Both of Ben’s eyebrows went up. “Gold?”
“Gold.” Chloe cleared her throat. “I didn’t send that part. International postage is a bitch.”
“Right.” Ben tapped his fingers on his knee. Did the woman in Kashgar have anything to do with Radu? She could have been Eastern European. And if he’d sent roughly a hundred grand of gold with a letter and been kept waiting for an answer for as long as Radu had, he might want the recipient to “answer their fucking mail” too.
“Okay,” he said. “Radu first. Where’s his letter in the pile?”
“I went ahead put that one right on top.”
3
It took Ben a week to fly from Penglai to Los Angeles. He was still figuring out how to move efficiently through space, and he couldn’t fly as fast as Zhang or Tai. But even with slower speed, the feeling was exhilarating; moving through the air was effortless. He was cocooned in his element and often he nearly slipped into a trancelike state, especially when he was going long distances.
Moving only at night meant he often had to take the long way around to avoid large bodies of water, but he didn’t mind. Seeing the world from the air was awe inspiring.
As he flew from San Francisco to Los Angeles, he watched the lights below, dipping down to smell the familiar scents of salt water and kelp that were flung into the air with each crashing wave.
It was familiar and it wasn’t. Ben was seeing everything through an immortal lens, and while the night’s darkness was deep to humans, to Ben the reflection of the stars off the moon-pulled water was as bright as an early-morning sunrise. Nothing about the night was dark anymore. In fact, he often craved true darkness, which was much harder to achieve as a vampire.
As he flew south, the lights scattered and dimmed, twinkling sporadically through Central California until he reached Santa Barbara, where they grew brighter and denser.
As Ben approached the LA basin, the lights nearly blinded him. They lay like a thick blanket of stars covering the hills and valleys that made up the sprawling city of angels.
Home.
He spotted the pure white walls of the Getty Center and turned east, following the veins of light where cars sped through the city. He followed the foothill freeway and turned south in Pasadena, searching for a safe place to land.
There.
The familiar parking lot of the Huntington Library and Gardens caught his eye, and he was instantly oriented. There, the research library where his aunt had worked when she was still human. There, the alley of jacarandas that dropped lavender flowers on the asphalt where he’d ridden his bicycle as a boy, roaming the streets of San Marino and dreaming about the lives of the rich people who lived behind the walls and hedges of each compound.
Ben landed silently in the parking lot and walked toward the sprawling mansion a short distance from the library where his aunt and uncle kept their home. He passed the typical wildlife common in Los Angeles—possums hanging from trees; quick, striped skunks darting into bushes; clever cats slinking from one shadow to the next.
It was all familiar, yet nothing was the same.
When he reached the gate of the house, he rose and flew over it, triggering the silent alarm and switching on the video-recording equipment he’d set up after he graduated from high school. He waved at the cameras, then put a finger to his lips.
Shhhh.
Hopefully, whoever was guarding the place knew who he was, but it had been nearly three years since he’d been back in Los Angeles. He’d been gone long enough that security might not recognize him.
He landed in the spacious backyard and spotted the recent addition of a trampoline in the corner near the house. There was a new gate around the swimming area and a bright blue bike leaning against the pool house.
Ben’s heart gave three quick thumps as he sped over the lawn and paused beneath the window of the little girl who’d upended his aunt and uncle’s life in various and delightful ways.
Sadia had been an orphan from the Syrian Civil War when Beatrice and Giovanni adopted her three years before. The first time Ben met Sadia, she’d been a wide-eyed, silent little girl with her thumb in her mouth, clutching a worn blanket. When she looked at him, Ben could feel her judgment and suspicion, and the wounded child inside him recognized it for what it was.
“Do you know who I am?”
She had looked at him with even more suspicion.
“I’m your big brother now. And if anyone ever tries to hurt you, I will hurt them more.”
Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say to a little tiny girl days after she’d come into a brand-new home—Sadia probably didn’t even understand what he was saying—but something in his tone of voice must have gotten through. In that instant, Sadia’s eyes moved from suspicious to accepting; she had crawled into his lap the very next night and fallen asleep on his chest.
In the first difficult months after her adoption, Ben was often the only one who could make her laugh, and he’d done everything possible to keep in touch over video chats while he’d been away. But nothing was like being there when your little sister was five.
Ben tapped on the window, only to feel the cold barrel of a gun pressing against the back of his neck. It was Dema, Sadia’s scary-as-shit nanny.
“I’m surprised you didn’t hear me,” she said.
I smelled you first. He didn’t say that. “I did hear you. I just know how much you love flirting with me like this.” The quip was automatic. “Will you hide the gun before she comes to the window and sees you holding it on me?”
The feel of cold metal disappeared. “You really shouldn’t sneak onto the grounds.”
“You knew it was me.” He looked over his shoulder as he tapped on Sadia’s window again. “Besides, I’m trying to surprise her.”
Dema holstered her weapon and straightened the sleek grey hijab she wore over her hair. “She’s probably sound asleep. It’s three in the morning, you know.”
The curtain flew back, and Sadia’s round little face appeared. She was rubbing her eyes and sporting a halo of messy curls. All Ben could do was smile. It had been weeks since they’d video chatted, and he swore she changed every time he saw her.
She blinked at him. Frowned. Blinked again. “Ben?”
“Surprise.”
Her eyes went wide. “You came home?”
He nodded toward her door. “Put on a jacket and sneak out here.”
Sadia’s eyes lit up. “Come outside?”
“Yeah!”
Dema muttered, “She can’t sneak out of the house. Do you know how many security features this compound has?”
“Since I installed most of them, yes, I do.” He watched Sadia disappear behind her bedroom curtains. “Can you just go in there and help her ‘sneak out’” —he used air quotes— “to see her big brother?”
Dema appeared unmoved.
“Please?”
She shook her head. “Don’t make a habit of this, Mr. Vecchio.”
“Mr. Vecchio?” He watched her retreating figure. “Really?”
A few minutes later, Sadia came racing around the side of the house with a bright yellow sweater flung over her pj’s and ran straight toward him. Ben hesitated for only a fraction of a second.
Was he safe—truly safe—to be around this tiny, precious human?
“Ben!”
A flood of fierce protectiveness filled his mind and sharpened his senses. He noticed the chill in the air, the irregularity of the grass she ran on, and the shoelaces hastily tied. She could trip. She could injure a limb or her spine.
“Sadia, be careful.” He reached down and scooped her up. There. She was safe in his arms.
“I can’t believe you came home!” She was lisping a little through two missing teeth. “Do Baba and Mama know?”
Ben had no doubt that Giovanni and Beatrice were already aware he was on the grounds. They would have been informed by whoever was watching the cameras.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” he said.
“I wanted to see you first.”
“Really?” Her smile was incandescent. “Look! Did you see my tooth?” She pointed to the gap where her two bottom front teeth had been. “I lost two now, but Carina says they’ll grow back.”
“I remember. You showed me when we talked on the computer, remember?”
“Oh right.” She wiggled down. “Want to see my bike?”
“Yes.” Ben followed her to the bright blue bike on the patio.
“Right now it has extra wheels, but when I’m bigger, Baba can take them off and then I’ll be able to go really fast.” She looked over her shoulder. “Want to see?”
“Definitely.” Ben crouched down and watched her take off on the little bike.
“See how fast I can go!” She was panting. “And I can go even faster in the front when Zain moves all the cars.”
“Be careful, okay?”
“I will!”
Ben watched her pedal three large circles on the patio before she climbed off. He saw curtains twitching on the second floor and knew Giovanni and Beatrice had spotted them, but thankfully they held back from coming down to the garden.
“Want to see my trampoline?” She bounced on her toes. “We just got it, but I’m already really good.”
Ben picked her up. He knew she didn’t need to be held, but he couldn’t help himself. She was so delicate but so full of life. His emotions were all over the place. He was happy. Ecstatic. He was sad he’d missed so many years. He wanted Tenzin to be there. He hated that he would never see Sadia in the sunlight again.
“I saw your trampoline.” He swallowed his emotions and focused on her. “Do you know any tricks?” They walked toward the far corner of the garden where a blue-and-red trampoline rose in the shadows of oak trees. A large net surrounded it, presumably to catch any errant bounces.
“I know tricks like jumping really high and doing the splits—”
“Really?
“Kinda doing the splits. And… mmm… spinning in the air.” She held her fingers straight up and twisted them. “Like I kind of jump… and then I spin.”
“That’s amazing.”
She absently tapped his cheek. “Baba said you can fly now.”
He stopped in his tracks and forced himself to look at Sadia. “Uh… yeah. I can.”
Her eyes were wide but unafraid. “Can I see your teeth?”
Ben had avoided the request when she made it over video chat, but he couldn’t avoid it forever. Something about showing his fangs to Sadia made being a vampire even more real. That was who he would be from then on. A vampire to the world and to the smallest and most vulnerable member of his family.
“Do you really want to see them?” His voice was quiet.
She nodded forcefully. “Yes.”
“You’re not afraid?”
Sadia frowned like he’d spoken an unknown language. “Why?”
“Right.”
Why would Sadia be afraid? Her father and mother were vampires. Her aunts and uncles were vampires. She’d been surrounded by them for years. Ben took a breath and opened his mouth. Just thinking about the scent of blood was enough to make his fangs lengthen.
Sadia stared and stared. In the end, she looked a little unimpressed.
“What?”
She sighed. “You don’t have curvy fangs like Tenzin. Just the same ones like Baba and Mama.”
Even the mention of her name after two years felt like a spike driving into his chest. Ben swept the net back and placed Sadia on the trampoline. “Sorry. They’re just normal fangs.”
“That’s okay. They’re nice anyway.” Sadia began bouncing. “Where’s Tenzin?”
Sadia loved Tenzin, and she mentioned her at least once a call. Though he hadn’t seen or talked to his former partner in over two years, Sadia still linked the two of them in her mind, probably because Tenzin and Ben had been together when she was young.
Needless to say, he wasn’t surprised she was asking about her.
“I don’t know where she is, Sadi.”
“Maybe she’s at your house in New York. Look!” She jumped and spun in a circle. “See, I did a twist. Do you know you’re the only one who calls me Sadi?”
“Excellent twist.” He watched her. Watched the springs and the net. “I’m the only one who calls you Sadi because I’m your only big brother.”
She kept bouncing. “Why do you call Baba and Mama by their name and not baba and mama?”
It wasn’t the first time she’d asked. “Because when they adopted me, I was a lot older than you.”
“Oh.” She attempted a move that looked a little like the splits. “Is Tenzin” —bounce— “coming” —bounce— “soon?”
“I don’t think so.”
“When I grow up, I want my fangs to be curvy like Tenzin’s.”
Ben smiled. “You only get fangs if you become a vampire, silly.”
Sadia bounced over to him and rolled her eyes, letting her head fall back. “I know that.”
“So you’re saying you want to become a vampire?”
“Yeah!”
“Why?”
Bounce. “Because” —bounce— “my whole family” —bounce— “is vampires.” Bounce. “Silly.”
“Right.” She made it sound so simple. As if she was going to grow up and inherit the family restaurant or take over the farm. “Well, it’s a very grown-up decision. You know that, right?”
“I know.” She stopped bouncing and wove her fingers through the net, leaning to the side and letting her hair hang upside down. “Baba said I can only decide when I’m really old like you.”
“I’m old?” He poked her in the side and she giggled.
“Yes. Really old.”
“Well, you’re my sister, so if I’m old, you must be old. And short.”
She stood up straight and looked at him, her mouth hanging open in outrage. “I’m the second-tallest girl in my class!”
“Oh.” He turned around and patted his shoulders. Sadia got the message and jumped onto them. “My mistake.” He started walking back to the house with Sadia hanging on his back, swinging her legs and humming a song. “You must be very tall then.”
“Ben?”
“Yes?”
“Are you staying home for a while?”
He considered how to answer. “I may need to go away for work next week, but then when I finish with that, I promise I won’t stay away for so long again.”
“Ever again?” She leaned over his shoulder. “Promise?”
He bumped her forehead with his own. “I promise.”
“Good.” She put her chin on his shoulder. “I miss you when you’re gone.”
“I miss you too.”
“And I miss Tenzin.” She sighed. “I love Tenzin so much.”
Ben bit his lip. “I know you do.”
“Is Tenzin coming soon?”
“I don’t think so, Sadi.”
“Why not? Is she working?”
“I think so.” The lie slipped too easily from his lips, but he didn’t know what else to tell her. “Has she video-called you?”
“Yes. With me and Baba. She showed me your birds in New York.”
Ben stopped. “My birds?”
“Yeah. The pretty little birds that live in the glass house.”
“Oh right.” The spike twisted in his heart. “Those birds.”
“I like their names.” She giggled. “Tenzin said they were lovebirds.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Loooovebirds.” Sadia couldn’t stop the giggles. “’Cause they love each other.”
Ben couldn’t stop the smile at hearing her giggle so much. “I think you’re tired and you need to go to bed.”
“Do lovebirds kiss with their beaks?” She was still giggling in his ear. “I bet they kiss a lot, like Baba and Mama.”
Ben shook his head. “I think you’ve been infected with a case of the sillies.”
His words only made Sadia laugh harder. And for the first time i
n a long time, all was right in Ben Vecchio’s world.
4
The DeNovo-Vecchio predawn family celebration lasted until exactly dawn, when Ben abruptly fell into a deep vampire sleep. When he woke the next night, it was to a smell that was more welcome than the sweetest, freshest, most delectably pure blood in the world.
He sat up in the dark closet and inhaled deeply.
Dried chiles. Cumin. Corn. Sweet heaven and all the angels.
“Mexican food.”
Ben nearly tripped over the bedsheets he stood so quickly.
Throwing on clothes and glancing at the clock, he realized that jet leg wasn’t really going to be a thing anymore. Young vampires woke when the sun went down and knocked out when it rose. A few quirky ones like Beatrice and Tenzin woke during the day. And his uncle woke a little bit since he and Beatrice exchanged blood.
You exchanged blood with Tenzin.
He shoved that inconvenient voice to the back of his brain. It had only been once. Just the one time, and it would not be happening again.
When he left the room he’d used since he was twelve years old, he was met by the cacophony of voices that was normal in a busy family home.
“Mama, I want juice.”
“Is that the way you ask?”
“Princesa, here is some juice. Zain, give the baby—”
“Grandma, she has to ask politely. And she is not a baby. If you give in—”
“Thank you, Zain!”
“You are welcome, Miss Sadia.” A deep male voice echoed down the hall. “Miss Isadora, what are you wanting to drink tonight?”
“A juice sounds good to me too.”
Good Lord, had chatter in the house always been that loud to Giovanni and Beatrice? No wonder they’d tried to kick him outside so often. Though the voices were coming from the kitchen, Ben heard them like they were in the same room.
He walked through the familiar halls of his childhood, taking everything in with new eyes. Had he ever noticed the stunning swirls of blue in that ceramic vase? There were so many cracks in that oil painting! It nearly ruined it. No wonder Tenzin didn’t have much use for stealing oils.
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