“No?” he asks, looking confused. “You’re not attracted to—?”

“I mean, no! Just no! I don’t know what, if anything, is going on with Jaxon and me, but we”—I gesture back and forth between us—“are not talking about it.”

“We aren’t?”

“No. We aren’t.” I shake my head emphatically. “Not now, not ever.”

“I swear, talking to you about boys is as bad as trying to talk to Macy about them,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Every time I ask her about Cam, she acts like I asked her to swallow eye of newt or something. But fine. No talking about boys. Except I do need to warn you that Jaxon is—”

“Dangerous. Yeah, Macy’s already ground that into my head. And maybe he is, but he’s never been anything but gentle with me, so—”

“I wasn’t going to say dangerous.” For the first time, there’s a touch of annoyance in his voice. “And you’d know that if you stopped interrupting me.”

“Oh, right.” I can feel myself start to blush. “Sorry.”

He just shakes his head. “What I was going to say is that Jaxon is not like any other boy you’ve ever met.”

“Well, obviously.” I do the same fang-miming thing I did with Macy, and Uncle Finn bursts out laughing, too.

“I meant for a lot more reasons than just his being a vampire, but yes, there is the vampire thing as well.”

Oh. His words set off butterflies in my stomach, though I’m not sure why. “What else is there?” I ask, because I can’t not ask. “I know about his brother—”

“He told you about Hudson?” Now my uncle sounds shocked.

“Just that he died.”

“Oh, yes.” The way his face relaxes tells me there’s a lot more to the story than what I know. Well, that and the fact that everyone has the same reaction when I mention that I know about Hudson. “His death left Jaxon with a lot of responsibility to shoulder—Hudson’s and his own.”

“I can imagine.”

“No, Grace, you can’t.” He looks more somber than I have ever seen him. “Because being a vampire isn’t like being a regular person.”

“Okay. Sure. But he was regular once, right?” I think back on every vampire movie I’ve ever seen, every novel I’ve ever read. “I mean—”

“No. That’s just it. Jaxon was born a vampire.”

Now I’m the shocked one. “What do you mean? I thought all vampires…”

“Not all, no. Vampires can be made—in fact, most of them are. But they can also be born. Jaxon was born, as were the other members of the Order. And that means…a lot in our world.”

I can’t even begin to imagine what it means, because I’m still stuck on his vampires can be born revelation. “But how? I mean, I thought you had to be bitten to become a vampire?”

“Usually, yes. But that’s assuming they want to turn you. If they don’t, you just get a bite. Like…”

“Like what Marise did to me, you mean.”

“Yes.” He nods.

“That still doesn’t explain how vampires can be born,” I tell him. Part of me feels like I’m going to drown with all this new information, and part of me is kind of like…huh, okay. No big deal.

I guess after making the leap to accept that all these creatures exist, how they came to exist isn’t nearly as shocking.

“Like other things, vampirism is a genetic mutation. Rare, exceptionally rare, but a genetic mutation nonetheless. The first documented cases happened a few thousand years ago, but since then, many more have happened.”

“Wait a minute. You have documented cases of vampires from thousands of years ago? How is that possible? I mean, how can you prove it?”

“Because they’re still alive, Grace.”

“Oh. Right.” Something else I didn’t see coming, though I probably should have. “Because vampires don’t die.”

“They do die, just much more slowly than the rest of us, because their cells develop differently than ours.”

Of course they do. Otherwise there wouldn’t be so much bloodsucking and who knows what else. “And Jaxon is one of these vampires? One of the old ones?” The thought turns the butterflies into vultures. Which is strange. I mean, I’m totally willing to accept the vampire thing, so why does the old thing totally freak me out?

“Jaxon was born into the most ancient vampire family. But no, he’s not four thousand years old, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Oh, thank God. “So these families are the only ones who can give birth to vampires? I mean, vampires can’t just be born from anyone, right?”

“It’s a genetic mutation, so yes, vampires can be born to anyone. Usually, they aren’t. Usually, born vampires come from one of the six ancient families, but other born vampires do happen. They’re usually the ones you read about in stories, because they don’t have any knowledge of who or what they are, so they…”

“Run rampant killing everyone in sight?”

“I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” he tells me with an exasperated look. “But yes. They are the ones who tend to make other vampires, because they don’t know any better. Or because they’re lonely and want to create a family. Or for several other reasons, as well. The older families aren’t like that, though.”

“What does that mean? They don’t kill people?” I have to admit that’s a huge relief.

At least until my uncle laughs and says, “Let’s not get carried away.”

“Oh, well, then. Jaxon has…”

“I’m not in the habit of talking about students with other students, Grace. And this conversation has gone far afield from where I intended it to go.”

True, but I’ve learned a lot, so I’m more than okay with where the conversation has gone. Though the laugh that accompanied his let’s not get carried away line was more than a little chilling. “I don’t want to go back to San Diego, Uncle Finn.”

It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. The first time I’ve really even thought it and believed it. But as the words come out of my mouth, I know they’re true. No matter how much I miss the beach and the warmth and the life I used to have with my parents, going back there isn’t what I want. My parents are gone forever, and nothing else that San Diego has holds as much appeal as Jaxon.

Nothing.

“Grace, I’m glad you like it at Katmere Academy. I am. But I don’t know if it’s safe. I thought I could protect you here, but obviously being a regular person in a school meant for paranormals is dangerous.”

Considering my week, that seems like an understatement. But still… “Isn’t it my decision to make?”

“It is. But you can’t make it over a boy.”

“I’m not making it because of Jaxon. Or at least, not just because of Jaxon.” This, too, is true. “I’m making it because of Macy. And you. And even Flint. I’m making it because I miss San Diego and my life there, but that life is over. My parents are dead, and if I stay there, if I go back to the same school and the same life I had—minus them—it’s going to be a slap in the face. A reminder, every day, of what I lost.

“And I don’t think I can do that, Uncle Finn. I don’t think I can heal there, driving by my old house on the way to school every day. Going to all the places my parents and I used to go—” My voice breaks, and I look away, embarrassed by the tears in my eyes. Embarrassed by how weak I feel every time I think about my mom and dad.

“Okay.” This time, when he reaches across the desk, he takes both my hands in his. “Okay, Grace. If that’s how you feel, you know you can stay. You’re always welcome wherever Macy and I are. But we have to do something about all these near misses, because I am not okay with something happening to you on my watch. The day you were born, I promised your father I’d take care of you if anything ever happened to him, and I am not about to let him down.”

“That sounds perfect, because, honestly, I’m not a big fan of all the near misses, either.”

He laughs. “I bet. So what—?”

He’s interrupted by the buzzing of the intercom on his desk. “Headmaster Foster, your nine o’clock call is on line three.”

“Oh, right. Thanks, Gladys.” He looks at me. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to take this. Why don’t you head back to your room and relax for the rest of the day? I’ll think about how we’re going to keep you safe and come by around lunchtime to talk to you and Macy about it. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.” I scoop my backpack off the ground and head for the door. Once I’ve got it open, though, I turn back to my uncle. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t come up with any ideas.”

“No, I mean, thank you for coming to San Diego to get me. Thank you for taking me in. Thank you for—”

“Being your family?” He shakes his head. “You never have to thank me for that, Grace. I love you. Macy loves you. And you’ll have a place with us for as long as you want it. Okay?”

I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “Okay.” Then I book it out the door before I turn into a blubbering mess for the second time in as many days.

But I’ve barely closed the door and made it three steps down the hall before the floor beneath my feet starts to shake. Again.

45

I Always Knew

There Was Fire Between Us;

I Just Didn’t Realize it

Was Your Breath

This one isn’t bad—the ground just rumbles a little. But it’s enough to make me nervous. More than enough to have me sheltering in the nearest doorway, like they taught us in elementary school. No way am I interested in any more injuries…or any more close calls, for that matter.