, he rows us through the sea of people. A few cops try to stop us, until I hold the shining piece of metal up to their faces. Then they wave us through.
We get to the police barricades. "Admit it, Michael. You became my boyfriend for the front-of-the-crowd pass that I can provide."
He grins broadly. "That and your kisses."
To prove his point, he plants one on me. He draws back, and we find ourselves pressed against the barricade. On the other side, several cameramen and news reporters from the local station stand by, earpieces in and mics held high. Even though it arrives several times a year, the Night Train is still newsworthy. Or at least, Ian is.
A few minutes later a black plume of smoke rises in the distance, and excitement thrums through everyone. The massive crowd surges against us, pushing us painfully into the barrier. I get scared for a moment, certain I'm going to be crushed. But Michael gets behind me, puts his hands on the metal bars, and pushes back. His arms surround me protectively. I feel his weight press into me, providing a shield. "You know, this is my favorite part of coming here," he says. "It gives me an excuse to be really close to you."
I laugh. "Like you need an excuse."
"Think we'll ever grow tired of doing this?" he asks.
"Can't see that happening."
The behemoth train rolls in, its whistle going off to the cheers of thousands of people watching. The entire thing is encased in thick, black metal, making it seem like the night itself is on the tracks, moving from city to city. Dents and scratches mar it, evidence of the failed attempts by vampires to get on board and feast on the humans and blood bags it carries.
The reporters next to us begin blabbering.
"The Night Train has just come in. We'll see if we can catch a glimpse of Ian. Maybe he'll grace us with his presence. Help lift everyone's spirits."
A few passengers step onto the platform and are greeted by family members with great big hugs and kisses. I see a kid folded into the arms of loving parents, and push out the memories of a burned carriage, and Clive's sad face when he delivered the awful news that Mom and Dad weren't coming home. Rachel was there to comfort me, but Clive took on the responsibility of crushing my heart.
Next, the conductor comes out and begins signing clipboards, initialing here and there, before telling the station agents where the cargo is to off-load.
A tall man hops off the first railway car and the camera lights explode with flashes. The crowd behind us yells and screams, reaching out, frantically trying to brush up against a celebrity. Ian squints from the onslaught, and waves at everyone. His short-sleeved shirt shows the patchwork of tattoos on his arms, each one spotty and jagged, like it was done in the very trenches of the war in which he fought so bravely. A leather belt crosses his torso, a dozen metal stakes threaded through it for easy access. His short black hair moves with the strong winds.
"I want to be him someday," Michael says.
"You'll be a greater vampire hunter than Ian," I reassure him.
I can tell that my words please him. It's not a false compliment. I have absolute faith in his hunting and defense capabilities. But I also know the danger it'll put him in, and hope that when that time comes, he'll move about the city incognito, so Valentine doesn't center his attention on him. Ian, on the other hand, is far too recognizable now.
The great hunter strides over to the barricade and begins jotting his name on whatever scraps of paper people dig out of their pockets or purses. A few people manage to capture the moment on film, leaning across the metal barrier and putting an arm around his shoulders while their friends snap a picture. I can tell he doesn't enjoy it, that he sees it more as a duty to keep morale up, a job just as worthy as protecting the train.
When Ian gets to Michael and me, it's so deafening from people yelling to get his attention that I can't even hear myself think. I'm always amazed by Ian's appearance. His face is fighting to be young—he's only in his thirties—but the scars that run along his jaw and neck age him. He's tall and strong, and his massive hands swallow the tiny pen. I stare at those hands, thinking of them wrapped around a stake, plunging it into a vamp's chest, just like I've always wanted to do. There's something so powerful in him. Something so … intoxicating.
And then he's gone. Moving on to the next person. The reporters try to get him to answer a few questions, but he skips them. I see him grab a baby, look into a camera, and hand the infant back to its mother before he disappears among the outstretched arms of rabid fans.
Then I catch a glimpse of one of those fans. Only he's not rabid. He's as still as death.
It's Victor.
What the hell is he doing here? Victor's gaze shifts, locks onto me. I can't move. I can barely breathe. Because I know what I should do. I should shout, Vampire! Ian would go into hunter mode. Michael would join him. So why don't I? Why don't I alert everyone that there is a vampire in our midst?
Someone bumps into me and I lose sight of Victor. When I turn back, he's gone, vanished into the crowd. I'm left wondering if I really saw him at all.
"I can't believe what a rush it is to be here, even after all these years. Ian is so cool!" Michael says, his arms tightening around me. "Hey, you're shaking."
"I'm just a little cold." He pulls me even closer to his side. His warmth penetrates me.
"Let's get you home," he says.
We cross the street and, with fewer people around, begin moving easily. I can't help wondering if some of them are vampires.
"Here," Michael says, shrugging out of his duster. "I can't believe how much you're shivering. You didn't see that creep from school, did you?"
"No."
But seeing Victor seems to have shut down my body temperature controls. I'm freezing. So I slip into his duster. It smells like him, and it's carrying the heat from his body. I snuggle into it. The hem drags on the pavement. "It's going to get dirty."
"Who cares?" He slips his hand around mine. "The warmth can travel from you to me."
I laugh. "Smooth move."
"I love your laugh," he says. "It's always amazed me that you can still laugh after everything that's happened."
The streets are crowded again as everyone rushes home.