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feelings in my chest.
    “Thanks for having me over,” I reply, certain that the look I give him echoes the look he’s giving me.
    “Drive safe.” He kisses me again. “Text when you get home.”
    I nod and wander through the cold to my car, grateful that he’s the kind of guy who’d get it warmed up for me. I flash the lights as I pull out and he waves and blows kisses my way before closing the door behind him. I watch through my rearview as the lights in the living room go off and the lights in the bathroom come on. Smile as I pull out into the street and drive home, lost in thoughts of him brushing his teeth and crawling into bed, wishing he was doing it with me.
     
    ********
     
    Mr. Twinklebottom most definitely got upset with me last night. Not only did he unravel and shred an entire roll of toilet paper, he also discovered the paper towel roll and went to work on that. I’ve never heard of a cat with separation anxiety, but this little guy definitely missed me. He’s busy winding his way through my feet, and I’m tripping all over the place, trying not to squash him. I scoop him up and nuzzle him close. Can’t help but smile when his purr box kicks into high gear and his little eyes slide closed. Whoever said animals don’t have thoughts and emotion never took much time or paid much attention.
    I survey the house, looking for any footprints in the snow, any signs that anyone’s been here and find nothing. Regardless, I ward the house against vampires and feel better afterwards. It’s gonna be another gorgeous day, warmer than usual, considering it’s almost the end of December. I know my parents are probably freaking out because I haven’t made plans to come and visit on Christmas. I also know they’re probably trying to be cool and give me some space while I deal with Becca’s death.
    Ha.
    If only they knew.
    Deciding it’s probably best to be a good daughter, I shoot mom a text to let her know I’m looking forward to coming home on Christmas and ask her what time she wants me there. A string of excited texts comes in almost as soon as I hit send and I cringe, imagining her cradling her phone for the last day or two, swiping it open, checking for texts from me.
    I need to be better about that.
    Thinking about my parents brings up thoughts of Becca’s parents, which brings up thoughts of Becca. I wonder how she’s doing. I’m pretty sure they’ve got her holed up in Windsor Manor because, well, there’s lots of reasons.
    First of all, she’s the first vampire/witch hybrid and no one knows what that means. What she’s capable of. What might trigger a bloody rampage on her part.
    Second, since everyone’s busy recovering from her funeral, it’d be bad form for someone to find her out, wandering the streets.
    And third, if the witches have her, the vampires don’t. And that can only mean good things for the witches, right?
    Thinking of Becca has me antsy. I’m still really mad at her, but the anger has kind of softened, dissipated. It’s not just plain old fiery rage anymore; the hurt is more prevalent, now. There’s nothing like being betrayed by the person you thought had your back the most…
    And then, for some reason, my thoughts line up in a line and I have a crazy idea. Who needs ancient books with missing pages when there’s a Becca? A Becca who might have the missing pieces of information I need to string together my history. And if she doesn’t have all of it, she most definitely has some of it.
    I put Twinks down and apologize for leaving him again so soon after getting home, grab my coat and head out to find Becca before I can talk myself out of it.
     

Chapter Six
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    For some reason, despite the bright sun and warmer temperature, I’m tense and have the heebie-jeebies. Keep checking the rearview. Keep checking my side mirrors. Keep expecting to find someone behind me. Following me.
    I so need to relax.
    The valet gives me a strange look when I