I don’t feel alive. I’m in Jeremiah’s home, his dead body inches away from me. I have no desire to leave. I don’t even want to move. All I want is to lie here and fall asleep and never wake up.
There’s nothing left for me. James and Micah are gone. I may as well be gone too.
Something comes back to me: Alex’s sad smile before we said goodbye. Ally’s determination to find out about her mother.
Maybe there is something else I can do in this world.
My vision returns with a burst of energy. I have to get out of here. Alex is waiting for me. Maybe I can rescue her from Finn. And I know I owe Ally an explanation. She and her parents deserve to know how brave James is. Was.
Another wave of sobs threatens to crash into me. Instead, I force myself to my feet. I stand up too fast, and the room spins. I catch myself on the couch, and then I’m staring back down at Jeremiah.
Did I make my parents proud tonight?
As I make my way toward the door, a terrible thought occurs to me. I just killed the King of the Northeast. Surely there will be consequences. The rest of the vampires will not let his death go unpunished.
I have to leave. Run away to some other city. Start over from scratch. Definitely change my last name. Maybe Alex will come with me. A sob begins to build inside of me because I can’t picture myself going anywhere without Micah, or James.
Before I leave him forever, I force myself to sit by his side, and pull his eyelids closed “Goodbye.”
Then I run through the halls. Jeremiah dismissed his staff when we arrived; the house is completely empty. I throw the front doors open. The cool air stings, but I don’t stop moving. When I’m across the street, I vomit into the grass until my stomach burns.
I start crying again, crying so hard that it hurts. There’s blood all over me. I want to tear this dress off and shed my skin and cry until I’m shriveled up and there’s no hope of ever rehydrating me.
The sound of tires squealing forces my head up. A white van pulls up to the curb.
Have they already realized what I’ve done?
The door is thrown open with such force, at first I think it’s a vampire stumbling out, calling my name. But it’s not a vampire.
It’s James.
He seems like he’s been dragged through the streets. A couple of times. His clothes are dirty and rumpled. His hair is plastered to his face. A gash on his cheek is still bleeding, and he cradles one arm against his chest. But there he is.
“James…”
He runs to me as I try to get up, but now his arms are around me and we sink down onto the ground together.
I’m weeping and laughing when I say, “I thought you were dead.”
He cradles my head against his chest. “I’m full of surprises.”
“Jeremiah is dead. I…I killed him. James, we have to get out of here.”
He gently leads me to the van that he was driving, and we leave this ugly scene behind us.
James
We stay away from the city for now. I stopped at a twenty-four-hour store for a new set of clothes for Bianca, who had to get out of that dress. The clerk didn’t say anything about my bruised face, but I saw the shock register on his face when I asked if he sold tee shirts. I grabbed things as fast as I could, and as I hovered in the candy aisle, I sent Shiloh a text. We’re okay. Immediately my phone began buzzing, but I didn’t answer. There was too much to say and Bianca was waiting.
Now we’re sitting in a hotel room with the blinds drawn and the lights on. “I’ve had enough of the dark,” Bianca said when I offered to shut the light off.
She swims in the giant I Love Philly T-shirt that I bought for her. When she leans her head on me, her freshly showered hair dampens my shoulder. I don’t care. I pull her closer, wrapping her up as much as I can. We wind up lying on top of the covers, curled around each other.
“Jeremiah told me what a spawn is,” she says quietly.
“I already know,” I tell her, holding her hand. “I hope it’s not…hard for you to be around me.”
She catches me off guard with a fierce kiss that leaves me a little dizzy. “I don’t care what you are. It doesn’t matter.”
I take her face in my hands. “You’re right. None of it matters right now. We’ll figure it out tomorrow, okay? Everything. How to deal with me being a rare half breed, which makes vampires want to kill me.”
“And having vampires come after me for the murder of their king.”
“Tomorrow,” I whisper. “I’ll figure out what to tell Ally and Shiloh and my parents.”
“And how to get Alex out of the Night House,” she murmurs into my chest.
Her arms wind around my neck, and I rest my cheek on the top of her head.
“Let’s just live tonight.”
THE END
Acknowledgements
Too many people, not enough space.
First of all, Dad, your crazy journey into publication made me think I could write a novel that wasn’t just for me. You inspired me.
Mom, you’re the greatest support system a daughter could ask for.
Elena, you’re descent into reading teen lit helped me justify my own passion.
Dave, you showed me all the music that I used to write the first draft of this.
Jackie, you’ve proven to be a lovely and patient editor who understands all the madness that real life throws at us. And yet you’re still comfortable with pushing me to get this done. I’m not sure I would have finished Night House without that.
Everyone at Month9Books is so incredibly passionate and enthusiastic about writing, it’s quite amazing and sometimes overwhelming, which is really the way a publisher should be.
Sara, you’re an awesome agent, who somehow found this book a home after I’d given up on it. I’ll be forever grateful for that. You helped make my writing dreams a reality.
The Experimental Teen Writing Class changed my life, sometimes for the weird, always for the better. Every one of you impacted my life. Maggie, Clint, Jess, Brandon, Carmen, Kellie, Nathaniel, Tara, Chris. You guys are hilarious and talented and you better still be writing!
To those of you who have known me from elementary school, and for some reason stuck around, thanks for making me laugh all these years, and for thinking this was cool, even when I didn’t. My Solebury School friends, some of you were my first readers and that was terrifying and exhilarating. I’m still grateful for that. And to my amazing teachers, who encouraged me to write, thanks for putting up with my shenanigans. My Hampshire College friends, you’re all insane and I love you for that. Kate, you were there when I got that email and we hugged outside of Victoria’s Secret and I’ll always remember that.
Jonathan, you crazy, amazing, unbelievable force of nature. You will always be my favorite teacher. This whole thing couldn’t have happened without you. I brought you that first chapter, and you gave me the hope that maybe it would leave my laptop and grow for the world to see. I stole so much of your time, and you were so gracious and read so many messy first attempts. You still have the best philosophy on writing, which I will do my best to uphold.
And Pete, who probably saw me at my worst during the end run of this novel, you helped me keep my sanity. Thank you for being my safe space.
Rachel Tafoya
Rachel Tafoya studied creative writing while at Solebury School and was published in their student run literary magazine, SLAM. She attended a writing program for teens at both Susquehanna University and Denison University, and the Experimental Writing for Teens class and Novels for Young Writers program, both run by NY Times bestselling author, Jonathan Maberry. Rachel is the daughter of crime author Dennis Tafoya.
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