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think we can make it easier, exactly, but there’s
a place where we can keep him away from most humans, and from Black Cross, too.
Where Lucas might be able to learn how to handle what he’s become.”
    I brightened until I realized what Balthazar meant. Or did I ? Surely he couldn’t be thinking about that. “Where?”
Balthazar confirmed my worst suspicions by saying, “We have to take Lucas back
to Evernight.”
     

Chapter Four
     
    “TAKE LUCAS TO EVERNIGHT ACADEMY?” I repeated. “Have you
gone insane? Balthazar, think about it! Lucas was Black Cross. He spied on
Evernight for them. Mrs. Bethany hates him — everybody there hates him. They’ll
kill him on sight.”
    “They won’t. They can’t,” Balthazar insisted. “Any vampire
can come to Evernight at any time and ask for sanctuary. No matter who it is or
what they’ve done, Mrs. Bethany has to take them in.”
    “But that’s Mrs. Bethany’s rule, isn’t it? She can break it
any time she wants.”
    Balthazar’s mouth twisted, the closest he could come to a
smile on a day as dark as this one. “Mrs. Bethany doesn’t break rules. You
should know that. Remember, she let Charity in.”
    True, and Mrs. Bethany and Charity hated each other
fervently. I Wasn’t convinced, though. Lucas had been a vampire hunter; surely
that was worse than being any kind of vampire, no matter how dangerous.
    Some of my reluctance was more selfish. Going back to
Evernight Academy would mean returning to my parents. On one hand, I wanted to
see them again so badly it hurt; on the other, I knew that they’d always feared
and rejected wraiths. If they rejected me — as Kate had Lucas — I didn’t think
I could bear it.
    I heard footsteps on the concrete steps outside and went to
the door to let in Vic and Ranulf, who had a large sack full of what I
suspected were pints of cow’s blood. Vic did come in this time, but he didn’t
move more than a couple steps past the door. When he caught me looking, Vic
handed over the bag, then fished out a single bottle of Mountain Dew. “I figure
I should probably hang in the backyard for a while,” he said, his eyes focused
nervously on the floor where Lucas lay. “Until you guys chill Lucas out.”
    “Good idea.” I took the shopping bag to the folding table.
“Thanks again, Vic.”
    “Just give me another day or so before we get attacked
again. That’s thanks enough.”
    Balthazar and Ranulf each took a pint from the sack, each one
in a little plastic container, like the kind they use to serve soup to go at a
deli.
    They both opened them up and started drinking, while Lucas
still lay on the floor. At first I thought they were being selfish, but I soon
realized what they were doing: regaining their strength. If Lucas awoke as
savage as he’d been when Balthazar staked him, they’d need it.
    I took a couple of pints and put them in the microwave.
Blood always tasted better at human body temperature. When they were ready, I
glanced over at my friends. Ranulf was finishing, tipping up his cup to get the
last drops; Balthazar’s lips were tinted dark red. Drinking blood had been so
delicious. I realized that I missed it, maybe more than anything else about
being alive.
    The guys were prepared. I knelt at Lucas’s side, putting the
pints within reach. Slowly I wrapped my hand around the protruding handle of
the stake. Splinters jabbed into my palm, and I imagined the pain Lucas must
have felt in the seconds before he passed out.
    “On the count of three,” I said. “One .. . two — ”
    I tugged the stake out. It made a wet, disgusting sound.
Lucas writhed on the floor, and his eyes opened wide. He inhaled, deliberately
sniffing the air. I knew he’d caught the scent of blood.
    “Drink,” I whispered. “Drink.”
    Lucas’s hand shot out to clutch one of the containers. In an
instant he was gulping down the blood, thick swallows that made his Adam’s
apple bob in his extended throat. Within seconds, he emptied the