“You don’t know what you’re doing, Violet,” I said, lunging toward her. But Violet stepped daintily out of reach, still holding Cora tight.
“And you do?” Violet laughed sharply. “Good-bye, Stefan. I’ll send Samuel out to deal with you.” She dragged Cora across the lawn as Cora tried desperately to claw her way out of her sister’s grasp.
“Let go, Violet!” Cora yelled futilely. “Stop!”
I barreled toward them and knocked Violet away from Cora. But Violet quickly retaliated with a kick that sent me flying into the wall of Lansdowne House. In the split second it took me to regain my feet, Violet snatched Cora, threw her over her shoulder, and sped over the threshold into house.
The door clicked closed. I rushed against it, but it wouldn’t budge. All I could hear was the faint sound of Violet’s laughter from within.
Down at my feet, I noticed a glint of silver. Cora’s vervain necklace. She was defenseless against her bloodthirsty sister, and Samuel’s compulsion.
She was doomed.
17
I circled around, hoping to find some entry into the house. I knew it was no use—I hadn’t been invited in—but I couldn’t give up on Cora yet. At one rear window, I caught sight of Violet leading Cora up a curved staircase. I rapped desperately on the glass, not caring that Violet would hear me as well.
Both girls whirled around.
“I’ll be back,” I mouthed to Cora. Her eyes were huge and her face was twisted with fright. I didn’t think Violet would kill her, but beyond that, I had no idea what would happen. Would Violet turn her? Compel her?
I had to rescue Cora as soon as possible.
Without a second thought, I began to run, my feet thudding against the cobblestones, heading toward Whitechapel and James at vampire speed. I didn’t care who saw me. I didn’t care about anything. All I wanted was to move, to hear the blood coursing through my veins, to see the spots of light in front of my eyes that signaled I was close to fainting. To know I was doing everything in my power to save her.
I turned down the twisty alleyway and burst into James’s store, not bothering to knock.
“James!” I called, my voice taking on a hysterical tone. “James!”
He shuffled out from the back of the store, clad in a white nightshirt and holding a candle in front of him. From his expression, I could tell he wasn’t entirely surprised to see me.
“Hello,” he said, using the candle to light a candelabra at the front of the store. “What can I do for you?”
“Cora’s gone. Violet took her,” I said dully. “Damon’s disappeared. Samuel’s getting away with murder every night, and a crazy witch is now running around with a vial of my blood. I don’t have any money, my name is worthless, and for all I know the relocation spell was cast for Violet’s benefit.”
James looked up at me, grimacing. “You’re ranting like a madman,” he said.
“I’m sorry. But I’m in a hurry. I need to get Cora back before anything horrible happens to her. Do you understand?” I asked firmly. I didn’t trust James. I didn’t trust anyone. My gaze landed on the beating hearts in a jar on a shelf. What did those do? I had a wild desire to buy everything in the store. The answer had to be somewhere. And I was feeling more and more that the hawthorn in my pocket was useless, just a ruse to get my blood.
“Sit down.” James gestured at a threadbare red chair across from me. Realizing how tired I was, I sank down, massaging my temples. Mice were scurrying in the far corners of the store, and it was impossible to tell whether they were there because it was filthy or because they were an essential part of the inventory.
Across the counter, James was bustling around at his small stove range. Finally, he turned to me, a steaming mug of tea in his hands. “Goat’s blood. It’ll cure what ails you.”
Of course. Why had I expected anything else? “It won’t,” I said angrily. “I just don’t understand what I can do. I tried magic, I tried force, I have these supposedly bewitched thorns…”
“Hawthorns?” James perked up.
I nodded.
“Well, that’s a good weapon.”
“It is?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yes. And there’s your problem. Ephraim handed you a weapon that might actually work against your enemy, and you shove it away because you don’t trust the source. And therein lies the rub. You may be immortal, have the strength of ten lions, and be as quick as lightning, but you need to accept help. You can’t fight Samuel alone.”
It didn’t take long for me to grasp what James was implying. “I need Damon.”
“Good.” James nodded, as though I were an exceptionally clever student. “He’s at a boardinghouse over on Brushfield Street. Two blocks to the west. Came in four times yesterday and nearly cleaned me out of my vampire-hunting supplies. He got a holed stone to see the future, he stocked up on a few stakes, he got some hazel arrows for a crossbow, even though hazel is more effective in subduing bad fairies… I’m telling you, I’m making a killing off him.” I winced at the phrase. “Sorry,” James said. “Go find your brother. Maybe he’ll give you some fresh ideas. At the very least, it’ll keep you off the streets. No good can come from ranting and raving like a lunatic, mark my words.”
“Thanks,” I said stiffly. I stood up, feeling awkward. Did James just feel sorry for me, a vampire who couldn’t stomach death? Or was James a true friend in the vast network of underworld creatures, one who hadn’t lost his humanity? “Truly, thank you,” I said again, searching my pocket for some token with which to repay him.