Falling to Ash (26 page)

I wriggled until I was pointing the same way as him. My face was inches from his and I could feel my eyes glowing like twin full moons in the darkness.

‘You might want to turn the light down a bit, you know?’ Jace’s voice was mock-serious, but I could see he was making a sensible point by the way my shining eyes cast reflections in his.

‘I can’t help it,’ I said, my voice laced with defensiveness born of habit. ‘They do that sometimes when I get stressed.’

A strange expression crossed his face. ‘Are you stressed, then?’

I frowned. ‘Sure. Your dad’s out there acting like he’s in the middle of a warzone.’

‘That’s not my dad.’

‘How can you say that? Of course it is. Who else would be out here shooting at everything in sight?’

‘He didn’t give me a signal,’ Jace whispered, shaking his head. Stubborn. ‘Maybe it’s the “Spook Squad” – that’s possible, right?’

‘I guess . . .’ Yeah, like I was really convinced. Let Jace live in denial if he wanted to. Some of us had to deal with reality.

He seemed about to reply but then closed his mouth, gesturing for me to be quiet. Whoever had been shooting was approaching the still-twitching body in the clearing.

I hadn’t even noticed the footsteps. In the cool quiet of this little capsule with Jace, I’d allowed myself to forget the danger – just for a moment. But a moment was all it might take for something
else
crazy to start happening.

‘What—’ I whispered, but had to stop when Jace put two gentle fingers against my lips. His skin smelled of dust and dried blood, an earthy combination mixed in with his natural human scent.

‘I think he’s going,’ he mouthed.

I listened and could easily make out slowly retreating footsteps, accompanied by a heavy dragging sound that seemed ominous. Was what remained of Byron being dragged away? Was he dead –
really
dead – or simply injured?

Whatever he’d done since his transformation, it wasn’t the kid’s fault and I felt fear rise up in my gut. Where was the body being taken? I had sudden visions of a lab and horrifying experiments. Maybe Jace was right. Maybe a squad from the Office of Preternatural Investigations really
was
out there. I let my imagination
run
riot for a few moments, not liking what I saw in my overactive mind’s eye.

‘We can’t let him be taken, not like this,’ I hissed.

I could hardly make out Jace’s features in the gloom, but there was no mistaking the eyebrow-raise and the accompanying glint of silver from his piercing. ‘He’s dead anyway, Moth.’

‘So am I,’ I whispered. I’d meant it to sound more forceful, but somehow it came off sounding sort of pathetic.

‘No you’re not,’ Jace replied. ‘Not like that. You’re just about the most alive person I know.’ And then he did the last thing I would ever have expected from him: he kissed me.

His lips were gentle but insistent – at least, to begin with. The sensation sent a flutter of many-winged butterflies into crazy flight around my stomach. I pressed myself against his warmth, not caring that we were beneath a van in the middle of a graveyard, with who knows
what
out there. I had enough presence of mind to hope he didn’t cut himself on my fangs, but it didn’t stop me kissing him back. I kissed him as though my life depended on it – which maybe it did. In a weird sort of way.

I wanted to feel alive. I wanted to feel
human
.

He crawled on top of me, pushing me against the ground with the full length of his body. Heat radiated
from
him and I could feel every muscle, every movement. My head spun and I felt dizzy, even lying down, as instinct took over and I wrapped my legs around him. I’d only ever been with Theo before, and he had felt cold – any warmth hadn’t been real. It was all illusion, after feeding, and his big mistake had been not feeding enough before taking me to his house that night.

But Jace was warm and alive, really alive. Not only could I hear his heart beating, I could feel the steady flow of blood pumping through his veins.

I pressed my face to his neck and took a deep breath. He smelled so good. He would taste even better—

His whole body went rigid. Oops. I probably shouldn’t have done the sniffing thing.

Jace looked down at me. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Um . . . sorry?’

‘Jesus.’ He was still lying on top of me, but he held most of his weight on his arms. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath that was warm against my face. ‘What am
I
doing?’

I didn’t know whether I should feel upset or angry. I wanted to be angry – that was easier. But as I looked into his now open eyes, it was too easy to lose myself in those velvet-brown depths. Here was a guy who had suffered loss and pain; someone who knew what it was to survive in a terrifying world, and yet who still managed to hold
onto
his humanity. Just about. It was difficult to hate someone like that, even when he was rejecting me.

‘If you hate what I am so much, why did you even kiss me?’ I wondered if he could hear the breathless hitch in my voice.

He just stared at me, looking so lost that I wanted to hold him despite my anger.

‘Jace?’

He ignored me and rolled over. He poked his head out from under the van. ‘Hey, I think they’ve gone.’

The butterflies in my stomach turned into black-winged bats.
Crap
.

‘You only kissed me to give him a chance to get away, didn’t you?’ I didn’t care that my voice had suddenly risen well above the acceptable volume for ‘covert operations’.

Screw covert operations.

‘Stop saying dumb shit like that,’ he replied, but his tone sounded way too defensive. I could practically smell the lie on him.

Humiliation replaced all the other feelings I’d experienced only moments before. ‘You’re such an asshole. I knew it! That’s your dad out there, isn’t it?’

I pulled myself forward and prepared to crawl out from under the big hulk of metal that was beginning to feel disturbingly like a coffin.

Jace gripped the top of my arm and pulled me back.
He
wasn’t gentle anymore. ‘Stay here, I’ll check things out.’

‘I will
not
stay here. I’m going to find out what happened to Byron. And I want to know who was shooting at us.’

Jace sounded tired; way too old to be nineteen. ‘He wasn’t shooting at
us
.’

‘Who was it, Jace?’ Like I didn’t already know. I just wanted to hear him say it. ‘You’d better tell me or—’

‘Or what, girlie?’ The voice was gruff and deep and dangerous.

Murdoch
. I shivered.

Jace slowly lowered his head to the ground and let go of the death-grip he had on my arm. I had almost lost the feeling there because he’d been holding on so tightly.

‘I think you two can come out of there now,’ Thomas Murdoch continued. ‘Coast is clear.’

Jace lifted his face but refused to look at me.

‘You knew it was him all along, didn’t you?’ I demanded as betrayal curled in my chest, making me feel as though I might choke.

‘What do
you
think? I was trying to protect you, OK?’ He glared at me before sliding out from beneath the van. ‘Stay close to me and try to keep your mouth shut for once.’

Chapter Twenty-one

JACE HAD BEEN
quiet since we had crawled out from beneath the van, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground and doing everything he could to avoid looking at me.

I swallowed. This wasn’t good. It was very far from good, especially as there didn’t appear to be any sign of the authorities riding to the rescue. And even worse, Byron had disappeared. I couldn’t help morbidly speculating about what had happened to his remains.

The cold expression on Murdoch Senior’s face made me suddenly hope that whatever was left of the kid was well and truly dead.

I thought about how Jace had kissed me underneath the van. He’d been so tender; surely he couldn’t have faked it.
But then again
, said that treacherous inner voice,
it was only to stop you noticing what was happening
. Jace
must’ve
known his father was out there and wanted to avoid the situation we were in now.

But that didn’t mean it hadn’t been real. Did it?

Murdoch spat on the ground, close to my feet. ‘I told you what would happen if I saw you again, girl.’ He was still holding a powerful-looking gun.

‘It’s not my fault you’ve been following me.’

His laugh sent shivers down my spine – and not the good kind. ‘Following my son, freak. Keeping an eye on him, ever since you got your claws into him.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Oh, please. I’m hardly a femme fatale. Jace has a mind of his own.’

‘Not if you’re compelling him against his will, he doesn’t,’ the hunter replied.

Jace stepped forward. ‘Hey, I’m right here. Stop talking about me like I’m not.’

I shook my head. I didn’t have the energy for this. I had far better things to do than play referee between these two screw-ups. ‘I’m out of here.’

Jace grabbed my arm. ‘You’re staying right here.’

‘Get your hands off me. I think I’ll leave you and your father to . . . catch up.’ I shook myself free and was relieved when he let go; I didn’t want to have to use my strength against him.

I turned my back on Thomas and Jace Murdoch. I had only managed a couple of steps when Murdoch Senior called after me.

‘Hey, Dead Girl! Where d’you think you’re going?’

‘Dad—’

‘Shut up, Jason. Dead Girl, I’m talking to you!’

My shoulders tensed and the longing to smash Jace’s dad in the face was so strong, so
visceral
I could taste it as surely as I’d tasted Theo’s blood just two nights before. I rolled the desire around my tongue as I slowly turned and faced the older man.

‘Where’s Byron?’ I demanded. My silver eyes swept over Thomas Murdoch, as though I could divine the answer simply by looking at him. If he would just stop avoiding my gaze I might even be able to do it. My experience with Detective Trent had given me new confidence in my skills.

Murdoch ignored me and turned back to continue an argument with his son.

Jace’s hands were held in loose fists at his sides. ‘How did you even find us here? Have you been following me?’ He frowned.

‘Grow up and think, boy,’ growled Murdoch. ‘The van has GPS; when I got home it was gone so I tracked it.’

Scowling, I stomped back toward them. I didn’t care about interrupting their oh-so-touching father–son reunion. Let’s see the big bad vampire hunter try to leave without telling me what he’d done to the kid.

Murdoch flashed me a nasty look. ‘Come any closer,
little
Dead Girl, and I’ll stake you before you even know what day it is.’

‘You talk a good fight, Murdoch,’ I said, working hard at keeping my tone even. ‘Let’s see you back it up when you’re not hiding behind a gun.’

‘Dad—’

This time it was me who interrupted Jace. ‘Shut up. This is between me and him. If you want to protect your father from me, I guess I can’t blame you.’

Jace’s father squared his shoulders. ‘Frankenstein’s monster is gone, you don’t have to worry about him anymore. I’ve got plans for a nice bonfire later on, so you’d better walk away now unless you want to join him.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I want to know what happened to him. You shot him full of enough silver to do a lot of damage to most vampires. I’m guessing that’s the same for . . . whatever he’s become.’

Murdoch wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘
Revenant
. I think that’s the word you’re looking for. That friend of yours turned into a zombie after one of your kind tried to turn him – and failed.’ He glared at me as though I was personally responsible.

I swallowed, trying to get rid of the bad taste in my mouth. This guy was a total freak – forget vamps or the Unmade. Men like Thomas Murdoch were the reason the supernatural community stayed underground and, if they had any sense, wouldn’t even dream of coming out
of
the coffin any time soon. At least, not for another century or two.

I ignored him. ‘Let me see his body – we heard you moving him. I just want to make sure.’

‘OK,’ he said, a nasty grin flashing across his face. ‘He’s over there, on the edge of the clearing. Follow me.’

This was a sudden change of heart that I wasn’t exactly buying, but I needed to make certain that Byron was actually dead.
Really
dead. For his sake as much as for the safety of local residents, because nobody deserved to be left to the sick whims of a stone-cold hunter like Murdoch.

Jace stepped in front of me. ‘Leave it, Moth. Get out of here and I’ll catch up with you later.’

His father sneered. ‘Jesus Christ, son. You’re breaking my heart here.’

‘Dad . . . shut up for a second, will you?’

I couldn’t help raising my eyebrows. Score one for Jace standing up to Daddy. Finally.

‘I told you already not to speak to me that way. I think we need to talk about what they did to you at that goddamn school. Those places are filled with bleeding-heart liberals – makes me sick.’