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ghosts could never claim.
    “Neither,” Maxie said. “He Wasn’t born to be a wraith, like
you were. Christopher learned everything on his own. He has this amazing inner
strength. You’re going to like him, Bianca. Why don’t you come with me now?”
    I couldn’t do it. Christopher might have amazing strength he’d
used to save me — but he had also attacked me. The world of the wraiths
remained foreign and frightening; I had no idea how my powers related to the
cold, revenge — driven creatures I’d encountered at Evernight Academy. Maybe it
was crazy to still be frightened of ghosts after I’d become one myself, but the
thought of joining them forever scared me deeply. More than that: going into
that world felt like giving up on life.
    “I can’t,” I whispered. Maxie’s face fell, but she didn’t
argue.
    I pulled away from the room, away from her, and vanished
again into the bluish fog that was my mind’s way of making sense of pure
nothingness. Lucas filled my thoughts, and I willed myself back to his side.
    When I reappeared in the wine cellar, I immediately got the
sense that more time had passed for Balthazar than it had for me; he’d finished
his glass of wine and was across the room, lying on our bed.
    Lucas lay exactly as he had fallen. The sight of him as a
corpse hit me anew, and it took my whole strength not to fade out again so I Wouldn’t
have to bear the loss for a while. He deserved better than that. No matter how
difficult it was to endure, I would remain by his side.
    Balthazar realized I was there with a start, but he said
nothing.
    I didn’t want to argue with him anymore; I was too sad for
that, too tired. Instead I asked, “Isn ‘t there anything we can do for him?”
    “No.” Balthazar sat up. His curly hair was mussed, and I
realized he’d been asleep. No doubt he was exhausted; it hadn’t exactly been an
awesome couple of days for him, either. “The urge to kill — it’s powerful,
Bianca. It can be overwhelming. The vampires You’ve known have nearly all been the
ones who mastered that urge, but they’re a minority.”
    “You mean, most of them end up like — like Charity.”
    He closed his eyes briefly at the mention of his younger
sister’s name. “No. Charity and her kind are special cases. Individuals with
the strength to keep going, but who have lost touch with what it meant to be
human. They’re the most dangerous. And, fortunately, the most rare.”
    “Then what happens to the others?”
    Balthazar rubbed his temple. If vampires could get
headaches, I’d think he had one. “They self — destruct,” he said quietly. “They
get taken out by Black Cross, or by humans who’ve seen just enough horror
movies to get the idea. Or they end themselves. Set a fire and walk into it.
They’d rather burn than endure the killing rage any longer.”
    I wanted to say that there was no way Lucas would ever do
that, but I couldn ‘t. No, Black Cross wouldn ‘ t be
able to take him down easily. But hating his vampire nature as he did, already
burdened with the fact that he’d tried to kill both his mother and one of his
best friends — it was entirely possible that Lucas could end his existence. He’d
see it as the right thing to do, the only way to keep people safe.
    “The hunger is stronger for some of us than it is for
others,” Balthazar continued. “As badly as I crave blood sometimes .. . it’s nothing compared to what
some other vampires endure. The ones who self — destruct are always the ones
with the greatest hunger. It makes them crazy, turns their minds inside out.”
    Our eyes met, as if he was asking me whether he had to go
on. But I knew I needed him to say what came next. Balthazar, understanding,
said, “It looks like Lucas is one of the hungry ones.”
    “Isn’t there anything we can do for him?” I said. “Any way
to make this easier?”
    Slowly Balthazar rose from the bed and walked toward me, his
expression uncertain. “I don’t