“It’s not that late. Well, not for our kind. We’re just getting started.” Her sly tone and the small laugh that followed made Zoe clench the covers tighter. It made me raise an eyebrow in disbelief. “And that’s the problem,” Jill continued with a pout. “I know we were just at Clarence’s yesterday . . . but you wouldn’t believe how much I’m craving blood. Like, I can’t stop thinking about it. You have to take me over there right now, or I don’t think I can handle it!”
I studied her for a long moment, running a number of scenarios through my head, each one increasingly crazy. Before I had a chance to respond, Zoe spoke up. “It’s after-hours. You can’t leave the dorm.”
“Sydney could get me out,” Jill said. “Just call your teacher and tell her you want to do some late night studying off campus. She’ll do anything for you. Come on. Please?”
Zoe gulped, indignation warring with fear. “We can’t just jump on your whims. And Ms. Terwilliger’s busy tonight. We heard her earlier.”
“This isn’t a whim! It’s a necessity. I wouldn’t bother you guys if it wasn’t serious.” Jill put her hands on her h*ps for emphasis. “Things are worse because I’m trapped in a building filled with humans. Do you know what kind of temptation that is?” She glanced meaningfully between the two of us.
“She’s right, Zoe,” I said, deadpan. “Abandoning her in this state could be dangerous to other humans. It’s part of our job to prevent that. Besides, Ms. Terwilliger’s probably back.” Provided she wasn’t staying the night at Wolfe’s. Ew. “Even if she’s not, she’ll still call me in a favor to the front desk.”
“She would?” asked Zoe, momentarily forgetting vampire threats.
Jill grinned, giving us a full-on view of her fangs. “See? No problem. Let’s do this.” She turned toward the door. “You guys should get moving.”
I put on a stern look. “I’m the only one coming with you. Aside from the fact that Ms. Terwilliger can’t get everyone out of school, I just don’t think . . .” I paused as long and melodramatically as I could stomach. “Well, Zoe, I’d just feel better if you stayed here. I mean, we still need an Alchemist on campus, right?” I tried to make that last statement sound upbeat while simultaneously shooting her a It’s for your own protection look. She gulped.
“Sydney, you’ll be at Clarence’s in the middle of the night—”
“Everything’ll be fine,” I assured her, hoping I looked both terrified and brave. It wasn’t that hard to pull off, considering my anxiety was growing by leaps and bounds. What was going on? Whatever progress Eddie had made with reassuring Zoe in her driving lessons had probably been undone by Jill acting like the bride of Dracula. I reached for my coat and purse. “I’ll text you when I get there.”
Jill cleared her throat and nodded at my clothes. “You might want to change. I mean, you know, Clarence is a formal guy.”
I wasn’t in full-fledged pajamas, but I’d figured my oversized shirt and flannel pants would be fine for whatever ulterior plan Jill had—because I knew there must be one. “What exactly do you suggest I wear?” I asked carefully.
She shrugged. “Jeans and a T-shirt should be fine.”
I made a quick change, uttered more courageous procla-mations to Zoe, and then followed Jill down to the end of my hall, near the stairwell. I lowered my voice once I was certain we had privacy.
“Okay. What’s with the act? I’ve got two prevailing theories. One is that the bond has overridden you and made you act out some crazy impulse of Adrian’s. The other is that you’re helping him get me to sneak off on some romantic escapade—but I’m guessing you would have had me put on a dress for that one.”
Jill made no attempts at a smile. “I wish it were either of those. Sorry if I was over the top back there. I figured me rampaging for blood would be serious enough for Zoe to let you go without too many questions—and that she wouldn’t want to go with you. I feel kind of bad for freaking her out, though.”
“It worked. But seriously . . . what’s going on?” My chest tightened. “Is Adrian okay?”
“I don’t know,” she said morosely. “But probably not, since the bond numbed out when they started doing Jäger shots a half hour ago.”
“When they—wait. What?”
“Adrian’s at some bar by Carlton. He went out after you canceled tonight—but don’t feel bad about that,” she added quickly. “I know you didn’t have a choice.”
“I don’t feel bad. I feel . . .” How did you pick only one emotion for this sort of situation? My mind reeled. Adrian. Out at a bar, so drunk he’d shorted out the spirit in the bond. I wanted to crumple to the floor and bury my face in my hands as a million sensations ran through me. Sadness. Anger. Disappointment. They were just the beginning of the feelings threatening to burst from my heart. I put on a stoic face. “Well. It doesn’t matter what I feel. That’s his choice, and I don’t need to do anything about it. He can deal with the consequences tomorrow.”
I started to turn around, but Jill caught my arm. “Sydney, please. Things are usually pretty bad if I lose him like this. And he had a rough time in Dallas yesterday. Really rough. You wouldn’t believe how much power he used.” She shuddered at the memory.
“Don’t say ‘it’s not his fault,’” I warned.
“I won’t . . . but I’m not surprised this happened after all that spirit. Look, you have every right to be upset. I know he broke your deal, but please go to him. Just to help. I’m so worried about him.”
It was hard. The reason I was having so much trouble identifying an emotion was that I was just starting to freeze up all over, refusing to feel anything. Because if I did, I was going to have to accept that Adrian had betrayed me. Well, maybe “betrayal” wasn’t the right word. But he’d definitely let me down. If anyone but Jill had told me Adrian had lapsed, I wouldn’t have believed it. He’d seemed so adamant that night I’d dumped out his liquor, and I’d put all my faith in him.
“Okay,” I said. The pleading look in her eyes nearly made me cry then and there. “Where’s he at?”
She gave me the name of the bar and then returned to her room. Downstairs, I found one of the night clerks working the lobby. She was familiar with me and Ms. Terwilliger’s errands and barely listened as I explained how I’d get retroactive permission to leave. Waving me on, she returned to her copy of Vogue and smothered a yawn with her hand.
The Matchbox wasn’t exactly divey, but it also wasn’t the kind of pretty, trendy place I knew Adrian liked to frequent. Still, it served alcohol and was chock-full of college kids, which were probably his only criteria. A bouncer let me in at the door, stamping my hand in red to show I was under twenty-one, and then nodded me inside. Music from some local band blasted through the air, and for a moment, there were just too many people and too much movement for me to focus on anything.
When I was finally able to get my bearings, I didn’t see any sign of Adrian. What I did see, however, was a table of laughing people that had “art students” written all over them. Taking a chance, I walked over and waited for someone to notice me. Empty glasses and pitchers filled the table. When someone finally saw me, I asked, “Do you guys by chance know Adrian?”
A guy laughed. “Sure do. He’s the life of the party. Bought us two rounds.”
While surprising, that was the least of my worries right now. “Where’s he at?”
A lavender-haired girl, much more serious than the rest of them, answered me. “He just left. He said he had to go pick up something.”
“Did he say where he was going?” I asked.
She shook her head, and a blond girl cuddled up to her said, “He said something about ‘un-pawning.’ Is that even a word?”
“No,” I murmured, feeling baffled. A pawnshop? Why would Adrian go there? And which one? There had to be a dozen in the area.
“He took a cab,” added the first girl. “Then he said he’d walk home.”
Ah. That was something I could go on. I took out my phone and did a search for pawnshops within walking distance of his apartment. There were two. I then texted Adrian, asking, Where are you? I didn’t know if I could expect an answer, but in the meantime, it wouldn’t be hard to check out both shops.
“Thanks,” I told the girls. I was halfway to the door when the lavender-haired one caught up with me.
“Hey, wait,” she said. “You’re her, right? Sydney? The girlfriend?”
I hesitated. We weren’t supposed to acknowledge our relationship in public, but clearly, he’d been divulging a little. “Yes.”
“I’m Rowena.” Her face grew grave, and from the clear look in her blue eyes, I realized she wasn’t as drunk as the others. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“No idea what?”
“No idea that he had a problem. He almost always turns down going out, and the few times he has, he hardly has anything. I was kind of blown away when he jumped in tonight, and then . . . the more I watched, the more I got it. He had this look my stepdad used to get whenever he fell off the wagon. Like he’d been living in a desert and suddenly stumbled across an Evian machine. Then the more it went on tonight . . .” She sighed. “I knew. I’m sorry. I should’ve gone with him, but he seemed so confident.”
The earnestness and concern in her words nearly made me choke up. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not your job to look after him.” It’s mine.
“Yeah, I know . . . I just . . .” She faltered, and I understood why Adrian spoke so highly of her.
I gave her the best smile I could muster, despite how dead I felt inside. “Thank you.”
“I hope he’s okay,” she added. “He drank a lot.”
“I’m sure he will be,” I said, trying not to wince.
The first pawnshop I drove to was empty, and the guy working said no one had been by in an hour. I hoped my pawnshop deductions would actually prove right. Otherwise, I was out of luck since Adrian hadn’t answered my text. But then, sure enough, when I arrived at the other shop, I found him. He stood just inside their entryway, blocked by a metal grating that they worked behind at night. I could understand it, since night probably brought out sketchy people. And studying Adrian, he certainly seemed like one.
“I need it back!” he exclaimed. “I need it back. She needs it back. It’s a royal heirloom!”
The scruffy-looking guy behind the grating met him with a level look. “Sure it is. If you can’t buy it out, I can’t give it back.” I had the distinct impression he’d told Adrian this many times.
“Adrian,” I said. He spun around, and I flinched at the wild look in his bloodshot eyes. His normally perfect hair was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled. If I didn’t know him, I’d want a grating between us too.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Looking for you.” I forced calm, trying to still the panic rising within me. “Come on. We need to go. I’ll drive you home.”
“You can’t! Not until we get it back.” He pointed an accusing finger at the pawnbroker. “He stole it!”
The man sighed. “Kid, you hocked it for cash.”
“What?” I demanded. “What did you sell?”
Adrian raked a hand through his hair, messing it up further. “I didn’t sell anything. I would never sell it. I just lent it to him. And now I need it back.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out ten dollars. “Look, just give it back, and you can have this. It’s all I’ve got, but I’ll get you the rest in two weeks. I promise. That’s a perfectly reasonable deal.”
“That’s not how it works,” the guy said.
“What did you—lend?” I asked.
“The ruby. One of the rubies from Aunt Tatiana’s cuff links. I shouldn’t have left it here. Not in a place like this. It’s . . . sacrilege! Something like that has no business here. She told me to do it, but I know she doesn’t mean it.”
A chill ran over me. “Who told you to do it?”
“Her. Aunt Tatiana.”
“Adrian, she can’t tell you anything. She’s . . . gone.”
He tapped his head. “No, she’s here. I mean, not right now, but I know she’s waiting. And when I’m sober, she’ll be back and give me hell for this! I have to get the ruby back!” He turned with startling speed and pounded on the grating.
The shopkeeper took a step back. “I’m going to call the police.”
“No, wait,” I said, hurrying forward. “How much does he owe?”
“Two fifty.”
“It was two hundred!” cried Adrian.
“Plus fees and interest,” said the man, with far more patience than I probably would’ve had.
I reached for my wallet. “What credit cards do you take?”
“All of them,” he replied.
I paid for the ruby, and while the man went to get it, Adrian called after him, “There better not be a scratch on it!” When he got the ruby back, he held it up and scrutinized it with narrowed eyes, as though he were a master jeweler.
“Come on,” I said, taking hold of his arm. “Let’s go.”
He stayed where he was, clutching the ruby in his fist and bringing it to his lips. His eyes closed briefly, and then, with a deep breath, he followed me to my car.
He chatted a lot on the way home, relating antics and stories from the night, and going on and on about how he’d been wronged by the pawnbroker. I said nothing and barely heard a word he said. My hands clenched the steering wheel with white knuckles, and all I kept thinking about was that frantic look in his eyes when he’d pounded against the grating.