Afterlife

by Claudia Gray

  As I ran, I heard Lucas calling, “Hang on, Bianca! I’m coming!”

  The scene in the theater horrified me. The movie screen itself was on fire, falling away from the wall in blackening strips that writhed and curled in the heat. Plastic cornices on the walls were melting into bubbling streaks. And in the seats, which had been empty on that night, were dead bodies, lying crumpled and bloody. Every one of their throats had been torn out.

  They’re the victims of vampires, I realized. The ones Lucas has seen. The ones he’s scared he’ll create. Some of the corpses were on fire, too.

  Disgusted and nauseated, I stumbled away from the corpses and fell !backward. As I hit the ground, I felt the sharp lash of fire across my calf. With a gasp I pushed myself up again to see a red, blistering weal just under my knee; a piece of still — smoldering wood on the ground must have burned me.

  The danger was becoming more real. I had to get us out of here. “Lucas!” I shouted.

  Once again, I heard my own voice — yet not mine — calling his name as well.

  Pushing my way through the smoke, eyes itching and throat raw, I finally caught a glimpse of Lucas. He was at the very front of the theater, where part of the ceiling had collapsed into a jumble of metal and timbers. Beneath the timbers, face creased in pain, lay … me. Or Lucas’s dream version of me, anyway. My long red hair was splayed out on the floor, mirroring the blood pooling around my abdomen. The dream me was even more badly burned and blistered than I was. It was hard even to look at her.

  “Lucas, no! I’m over here!” I came closer, willing him to hear me.

  And he did, turning to see me. But his expression remained desperate, and he said only, “It’s okay, Bianca. I’m going to get you out.”

  Still he hadn’t broken through the powerful spell of the dream, but now I understood why Lucas believed in his illusions so desperately: Charity made sure that he would. Determined to get through to him, I started forward, but a cold hand closed fast around my wrist.

  “He has to learn that he can’t save you,” Charity said. Her blond curls were the color of the firelight. “And you have to learn that you can’t save 121 him, because he’s mine.”

  A searing jolt of power arced through me, like electrocution times a thousand. I screamed harder than I’d known I could scream — and the pain stopped.

  I opened my eyes to see that I was once again hovering in Lucas’s and Balthazar’s dorm room. Charity had flung me out of the dream.

  “What the — ” Balthazar pushed himself upright just as Lucas’s eyes opened wide. I must have screamed in this world as well as in the dream. Lucas saw me and blinked hard. “Bianca?”

  “I’m here!” I flung myself into his arms and hugged him tightly, willing myself to be as solid as possible. ‘Tm okay!”

  “In the dream, you were — That didn’t happen to you, did it? You didrn ‘t have to go through that?”

  “No,” I said, thinking only of the broken, burned version of me he had glimpsed. But as my leg brushed against the side of his bed, I winced, and Lucas looked down in concern. Silvery blood oozed through the pajama bottoms, revealing the long line of the burn against my calf.

  “Bianca!” Lucas slid off the bed to look more closely. He peeled the pajamas upward, which stung — but made him wince harder. Of course; my wraith’s blood was burning him. He just didn’t care. Wisps of smoke drifted up from his singed fingers as he examined the wound. “This really happened. Things that happen in my dreams have the power to hurt you.”

  “It’ll heal. It’s not anything major. Once I’ve faded out once, the worst will be over.” Although I tried to sound reassuring, my voice shook despite myself. The burn hurt worse than I’d thought I could hurt, after death.

  Balthazar, rubbing his head sleepily, wandered over to our side of the room. His eyes widened as he saw my burn. “How did that happen?” I turned to him, fear instantly transmuted into anger. “Why didn’t you tell us about a vampire’s sire?”

  “What are you talking about?” Taken aback by my shift in mood, Balthazar didn’t seem to know how to answer. “You both know what a sire is, right? I don’t see how you could not know.”

  “I mean, the part about the sire coming into your dreams.” I rose from Lucas’s bed and stepped closer to Balthazar, close enough to make him m straighten up. My leg ached, but I ignored it. “Why didn’t you tell us that?”

  Balthazar’s face fell, and he sagged backward as he realized what I was saying. “Damn it,” he swore. “Charity.” Lucas went pale. “Wait — in my dreams — Charity’s reaR”

  “Did you assume your sainted little sister Wouldn’t do that?” I demanded. “Or was it just more fun to let us figure it out for ourselves?” Balthazar’s mood shifted so fast it startled me. He got right in my face, his expression twisted in anger darker than I’d ever seen from him before. “First, nothing about this is fun. Not for you, not for Lucas, and not for me.”

  “Then why didn’t you — ”

  “Shut. Up.” Balthazar said. Lucas rose from his knees at that, maybe ready to get into the argument and defend me, but Balthazar never glanced toward him. Our eyes remained locked. “Second, I didn’t warn you guys because it doesn’t happen often. The sire has to really want to mess with somebody like that, and besides, doing that — it weakens a vampire for days. Maybe weeks. That’s why nobody does it. If she’s taking over Lucas’s dreams every night. Charity would have to be . .. beyond obsessed.”

  “In other words, Charity,” I retorted.

  Lucas wasn’t part of the argument, but what we were saying had its own effect on him. “Charity’s really in my head,” he murmured. “She’s the one making me so crazy.”

  Balthazar grimaced. “Yeah, she is. It’s sick and twisted — and yes, I understand by now that Charity’s sick. Even when I miss her, even when I think I can fix her — ” His voice broke, but he kept going. “I always know she’s broken.”

  “Balthazar — ” I said, more softly. trying to give him an out.

  “God, you cannot be quiet and let anyone else talk, can you?” He got closer to me — closer than he’d been at any moment other than the times we’d kissed. “Third, and last, I want you to get one thing straight. Whatever mistakes I made after you died, I’m not the one who turned Lucas.

  Charity did. And I didn’t force you to let Lucas rise from the dead. So stop blaming me for it.”

  With that, Balthazar turned, grabbed his bathrobe and cigarettes, and went for the door. I wanted to protest but knew it would just drive him 122 over the edge. But Lucas said, “Hey. Balthazar.” He paused with his hand on the knob. “What?”

  “You shouldn’t have yelled.” Lucas winced and then said, “But You’re not wrong.”

  Balthazar simply stalked out, slamming the door behind him. Down the hall, I could hear a couple of people muttering about the noise. Lucas, hearing it, too, said, “Hope nobody recognized your name when he was shouting.”

  “I can’t believe you took his side.”

  “I’m on your side. No matter what.” Lucas put his hands on my shoulders, which were solid enough to bear the touch. “But you’ve been giving him attitude at the slightest excuse ever since — ever since we died, I guess. That is never going to stop sounding weird.”

  “He shouldn’t have taken you along that night!”

  “I shouldn’t have gone with him. But it was my choice, my call. Besides — ” Lucas clearly didn’t like admitting this, but he went ahead. “Losing you hit him almost as hard as it did me. If I wasn’t responsible for my actions that day. neither was he.”

  I drifted slightly farther from Lucas, allowing myself to float to the windowsill, where I could tuck my knees against my chest. Hugging myself like a child, I realized, a kind of comfort I hadn’t outgrown. At the moment, I felt like there were way too many things I should ‘ ve outgrown, but hadn’t.

  “I know how badly you want someone to blame,” Lucas said. “Someone who’s here, now, so you
can give him hell. But Balthazar’s our friend, Bianca. He’s done a lot for us.”

  Slowly I nodded. “I feel stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid.” After a moment he said, “You thought about destroying me before I rose as a vampire. Balthazar talked you out of it.”

  “Yeah. But I let him talk me out of it.” The heaviness of that unspoken question was too much to bear, now; I had to know. “Did I do the wrong thing? Lucas, I love you so much. I couldn’t let you go. But I realize . . . I realize it’s what you probably wanted.”

  “It’s done. I know you made your choices out of love. That’s enough,” Lucas said. Although I still felt horrible — both for even having considered destroying him, and for not carrying through — I knew he forgave me. I wished it truly could be enough.

  “I wish I could cry.”

  He caressed my hand, as though he could massage away my sadness. “How’s your leg?”

  “Not great.” I flexed it and winced. “If I fade out, it will help, though.,.

  “We’re never doing this again,” Lucas said. His face was stark. “If Charity’s able to hurt you in my dreams, then you can’t come into them.”

  I remembered the first dream we had shared, back when Lucas had still been alive. We’d held each other in a bookstore where we’ d hung out, while the night sky miraculously stretched out overhead. It had been so beautiful and romantic; at the time, I had thought it was the only consolation we would have for my being dead. Now that, too, was lost.

  My face must have fallen, because Lucas kissed my forehead, my cheek, and then my mouth, the lightest and most tender of touches. “It’s okay.” He didn’t look as depressed as I felt. Given the burdens on him, I would ‘ve thought the realization that Charity was torturing him in his dreams would be all it took to send him over the edge. Instead, he seemed steadier. “I mean, think about it. Balthazar’s heard of this, the invading of the dreams. Apparently lots of vampires have. That means they might know some way to handle it. A block or — or something like that.”

  “Maybe.” That was encouraging. I brightened despite myself. “It’s possible.”

  “Even if Balthazar doesn’t know how to push Charity back, Mrs. Bethany probably does. Cotta be something, right?”

  “Right,” I said absently. Suddenly Charity didn’t seem like the only problem we had to deal with.

  Lucas wanted to trust Mrs. Bethany. He wanted to share his deepest fears with her, and to turn to her for help. She might be able to save him when I couldn’t. And in that moment, I couldn’t blame him for not caring about the traps she’d laid.

  It seemed to me as though everyone and everything — Charity, Mrs. Bethany, and his own blood hunger — was fighting me for Lucas’s soul.

  The next morning, I returned to the fencing room. Although the class had ended for the day, the room Wasn’t empty. Balthazar stood in his fencing whites, mask pushed atop his head as he wiped sweat from his brow. After the others in the class had fmished, he’d stayed behind to practice his 12E technique — to fight invisible opponents that existed only in his mind.

  I remembered that he often did that when he was stressed out; last night had been as rough for him as for me.

  Slowly I took shape in the far corner of the room, giving him plenty of time to leave if he d idn’t want to talk. He stayed. Within a few seconds we were face — to — face again, though the whole broad expanse of the wooden floor lay between us.

  “Hey,” I began. Lame, but maybe it was better to keep it simple at first.

  “Hello.” Balthazar tested the weight of his blade In one hand, then the other, like the saber was new ro him Instead of an old friend. ‘Here to practice?”

  “I never was any good at fencing.”

  “You learned a lot. Don’t knock yourself.”

  He could be kind to me, even now. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you last night. I shouldn ‘t have yelled at you about what happened to Lucas,. not ever.”

  Balthazar took a halfhearted stab at a nearby dummy. The steel curved into a thin arc under pressure. “I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. You were injured, and clearly you were upset.”

  “You didn’t say anything that didn’t need to be said.”

  “But I could’ve picked a better way to say it.” He slipped the mask off his head and tucked it under one arm as he walked closer to me. The fencing whites had always been a good look for Balthazar, and I remembered for a moment what it had felt like to be so close to him.

  I could never regret choosing Lucas, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of what I’d lost when I chose.

  As though he could read my thoughts, Balthazar smiled. “Friends again?”

  “Yes, please.” I wanted to hug him, but that was probably a bad idea.

  “Actually, most of the time, when you’re not upset, you’re very good about listening.”

  Just as I was about to simply say thanks — and be relieved, since his words last night about me not shutting up had stung — I realized he might be giving me an opening. “Do I need to listen now?”

  “Charity.” The name fell between us like a stone. “You were right when you said I was in denial about her. You’ve always been right about that.

  And on some level, I’ve always known.”

  Already I could feel anger pricking its way back into my consciousness, but this time I forced myself to remember that it was Charity I was angry at, not Balthazar. “She’s your sister.” The words came out calm and steady, for which I was grateful. “You love her. How could you help it?”

  “That’s no excuse for letting her run wild. Letting her hurt people. Or not making myself think about what she might be doing to Lucas, and to you.”

  “He didn’t tell you about it, though.” Lucas shared his feelings so openly with me that I’d had to stop and realize that he wasn’t as free with everyone else; even with the greater trust and liking between them now, Lucas would never have thought to talk to Balthazar about his bad dreams. “And you said Charity’s weakening herself to do this. I wouldn’t have expected that either.”

  “I’ve heard him tossing and turning in his sleep for a month now, and I never put it together. That was criminally stupid, and worth yelling at me about.”

  “I’m done yelling at you, okay? Forever.” Guilt slumped his shoulders and darkened his eyes, so I stepped closer and gently laid a hand on his arm. “You said yourself, invading people’s dreams like that — it’s rare.”

  Balthazar nodded. “I’ve never done it. Never had it done to me. Charity must be sleeping almost all the time, because it would be exhausting for her. On the other hand, since she’s asleep, that means she gets to be there every single time Lucas dreams. Damn it.”

  Only one thing mattered. “Is there a way to protect Lucas against it? Against her?”

  “Not that I know of. But let me think about it.” He studied my face for a few moments. “Some of what you and Lucas said last night, and that burn on your leg — it sounded like Charity goes after you in the dreams, too.”

  I nodded. “But she can’t manipulate me as much as she does Lucas. I guess that’s because it’s his dream, and I’m just visiting.”

  “Be careful, Bianca.” Balthazar’s voice was unexpectedly firm. “It’s Lucas’s dream, and that probably does mean Charity has more influence over his mind. But when You’re in the dreams — that’s all of you, not just your subconscious. That’s how you got burned last night. I don’t know 127 how much worse you could get injured, but you shouldn’t find out.”

  “We’re not going to try it again,” I admitted.

  Some of the sadness I felt must have showed, because Balthazar became gentler again. “How does your leg feel?”

  “Not great, but not terrible.” I pointed to show him I could move it. Whenever I became solid or nearly so, I could still sense the tight, prickly line against my calf, but the pain Wasn’t as bad any longer. Other, pettier fears crept into my h
eart, and I blurted, “Do you think Mrs. Bethany knows how to get Charity out of his dreams?”

  “I doubt it.” He cocked his head. “Why did that make you look .. . relieved?”

  “It’s weird to feel like she can help him more than I can,” I admitted.

  “That’s what we came to Evernight Academy for, though, right? To call on the experience of everyone here, give Lucas a safe place to adjust? Mrs. Bethany is a large part of what keeps this school safe.”

  “I don’t trust her.”

  “I don’t exactly trust her either. But I trust her dedication to this school and the vampires who come here.”

  “As long as she’s hunting the wraiths, she’s our enemy.”

  Balthazar paused. “We don’t know that. There’s too much we don’t know.”

  “Well, at least we agree there.”

  He smiled, and despite my other uncertainties, it felt so good to know our friendship was mended.

  After Balthazar left to get ready for his afternoon classes, I went incorporeal and drifted through the school, deep in thought. For a while I watched my dad teaching physics, scribbling out formulas on the board with so much energy that anybody who didn’t know him well would miss the sadness in his eyes.

  When I couldn’t take that anymore, I escaped to Mr. Yee’s modern technology class, where he was explaining to a group of older, out — of — touch vampires how to operate a washing machine. As he lectured about the spin cycle, I curled in a vacant corner and mulled over everything we’d learned — and everything we hadn·t.

  We needed to know how to keep Charity out of Lucas’s dreams, and whether I as a wraith could be hurt there, or perhaps help Lucas through it.

  We needed to know how many traps were in Evernight Academy, and their locations, so I could stay safe.

  Most important, we needed to know what Mrs. Bethany’s plans were, not only for the sake of the wraiths, but also to be sure whether or not she could be trusted.