Cora nodded, her pale blue eyes seeming hazy and unfocused.
"Yes," she said simply. "I'm Cora." Her voice seemed slow and syrupy. Had she been compel ed? I had no idea, no point of reference for how she usual y acted. But I felt deeply unsettled. Something wasn't right with this reunion. It was too convenient after so much searching.
"Are you al right? Where have you been?" I asked, trying not to sound like a concerned father. I didn't want to frighten her. After al , we were complete strangers. But I had to know.
Violet seemed oblivious to my questions and was stroking Cora's hair as if she were a favorite pet. "This is Stefan," Violet explained. "My new best friend. I have so much to tel you . . ." Violet spontaneously threw her arms around Cora's neck. Cora, like Charlotte, was wearing a silk scarf knotted tightly at the nape of her neck.
"Where were you?" I asked again, my concern reaching desperation. I couldn't make out Damon in the crowd of revelers, but I was sure he was close.
"Where was I?" Cora asked, confusion in her voice. I felt my stomach free-fal .
"Why does it matter?" Violet asked. "The main thing is, Cora's safe, isn't that true?" Violet reached behind her neck and unclasped her pendant.
I was about to tel her to keep it on when she hooked it around Cora's neck. The gold of the pendant gleamed in the candlelight.
"This is your don't-go-away present, you hear me?" Violet said, a film of tears covering her eyes. Cora nodded, but she didn't seem to be listening. She was glancing over Violet's shoulder, clearly looking for someone. And while she seemed happy to see Violet, she wasn't overjoyed and didn't seem to ful y recognize that she'd been lost.
She kept blinking and tugging the chain around her neck. I watched, entranced. Had she been compel ed?
Just then, Damon sauntered up, carrying a bottle of champagne in one hand and champagne flutes in the other. Trailing him were Samuel and a tal man with short blond hair, wearing a top hat and suit.
"I've heard that there's cause for celebration," Damon said as he suavely popped the cork from the bottle. It exploded with a festive fizzing sound, and he began pouring glasses.
"This is my sister!" Violet explained, not tearing her gaze off of Cora.
"How nice," Damon said, leering. "Family reunions are lovely. And I knew I liked something about you," Damon said, draping his arm around Violet's shoulder. "Cora joined our little group just recently as wel , a friend of Samuel's brother. Now it seems we're just keeping it al in the family!"
"This is Cora," I said angrily. "Remember?"
Damon shrugged. "Like I said, not in the newspaper, not in my mind. My memory just gets worse and worse with age!" he exclaimed.
"Shut up," I growled.
"Is that any way to talk to a brother?" Damon responded, keeping a smile on his face.
"Here here!" Samuel said, raising his glass in a toast, unaware that anything was amiss. "To families. Including my own brother, Henry," he said, gesturing to the pale, blond man standing next to him. At first glance, he seemed to be about eighteen or nineteen.
"Pleased to meet you," I said, barely managing a polite tone. But Henry's face cracked into a wide smile, and he pumped my hand enthusiastical y.
"Pleased to meet you, too," he said in an aristocratic British accent that sounded just like his brother's. But his warm and almost na?ve expression was nothing like Samuel's - and immediately I noticed him casting his gaze on Violet.
"Hel o," he said warmly.
Violet turned to him, her upturned face ful of interest. I knew what I was witnessing was the lightning-quick passage of emotions that humans took for granted - the moments at which a stranger became something more, became someone a human could imagine growing old with. In the shadowy darkness, there was no way Henry could tel Violet was a waitress. Violet was speaking in her wel -modulated actress voice, and her new dress betrayed none of the stains of the Ten Bel s. This is a remarkable age. Just like George had told me, maybe Violet truly could transcend her class and find happiness. She deserved it.
Even though Cora had been found and seemed none the worse for the wear, I knew I couldn't leave until I cracked the mystery. Why was Damon being so cagey? There was no way he wasn't somehow involved with the murders. The question was, what had he done? And who had he done it with?
I looked at Henry and Violet again. They were engaged in conversation, their heads bowed as if they'd known each other for years. At least Violet was preoccupied and with someone safe, which gave me the chance I needed to search the party for the mysterious vampire who'd eluded me last night.
Moving through the crowded party proved fruitless. Girls so drunk they could hardly stand up were pawing at me, and the noise of the band overloaded my senses. I stepped outside the warehouse, thinking I would try to find the door he ran through last night. Perhaps he'd left something behind.
The fresh air helped clear my head. I started to walk around the warehouse, looking for a familiar window or door. And then, as the wind picked up, I smel ed it.
It was the scent of blood - warm, coursing, and close.
I gnashed my teeth together. The scent made me simultaneously eager to feed and nervous. The kil er must be one of the revelers inside the party. But who was he? Or - and this was the thought that fil ed me with terror - had he already made his move, and the fragrance in the air was a fresh kil ?
That possibility was what spurred me to race back inside the warehouse, tearing through the crowd, desperate to find the source of the scent. I didn't have any time to waste. It was as if I'd lived through the same scenario far too many times, always coming to the scene half a second, half a minute, or half a day late. But this time would be different, I thought wildly as I pushed past a dancing couple, the man whirling a woman faster and faster on his arm. I was no longer a "baby vampire," a term Lexi derisively used to use to describe me. I had wisdom, age, and blood behind me.