The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner (7 page)

I waited for Kristie and three of her usual companions to head out, and I slipped out in their wake, trying to look like part
of the entourage without irritating them. I didn’t look at Raoul, I didn’t look at Diego. I concentrated on seeming inconsequential—no
one to notice. Just some random vampire chick.

Once we were out of the house, I split off from Kristie immediately and beat it into the woods. I hoped only Diego would care
enough to follow my scent. Halfway up the side of the nearest mountain, I made
my perch in the top branches of a big spruce that cleared its neighbors by several meters. I had a pretty good view of anyone
who might try to track me.

Turns out I was being overcautious. Maybe I’d been too cautious all day. Diego was the only one to come looking. I saw him
from a distance and backtracked to meet him.

“Long day,” he said, giving me a hug. “Your plan is hard.”

I hugged him back, marveling at how comfortable this was. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”

“Sorry about Raoul. That was close.”

I nodded. “Good thing Fred is so disgusting.”

“I wonder if Riley knows how potent that kid is.”

“Doubt it. I’ve never seen him do
that
before, and I spend a lot of time around him.”

“Well, that’s Freaky Fred’s business. We have our own secret to tell Riley.”

I shuddered. “Still not sure that’s a good idea.”

“We won’t know until we see how Riley reacts.”

“I don’t really like not knowing, as a general rule.”

Diego’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “How do you feel about adventure?”

“Depends.”

“Well, I was thinking about club priorities. You know, about finding out as much as we can.”

“And…?”

“I think we should follow Riley. Find out what he’s doing.”

I stared. “But he’ll know we tracked him. He’ll catch our scents.”

“I know. This is how I figure it. I follow his scent. You keep clear by a few hundred yards and follow my sound. Then Riley
only knows I followed him, and I can tell him it’s because I had something important to share. That’s when I do the big reveal
with the disco ball effect. And I’ll see what he says.” His eyes narrowed as he examined me. “But you… you just play it close
to the chest for now, okay? I’ll tell you if he’s cool about it.”

“What if he comes back early from wherever he’s going? Don’t you want it to be close to dawn so you can glitter?”

“Yes… that’s definitely a possible problem. And it might affect the way the conversation goes. But I think we should risk
it. He seemed like he was in a hurry tonight, didn’t he? Like maybe he needs all night for whatever he’s doing?”

“Maybe. Or maybe he was just in a big hurry to see
her
. You know, we might not want to surprise him if she’s nearby.” We both winced.

“True. Still…” He frowned. “Doesn’t it feel like whatever’s coming is getting close? Like we might not have forever to figure
this out?”

I nodded unhappily. “Yeah, it does.”

“So let’s take our chances. Riley trusts me, and I have a good reason for wanting to talk to him.”

I thought about this strategy. Though I’d only known him for a day, really, I was still aware that this level of paranoia
was out of character for Diego.

“This elaborate plan of yours…,” I said.

“What about it?” he asked.

“It sounds kind of like a solo plan. Not so much a club adventure. At least, not when it comes to the dangerous part.”

He made a face that told me I’d caught him.

“This is my idea. I’m the one who…” He hesitated, having trouble with the next word. “… trusts Riley. I’m the only one who’s
going to risk getting on his bad side if I’m wrong.”

Chicken as I was, this didn’t fly with me. “Clubs don’t work that way.”

He nodded, his expression unclear. “Okay, we’ll think about it as we go.”

I didn’t think he really meant it.

“Stay in the trees, track me from above, ’kay?” he said.

“Okay.”

He headed back toward the log cabin, moving fast. I followed through the branches, most of them so close-packed that I only
rarely had to really leap
from one tree to another. I kept my movements as small as possible, hoping that the bending of the boughs under my weight
would just look like wind. It was a breezy night, which would help. It was cold for summer, not that the temperature bothered
me.

Diego caught Riley’s scent outside the house without trouble and then loped after it quickly while I trailed several yards
back and about a hundred yards north, higher on the slope than he was. When the trees were really thick, he’d rustle a trunk
now and again so I wouldn’t lose him.

We kept on, with him running and me impersonating a flying squirrel, for only fifteen minutes or so before I saw Diego slow
down. We must have been getting close. I moved higher in the branches, looking for a tree with a good view. I scaled one that
towered over its neighbors, and scanned the scene.

Less than half a mile away was a large gap in the trees, an open field that covered several acres. Near the center of the
space, closer to the trees on its east side, was what looked like an oversized gingerbread house. Painted bright pink, green,
and white, it was elaborate to the point of ridiculousness, with fancy trim and finials on every conceivable edge. It was
the kind of thing I would have laughed at in a more relaxed situation.

Riley was nowhere in sight, but Diego had come to a complete stop below, so I assumed this was the end point of our pursuit.
Maybe this was the replacement house Riley was preparing for when the big log cabin crumbled. Except that it was smaller than
any of the other houses we’d stayed in, and it didn’t look like it had a basement. And it was even farther away from Seattle
than the last one.

Diego looked up at me, and I signaled for him to join me. He nodded and retraced his trail a little ways. Then he made an
enormous leap—I wondered if I could have jumped that high, even as young and strong as I was—and caught a branch about halfway
up the closest tree. Unless someone was being extraordinarily vigilant, no one ever would have noticed that Diego’d made a
side trip off his path. Even still, he jumped around in the treetops, making sure his trail did not lead directly to mine.

When he finally decided it was safe to join me, he took my hand right away. Silently, I nodded toward the gingerbread house.
One corner of his mouth twitched.

Simultaneously we started edging toward the east side of the house, keeping high up in the trees. We got as close as we dared—leaving
a few trees as
cover between the house and ourselves—and then sat silently, listening.

The breeze turned helpfully gentle, and we could hear something. Strange little brushing, ticking sounds. At first I didn’t
recognize what I was hearing, but then Diego twitched another little smile, puckered his lips, and silently kissed the air
in my direction.

Kissing didn’t sound the same with vampires as it did with humans. No soft, fleshy, liquid-filled cells to squish against
each other. Just stone lips, no give. I had heard one kiss between vampires before—Diego’s touch to my lips last night—but
I never would have made the connection. It was so far from what I’d expected to find here.

This knowledge spun everything around in my head. I had assumed Riley was going to see
her
, whether to receive instructions or bring her new recruits, I didn’t know. But I had never imagined stumbling across some
kind of… love nest. How could Riley kiss
her
? I shuddered and glanced at Diego. He looked faintly horrified, too, but he shrugged.

I thought back to that last night of humanity, flinching as I remembered the vivid burning. I tried to recall the moments
just before that, through all the fuzziness…. First there was the creeping fear that had built as Riley pulled up to the dark
house, the
feeling of safety I’d had in the bright burger joint dissolving entirely. I was holding back, edging away, and then he’d
grabbed my arm with a steel grip and yanked me out of the car like I was a doll, weightless. Terror and disbelief as he’d
leaped the ten yards to the door. Terror and then pain leaving no room for disbelief as he broke my arm dragging me through
the door into the black house. And then the voice.

As I focused on the memory, I could hear it again. High and singsong, like a little girl’s, but grouchy. A child throwing
a tantrum.

I remembered what she’d said. “Why did you even bring this one? It’s too small.” Something close to that, I thought. The words
might not be exactly right, but that was the meaning.

I was sure Riley had sounded eager to please when he answered, afraid of disappointing. “But she’s another body. Another distraction,
at least.”

I think I’d whimpered then, and he’d shaken me painfully, but he hadn’t spoken to me again. It was like I was a dog, not a
person.

“This whole night has been a waste,” the child’s voice had complained. “I’ve killed them all. Ugh!”

I remembered that the house had shuddered then, as if a car had collided with the frame. I realized now that she’d probably
just kicked something in frustration.

“Fine. I guess even a little one is better than nothing, if this is the best you can do. And I’m so full now I should be able
to stop.”

Riley’s hard fingers had disappeared then and left me alone with the voice. I’d been too panicked at that point to make a
sound. I’d just closed my eyes, though I was already totally blind in the darkness. I didn’t scream until something cut into
my neck, burning like a blade coated in acid.

I cringed back from the memory, trying to push the next part from my mind. Instead I concentrated on that short conversation.
She hadn’t sounded like she was talking to her lover or even her friend. More like she was talking to an employee. One she
didn’t like much and might fire soon.

But the strange vampire kissing sounds continued. Someone sighed in contentment.

I frowned at Diego. This exchange didn’t tell us much. How long did we need to stay?

He just held his head on the side, listening carefully.

And after a few more minutes of patience, the low, romantic sounds were suddenly interrupted.

“How many?”

The voice was muted by distance, but still distinct. And recognizable. High, almost a trill. Like a spoiled young girl.

“Twenty-two,” Riley answered, sounding proud. Diego and I exchanged a sharp glance. There were twenty-two of us, at last count,
anyway. They must be talking about us.

“I thought I’d lost two more to the sun, but one of my older kids is… obedient,” Riley continued. There was almost an affectionate
sound to his voice when he spoke of Diego as one of his
kids
. “He has an underground place—he hid himself with the younger one.”

“Are you sure?”

There was a long pause, this time with no sounds of romance. Even from this distance, I thought I could feel some tension.

“Yeah. He’s a good kid, I’m sure.”

Another strained pause. I didn’t understand her question. What did she mean,
are you sure
? Did she think he’d heard the story from someone else rather than seeing Diego for himself?

“Twenty-two is good,” she mused, and the tension seemed to dissolve. “How is their behavior developing? Some of them are almost
a year old. Do they still follow the normal patterns?”

“Yes,” Riley said. “Everything you told me to do worked flawlessly. They don’t think—they just do what they’ve always done.
I can always distract them with thirst. It keeps them under control.”

I frowned at Diego. Riley didn’t want us to think. Why?

“You’ve done so well,” our creator cooed, and there was another kiss. “Twenty-two!”

“Is it time?” Riley asked eagerly.

Her answer came back fast, like a slap. “No! I haven’t decided when.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. It’s enough for you to know that our enemies have great powers. We cannot be too careful.” Her voice softened,
turned sugary again. “But all twenty-two still alive. Even with what
they
are capable of… what good will it be against twenty-two?” She let out a tinkling little laugh.

Diego and I had not looked away from each other throughout all this, and I could see in his eyes now that his thoughts were
the same as mine. Yes, we’d been created for a purpose, as we’d guessed. We had an enemy. Or, our creator had an enemy. Did
the distinction matter?

“Decisions, decisions,” she muttered. “Not yet. Maybe one more handful, just to be sure.”

“Adding more might actually decrease our numbers,” Riley cautioned hesitantly, as if being careful not to upset her. “It’s
always unstable when a new group is introduced.”

“True,” she agreed, and I imagined Riley sighing in relief that she was not upset.

Abruptly Diego looked away from me, staring out across the meadow. I hadn’t heard any movement from the house, but maybe she
had come out. My head whipped around at the same time the rest of me turned to a statue, and I saw what had startled Diego.

Four figures were crossing the open field to the house. They had entered the clearing from the west, the point farthest from
where we hid. They all wore long, dark cloaks with deep hoods, so at first I thought they were people. Weird people, but just
humans all the same, because none of the vampires I knew had matching Goth clothes. And none moved in a way that was so smooth
and controlled and… elegant. But then I realized that none of the humans I’d ever seen could move that way, either, and what’s
more, they couldn’t do it so quietly. The dark-cloaks skimmed across the long grass in absolute silence. So either these were
vampires, or they were something else supernatural. Ghosts, maybe. But if they were vampires, they were vampires I didn’t
know, and that meant they might very well be these enemies she was talking about. If so, we should get the hell out of Dodge
right
now
, because we didn’t have twenty other vampires on our side at the moment.

I almost took off then, but I was too afraid to draw the attention of the cloaked figures.