“The Sanguine. They’re the the ruling council for the Rose Throne. It’s where they’ll approve me to begin my own line. I’ll be able to have my own House, under the auspices of the Rose Throne.”

“Anna—“I looked up to explain to her all the reasons why I couldn’t attend her vampire party, first and foremost being I didn’t want to be the only hors d’oeuvre in attendance. Then I saw the look on her face. “Oh, God. This is important, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so.” She pointed at what was left in the box.

I set the letter aside and reached in, finding a black velvet bag. I picked it up and a heavy object slid out.

It looked like a hunting knife. Its falling hilt made the box thump into my lap. The blade equaled the handle’s size, and it was as ornate as the letter’s calligraphy, with waves and flourishes curlicuing out, rendering it mostly useless, except for what I was sure was a very sharp tip. I picked it up gingerly. “This is one expensive party favor.”

There was a real hourglass embedded in the hilt, but instead of being filled with sand, it was filled with blood. I tapped it, and it spun end-over-end, red fluid sloshing from side to side, to fill the lower chamber once the spinning stopped. The top chamber was still stained with blood, like a shaken test tube at County’s lab. “Is this your blood?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. She nodded. “I don’t want to be a daytimer, Anna.”

The man in my kitchen gave a derisive snort.

“That’s why I’ve chosen you. Because I am part human, I have to bring a human to the ceremony with me. Not one I coerced—one I chose.” She reached over to press the knife down so I would look at her. “This knife has to stay intact until my ceremony. The temptation of my blood is a test. And you’re the only one I know who will pass it.”

My gaze went back to Gideon. If he were given a vial of Anna’s blood and she left the room, I wouldn’t bet on him managing to count to thirty before drinking its contents to acquire its power. I knew from taking care of daytimers at the hospital that all of their motives were nefarious by default. “What else does this entail?”

“Technically, when this is done you’ll belong to my court, as my Ambassador to the Sun.”

“I don’t suppose it pays?”

She snorted. “It’s only a ceremonial position, and only for one night.” She looked at me, her eyes softening. “I wouldn’t ask you if I had anyone else I could ask.”

I wondered how that made Gideon feel. I put the knife back into its bag very carefully, the bag into the box, and stared at its velvety softness. The man in my kitchen made a frustrated sound. He was hungry like all daytimers were hungry, for the power that their masters contained. Dogs on a leash, one and all.

“I know how you all fund yourselves. I won’t be a part of it.” Gambling, drugs, protection money—everything illicit trickled down into vampire pockets eventually. They were fat ticks on the neck of humanity. Anna’s seeming goodness aside, I couldn’t endorse that. I tried to hand the open box back to her, and she put up one hand to refuse it.

“Edie—you’re the only human I trust.” We’d both almost been killed recently, for the same end, by the same people. She’d rescued me then. It’d been more complicated than that, but—I looked from her to the box I held as she waited for me to decide. I wondered if she was holding her breath—if she even needed to breathe. She looked worried. Scared, even.

I couldn’t say no. Not even if I ought to. I set the box down on my own lap. “Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise you.” She smiled at me, then stood and straightened her skirt, bending down to retrieve her hair ribbon from the ground. Minnie’s disembodied paw swatted out after it from her hiding spot beneath the couch. Gideon rounded my bar, crowding us in my small living room.

“Do I need to do anything in the meantime?”

Anna shook her head. “I’ll send my driver for you at eleven that night. I’ll be in seclusion until then. Call Sike if you need anything.” Anna reached out and grabbed my hand. Her skin was soft and cool as she squeezed it. “Thank you, Edie.”

“You’re welcome.” I squeezed her hand back. Gideon wove through us to open up the door. They left, and Grandfather muttered something I was sure was unkind.

I’d just pledged my help to a teenage-looking but hundred-year-old vampire whom I knew had a temper and a half. There was no way this could end badly, right?

CHAPTER SIX

The next morning I woke up at eight. I got up, peed, brushed my teeth, and took an Ambien, because I had to work that night. I didn’t like drugging myself to flip my sleep schedule back and forth, but it was better than being bleary all night. Or lying in bed, trying to sleep, and not managing to get any. My bed was warm, Minnie was nearby, and I already had food in the fridge for dinner and late dinner.

It was Christmas Eve day, not that you would know from looking at my house. It wasn’t that I didn’t celebrate holidays—although when you’re working most of them, it’s hard to get into a celebratory mood—I’d just been busy recently. There was a small fake tree at the top of my closet that I could have pulled out—but I’d missed my window right after Thanksgiving, and I’d been busy every day since then, mostly just trying to survive.

As I lay there, I could feel the sleep I’d just woke up from coming back for me. It was like the Ambien was lifting up the sheep-gate. Then my phone rang. I fumbled for it in the dark. “Hello?”

“Edie!”

Only my mother could sound that happy to talk to me. “Hey Momma.”

“We’ve had a change of plans.”

“Uh-huh.” I nuzzled my head back into the pillow.

“I know you’ve had a bit of a rough time recently, so instead of you driving all the way out here on Christmas Day, Peter and I are going to drive in to your place.”

I blinked into my mattress, then bit the inside of my lip to rouse myself. “What?”

“We’re having Christmas in town. It’ll make life so much easier for you.”

“No, it won’t. I’m working tonight, Mom. I was going to drive out to your place after my shift—”

“But see, this way you only have to come home—”

“And cook, and—” I rolled over in bed, now fighting to stay alert. “Mom, I don’t even have a table.”

“Jake told me about that. Said the glass on the old one had broken.”

“Oh really?” I asked archly. What’d happened was that my heroin-addict brother had pawned it for cash to get high—but even in my slightly drugged state, I had the wisdom to keep that to myself.

“So we’ll bring the card table in. There’s only the four of us. We’ll bring in everything we need. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Except for my mother and stepdad and junkie brother visiting my house, which had a ghost-possessed CD player and was a way stop for visiting vampires.

“Mom, really, it’s easier—”

“Tell her we’ll be there at eleven,” I heard a male voice shout from the background.

“We’ll be there at eleven A.M. I think that way we’ll miss the traffic,” my mother passed along.

“Mom, I not even going to remember this conversation when I get up.”

“Then write it down, dear. Love you!” she said, and then hung up before I could protest further.

I stayed conscious and disappointedly aware of my situation for another crucial alarm-setting thirty seconds. Then I drifted back to sleep.

* * *

When my alarm went off at five P.M., I had a few confused moments. Usually I set my alarm for six or seven. What time had I gone to bed the night before? I remembered Anna visiting, vaguely, and I could see the knife’s dark box on my dresser like a pirate’s treasure chest.

But there’d been something else. Something urgent.

“Oh, no.”

Christmas.

I didn’t care how trivial Mom pretended it would be. There was no way I would get off that easy.

I lurched upright in bed, shoving Minnie off the edge with my foot. “If I’m up, you’re up, cat.” I was still clean from the previous night’s shower. I had work tonight—but before going there, I had other work to do.

First thing, I cleaned my bathroom. I wasn’t usually very messy, but it’d been a long time since I’d cleaned like I cared. Second up—the bedroom. You could see right into it. And here, I had been lax. Clothing was strewn across my floor—the only clothes in the hamper were things that desperately needed to be cleaned. Like, say, my werewolf blood–stained coat from the day before. Fuck.

I pulled my clothing bag out of my hamper, shoved everything on the floor into it, grabbed the trash bag with my coat, and braced myself for an extreme investment of quarters as I lugged everything down to the laundry mat down the hall.

Returning, I went through the kitchen first. It wasn’t like I had much to do in the fridge—I could organize approximately one package each of turkey slices and grape jelly just fine. I set a kettle to brewing for tea, so at least I’d have something to offer guests, and cleaned the inside of an old pitcher.

Last but not least, was my living room. Once upon a time I’d had a dining room set, which’d been nice. But the set was gone now, when the couch ought to be.

I inspected the bloodstained side of my couch, a souvenir of the time Anna had spent here. I’d tried to clean things up with hydrogen peroxide, but that’d ruined the ornamental floral pattern something fierce. So I’d turned the cushions over, but there was still a stain on part of the side, and a bleached spot to boot. Neither stain was blatant, but my mother had a way of seeing through things—with the exception of my brother, Jake. I knew I couldn’t come up with a good-enough lie on the spot.