I looked away as if the sight burned, focused on carefully tightening the cloth around the stone and slipping it into my pocket.
I cleared my throat. “Thank you.” It seemed a bit of an underwhelming response, but what else could I say?
Dorian nodded. “Please don’t lose it. I’d like it back.”
“I understand.”
A silence fell between us.
I cleared my throat. “How will I contact you? After I’ve spoken to my uncle and the Bureau?”
Dorian mounted the redbill in one fluid, sweeping motion. He held my eyes for a moment, his blue gaze sharp.
“I’ll find you in a few weeks,” he said, and the bird leapt into the air, hammering its wings. The resulting gust of wind pushed me back, and the animal hurtled away into the sky.
I stared until they disappeared into the clouds hanging over the horizon.
Show-off.
Chapter Eleven
I made my way down the hiking trail, following signs leading to a ranger’s station. I needed to call my family—they would be scared to death—but I had to collect my thoughts first. I’d never been so grateful to have my feet on the ground.
After only a couple miles, the ranger’s station appeared through the trees, and I broke into a sprint for the water fountain on the side of the building. I shoved my face into the water stream, the coolness welcome on my skin. Then I pulled back, took a breath, and sucked down water until my sides ached.
The station was empty, so I sat beside the closed building and pulled out my phone.
“Lyra?” my mother gasped on the other end after only half a ring.
“Mom, it’s me. I’m okay.”
“My God, Lyra, where are you?”
“I’m in a national park. Near D.C., I think.” I looked at the sign in front of the station. “Rock Creek Park. Station D3.”
My mother repeated my location to someone who was with her. I heard my father’s and brother’s voices, fuzzy yet distinct, in the background.
“She’s okay?” Zach hollered.
“Lyra, we’re in D.C. We have a helicopter. We’re coming,” Mom said, struggling to keep her voice even.
“Okay.” I breathed out.
“You’re all right? You mean it?” Her voice lowered, becoming wavery.
“I’m fine. I really am.” I think.
“We’re coming.”
I scooted against the wooden building, leaned all my weight onto the wood, and closed my eyes. Images flashed across the back of my eyelids like lightning strikes. The man’s throat spurting blood. The way Kane’s eyes cut me. The countless bones. I shuddered. My mind shifted to Dorian—the storm clouds swirling under his skin.
I’d drifted off slightly when the beating of the chopper’s blades snapped me back. The scouting helicopter lowered to the pavement in front of the station. My parents waved frantically. I bolted.
I hurled myself into the chopper, the closest to safety I’d been since sunrise. My family’s voices blended together in a warm thrumming alongside the chopper’s vibrations. There were so many arms around me, familiar smells, relieved tears. My mother held my face like she’d thought she would never see it again. My father kissed my forehead, his beard tickling my skin. He hadn’t done that since I was eight. Zach hugged me so tightly I choked. Uncle Alan clutched my hand in his shaking ones, tears welling in his eyes. Seeing him like that shook me.
My brother pulled me into the seat next to him, wrapping an arm snugly around my shoulder. Gina gripped my hand, her face furrowed with guilt. I smiled at her. It’s not your fault.
The chopper rose, and I leaned my head against Zach’s shoulder. Muscles I didn’t even know I had ached. Turns out there is something that daily training exercises don’t stretch. Who’d have thought.
I glanced around the circle again, savoring the sight of every face. It made it even more surreal to remember the circle of vampires around me, their eyes mistrustful and predatory, trying coldly to decide whether they should let me go, keep me hostage, or worse. It was hard to imagine those otherworldly creatures showing this kind of warmth, having this kind of family bond.
“I don’t know where to start,” I said, squeezing Gina’s hand.
“You don’t need to yet,” Uncle Alan interjected. “They’ve called an emergency national board meeting at the D.C. headquarters due to Gina’s vampire sighting. We need you to recount what you’ve seen today.”
My father pulled a few bottles of water and granola bars from a bag of supplies beside him, and only once the bars rested in my hands did I realize how hungry I was. They vanished in moments, and the water shortly after.
I set my head on Zach’s shoulder and closed my eyes.
* * *
The D.C. headquarters’ meeting chamber had a long mahogany table and matching chairs. An entire wall of windows overlooked the city. Twenty board members gathered around the table when we walked in. My nerves were so shot that the presence of this many higher-ups didn’t even phase me. What strained my mind was the inconceivable task at hand.
Uncle Alan had entered the chamber before me and Gina. He sat at one head of the table, and he smiled and gestured for me to sit next to him. Another four seats remained empty, intended for my family and Gina. It was unheard of for this many family members to be at a debriefing, but Uncle Alan had clearly pulled some strings for me.
I lowered myself to the smooth, polished mahogany and looked around. Crisp suits and golden name plaques stared back at me. My mother sat to my right and Zach sat on her other side. Mom patted my leg under the table.
“Thank you all for coming so quickly.” Uncle Alan addressed the room. “Board, we call this meeting to order to hear testimony regarding a vampire sighting by Lyra Sloane, Occult Bureau First Lieutenant under Head of Command, Captain Bryce. Event occurred today at approximately 06:20 during the operation you were all briefed on immediately after it occurred.” My uncle’s professionalism never failed, regardless of the circumstances, or the fact that half the people sitting around him happened to be immediate family.
Several members shuffled papers and clicked their pens.
“A second witness is present. Gina Blackwell, also First Lieutenant under Bryce’s command.” My uncle gestured toward Gina, and she nodded in affirmation.
“Lieutenant Sloane,” Uncle Alan continued. “Start your testimony from five minutes before the sighting and describe in detail everything that followed until your rescue.”
I inhaled and cleared my throat, unnerved by hearing my uncle call me “Lieutenant Sloane.” Tell them the facts. Deciding what to do about them isn’t my job. Relief flickered through me at the thought—until I remembered Dorian’s haunted eyes. I leaned forward, determined to do this to the best of my ability.
“Lieutenant Blackwell and I were scouting an abandoned church for threats registered by Bureau surveillance,” I began. “We believed we were alone on that floor. We surveyed the perimeter and returned to the staircase.”
“Had any threats been visually confirmed at the site?” Uncle Alan asked.
“No,” I breathed. “Nothing had been spotted yet. When we neared the staircase, we saw a figure. I called out to him, with no response. He rushed me, removed my weapon, comm, and phone, and carried me out the church window.”
“He?” a female member asked over her glasses.
“Yes, the vampire was male. He called himself Dorian.”
I grew more confident as I continued speaking. Pens scratched rapidly. I explained how we flew on a redbill’s back to reach the cliff.
“I have no idea where the cliff was located,” I said. “That’s where we spoke for the first time.” I paused.
“What did the vampire say?” Uncle Alan asked.
“He asked my name, age, and rank. He didn’t seem overtly threatening,” I replied.
Several eyebrows rose. My mother wrung her fingers in her lap. I summarized our conversation. I saw more eyebrows rise and subtle sideways glan
ces when I pointed out that Dorian had known some of the Bureau’s inner workings—including my uncle’s name.
“We rode the redbill to a motel in a heavily forested area. It was called the Woodland Lodge. I heard a highway somewhere nearby.” I inhaled. “The vampire and the redbill fed on a human man.”
Zach rubbed his temple.
“Do you know who the man was?” a member questioned.
“I had no way to identify him, sir.” I shook my head. “He’s dead. The vampire said that he had committed multiple rapes and planned to kill, soon.”
The room stood still.
“How did the vampire know that?” Uncle Alan inquired, setting his hands on the table.
All eyes fixed on me.
“I… I’m not certain.” I furrowed my brow, forcing my mind back to the surreal moment. “He… appeared to have a negative physical reaction to the feeding. It looked painful. Almost like he was experiencing the bad things the man had done, from… drinking his blood.” If that makes sense. It hadn’t fully occurred to me until now. If vampires literally consumed darkness, I supposed it did make sense.
Uncle Alan wrote on his pad of paper.
“We flew again,” I continued—but then swallowed, unsure of how to follow up. I saw Carwin in my head, his tiny broken arm. Rhome and Kreya. Kane’s face twisted with resentment. A stab of guilt slid between my ribs. What if the board decided, despite my plea, to exterminate all the vampires I’d seen? If I’d heard of a hidden vampire enclave even twenty-four hours ago, that would have been my first reaction, too.
Withholding information from the board was treason. But what if the board had lied? Indecision twisted my insides. I felt like I was freefalling—but not on a redbill this time. The room’s silence rang in my ears.
If there’s even a chance that Dorian is telling the truth… if there’s even a chance that those vampire children are innocent… Besides, if Dorian’s plan went through and he got a meeting with the board, they would have plenty of time to find out about the other vampires from him. I closed my eyes briefly, ignoring my knotted stomach.
I looked around the circle again. “We went to another world. Another realm. It may be the source of the occult occurrences in our world. I know it sounds completely unbelievable, but it’s what I saw.”
Every face was stone.
“The vampire called it the ‘Immortal Plane.’ We flew through a blinding white light to reach it.” I continued describing what I saw, including the mountains and the redbills.
I studied the members’ faces. Nothing.
“We flew over a huge city that had been completely destroyed,” I said. I steadied my voice, remembering. “I saw rubble, burnt buildings. And a grave—a mass grave filled with hundreds of bones. They may have been deceased vampires,” I stated. Describing it made it feel more real to me.
Papers rustled. Still no visible reactions.
“The vampire told me that only his kind are meant to cross between Earth—he called it the Mortal Plane—and the Immortal. But the barrier tore, and that was devastating to his species. He said that humans caused the tear by trying to reach the Immortal Plane. And the tear is still there, making his species vulnerable.”
Uncle Alan tapped his pen on his chin. Some members shifted in their seats or exchanged glances.
I took a deep breath. “He told me that he needed our help. He said that this tear is dangerous for both humans and vampires, because if vampires are entirely wiped out, the imbalance in the universe will harm humans. After the tear weakened the vampires, immortal beings in the other plane tried to wipe them out. Now, he and other vampires seek asylum on Earth, and they want to cooperate with us. They want peaceful relations. In return, he said that they would help us with the redbill problem. He will contact me for your answer in a few weeks.”
No one was writing anymore. The female member had taken off her glasses. Their stares bore into me.
“The vampire brought me back to D.C. You can see he did not harm me; he let me go. I have proof.”
I pulled my cell from my pocket and opened the photos of Dorian, feeling only a little silly about showing off my vampire selfies. I handed my phone to Uncle Alan, keeping a perfectly straight face.
He studied the photos for a long time. “Did the vampire force you to take these pictures?” he asked, after giving my phone to the next board member. It passed slowly around the circle, each member swiping back and forth between the two images.
“It was my idea to take the pictures,” I replied.
Uncle Alan raised his eyebrows and nodded.
The phone returned to me, and I put it in my pocket. I felt Dorian’s stone in my pocket when I slid my phone in. Dorian’s face flashed through my mind, the sound of longing in his voice when he’d said the stone was from his home. My gut told me to hold steady—maybe the pictures were enough proof. It felt likely that if the Bureau took the stone, it would never be returned. I didn’t pull it out.
No one spoke for a few moments.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Sloane. You’ve given us all a lot to think about and discuss. You’ve had a very tiring day, so let’s get you home to rest.” Uncle Alan placed his palms on his papers and smiled at me. “And in the meantime, do not discuss what you’ve shared with people outside this room.” He nodded at Zach and Gina to follow the same orders.
And… that was it. I had no idea what the board would decide to do. I wasn’t sure whether I was disappointed I hadn’t seen more reactions, or glad. My mother stood and placed a hand on my shoulder. We left the chamber. I felt eyes on my back until the door shut behind us.
As we made our way to the building’s exit, Uncle Alan’s voice from the other night looped through my head. Letting this information reach anyone else’s ears is out of the question… Stability and calm are the most important things for the Bureau, this country.
I turned to my parents. “Did you two know about the Immortal Plane? About the breach?”
My father sighed and stared at his shoes. My mother pressed her lips together and looked at me, her eyes troubled. I took that to mean they weren’t allowed to answer the question—which sometimes happened in our working relationship—so I didn’t ask again.
My feet dragged over the marble floor. Exhaustion squeezed every muscle, but my brain still ran at full speed. Some of the guilt had dissipated after I spoke Dorian’s request aloud. I’d done my best to help him without endangering my own species. The board would handle this. It was out of my hands now.
Guards escorted us to the tarmac of the D.C. headquarters airstrip, where a small Bureau charter plane waited to take us to Chicago. My mother ushered me onboard first, and I plopped into a seat beside a window. Zach sat beside me and ruffled my hair.
The sun was finally setting. We took off, and I watched the city disappear below us. With my forehead pressed against the window, I drifted from consciousness.
This is a lot slower than a redbill.
Chapter Twelve
“Lyra, you awake?”
I cracked an eye. I had no idea how long I’d been out. Zach came to my bedside with a tray and a glass. Oatmeal, toast, and orange juice.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, angling myself up on an elbow. “What time is it?”
He set everything down on my nightstand. “It’s evening.”
I pulled my phone out from under my pillow. Five o’clock. Yikes. And I’m still tired.
I accepted a spoon from him and sat up to shovel oatmeal into my mouth. “Is Uncle Alan here?” I asked after swallowing.
“Not yet. He called and said they’re still finishing up meetings in D.C. They had a lot to sort out.”
I nodded, chewing on my toast.
“Are you feeling all right?” Zach asked, his face lined with concern. He sat on the bed beside me.
“Pretty beat. But I’m okay.”
Zach nodded and paused for a moment. He was fidgeting and picking at his thumbnails like he always did right before expressing som
ething he’d been thinking about for a long while. I swallowed another spoonful of oatmeal.
“Do you remember that time when you were about six, and I was nine—we walked off Bureau property to that corner market to get candy? You said you wanted gum.” Zach rested his chin on his hands, his eyes intent on me.
I thought for a moment, but nothing rang a bell. By the time Zach was that age, our parents let him take me for walks regularly. It was usually his idea. That was Zach—man about town.
“And I ran into my friends and left without you?” he added, a small, guilty smile pulling at his lips. Zach had always been the more outgoing, charismatic one. He saw friends every time we were out in public. It wasn’t that I was unpopular—just kept to myself a bit more, especially when I was younger. My training with the Bureau had cracked a lot of my shell, and I’d found that I was a natural leader, too.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, after swallowing some more toast. “I got lost on the way home even though it was only seven blocks.” I closed my eyes, shook my head, and laughed at myself. I’d gotten distracted by a dog walking by, and once I’d stopped petting it, I’d accidentally started walking again in the wrong direction. I mean, I was six years old, after all. My sense of direction had definitely improved with age and Bureau training, too.
“It was my fault. I left you there. I was supposed to take care of you and watch you.” Zach’s eyes trailed over the carpet and fixed on a random sock I’d tossed and forgotten about. I watched the side of his face; the rims of his eyes were reddening, and he was chewing on the inside of his mouth. On the rare occasion that my brother got emotional, there was always a trigger reaction for me, like we were internally synced to feel what the other did. My lip quivered.
“Please don’t cry. You know that always makes me cry,” I said softly. I set my plate down on the nightstand beside my bed and reached over to squeeze his arm.
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