I was exhausted, absolutely spent. I lay down on my crumpled blanket on the floor, but I was shaking too hard to hope for sleep. I curled into a cramped ball and faced the horrifying facts. Eli was taken by vampires—probably dead—or worse, a vampire.

THE PLAN

Sometime later, a knock on my bedroom door woke me up. I don’t think I’d actually fallen asleep… maybe I did and my dream was me lost in the same unthinking daze as my waking life.

“Ruby, are you okay?” Mila asked, her voice barely audible.

I didn’t reply, not because I couldn’t, but because I was afraid I didn’t have any voice left. Mila tip-toed in. She ignored the state of my room and sat down next to me.

“I don’t think he’s dead,” she said. Her was voice light with hope.

“How positive of you…” I muttered.

“My tattoo is still here, that’s a good sign… right?”

Realization dawned on me. The tattoo! Eli wasn’t dead or a vampire. As long as Mila’s tattoo stayed on her skin, it meant he was alive. A flicker of hope ignited in my chest.

“Uncle is preparing for tonight. He thinks they’ll keep coming until they have you.”

I sat up, crossed my legs, and tucked the lock of hair that had escaped from my ponytail behind my ear. “Do you think Lucian will bring Eli? To lure me out?”

Mila nodded. “That’s what uncle thinks.”

I thought long and hard. There was no doubt about it. I’d exchange my life for Eli’s, no questions asked. I was the reason he was in this mess in the first place.

“There’s one other thing,” Mila began. “Uncle wants some of your blood. He wants to test the cure.”

I frowned; apparently Mila was now aware of what the council wanted with me.

“Does he think Lucian will turn the guardians into vampires?” I asked her.

Mila shrugged. “He’s preparing for everything. Why else would Lucian carry them away?”

The thought of Eli as a vampire made me ill. It was hard enough seeing Hunter as one.

“Okay, I’ll give him some blood.”

“Now. He wants to make a batch now. Are you up for it?”

I got awkwardly to my feet—I was stiff from lying still for so long. I limped on my dead leg to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. My eyes were bloodshot and slightly swollen from crying. Mila’s tattoo showed he was still alive and I needed to get him back. I detangled my hair and tied it back into a high ponytail.

“Are you ready?” Mila called from the living room.

When I was sure I no longer looked like I had literally cried a river, we headed toward Mr. Aleksandrov’s house. It was difficult. Everything reminded me of Eli, and although he was alive, it broke my heart seeing all the familiar things anyway. I did my best to keep my face hard and unfazed, and most of the time I was sure it was believable. Underneath it all, however, I was a mess.

Guardian angels nodded to me, like they owed me an apology for the way things had went down. Did everyone know Eli and I were involved? If so, why were we allowed to be around each other? If they knew, why hadn’t Eli been banished already? Pushing my questions aside, I did my best to nod back and appear unhurt by the situation. It was horrible.

Mr. Aleksandrov’s house was abuzz with loud chatter and plans. From what I overheard, they believed Lucian would come back tonight, and if he did, they’d do their best to trap him or Hunter with silver and find out where the stolen angels were.

“One of them will talk. Eventually,” a guardian said as I walked past the open tea room door.

I stopped just outside the tea room, hoping to catch some more information about tonight’s plans, but Nita the housemaid interrupted me.

“Miss Moore? Mr. Aleksandrov is ready to see you.” Her Indian accent was thick and deep.

Nita turned and walked up the stairs. I stared after her, unsure of where we were going. I usually met with Mr. Aleksandrov in the tea room. She turned on her heel and placed her hands on her hips impatiently.

“He’s in his office,” Mila murmured into my ear.

I proceeded up the stairs. This house had so many rooms, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to me that Mr. Aleksandrov had an office. I assumed we were going to his bedroom, a place I never wanted to go regardless of what he wanted from me.

Mr. Aleksandrov’s office was three doors down from Mila’s room. Nita flattened the front of her light blue dress and knocked on the door. She paused for a few seconds, stroked her long braid, and then opened the door. I turned sideways and shot Mila a skeptical look, which she returned with a careless shrug. It seemed I was the only one that found her ritual strange. The room was immaculate. The walls were paneled in wood, the floors carpeted in thick, deep crimson. The far wall wasn’t even a wall—it was a window that allowed you to see the lush forest that surrounded Sage. Black leather couches were arranged in a cosy grouping by the window, and the glass coffee table held a red crystal vase filled with pale roses. Suddenly I had the urge to take off my shoes and feel the carpet between my toes—Mila did. As soon as her toes touched the carpet she appeared to be relaxed. She floated over to the window and watched as two crows fought over an insect. As she walked, her feet made prints in the carpet. It was one of those cool two way carpets that you could draw pictures in. I copied her. I slid my boots off and then my socks and stepped on the carpet. As soon as I entered the room, I was completely at ease. The anguish I felt disappeared and the small feeling of nausea left me. Just like that nothing bothered me. Then, I remembered that Mr. Aleksandrov could influence emotions.

“But you’re not touching me?” I wondered aloud.

“I charmed my office. It makes my guests more at home.”

I had a strange urge to feel the carpet with my face, so I lay down. The carpet was unbelievably comfortable and as soon as I was lying flat on my stomach, I was fighting off sleep. I rolled onto my back and began making snow angels in the carpet.

“Why don’t you charm things everywhere you go if you’re so good at it?” I wondered aloud again.

“I don’t play god. I don’t want to control people’s emotions all the time. It’s healthier to feel what your body wants to feel.”

I felt amazingly relaxed, so relaxed that I wasn’t even embarrassed by my immature behavior.

“Perhaps we should talk now?” Mr. Aleksandrov suggested.

I stopped swinging my arms and legs and sighed as I climbed to my feet. I admired my work from an aerial view. It didn’t look like much of a snow angel, but I was proud of it nonetheless. I fell into the comfy arm chair opposite Mr. Aleksandrov. He seemed quite intimidating behind the big oak desk. From a drawer, Mr. Aleksandrov pulled out a small box of vials, each of which was filled with a clear, off-yellow liquid.

“This is the formula. The council was nice enough to lend me a few vials. If we mix this with your blood, we—hopefully—can cure vampires and help save our species in the process.”

“Are you sure it will work?” Mila asked, sitting on the arm of my chair.

“No, but it’s worth a shot.”

Momentarily, I spaced out. The clear lines of the world disappeared and were replaced with blotches of blurry colors. A shiver rolled down my spine, accompanied by a strange warm sensation. As soon as it was over, my vision came back. I glanced around, confused. What was that?

“Ruby?”

I blushed. It wasn’t often that I spaced out in the middle of a conversation. “What were you saying?” I asked, brushing off the strange sensation.

“I was saying that you’d have to be the one to administer the injection and we’re hoping that Hunter will give us that opportunity.”

“Hunter? You want to test it out on Hunter?”

Mr. Aleksandrov nodded.

“And what will happen if it fails?”

“There’s a good chance he’ll die, but,” he added quickly, “if it works, you’ll save his life.”

I wanted to ask a million questions and I wanted to make sure I knew every single detail about the formula, but the over-relaxed vibe of the room was making it difficult to see any negative sides to the plan—so I agreed to it.

“Excellent. Hopefully, we can do it tonight.”

“Why tonight, though? Why not next week or next month? What’s the rush?” The questions rolled out from Mila’s mouth and I wondered why I never asked them.

“After this, when are we going to get another chance to be up close and personal with a vampire? As soon as this is over, the council will know, and the school will be examined, and most likely renovated to make sure this type of thing doesn’t happen again. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have it bulldozed and force us to go elsewhere.”

I frowned at the thought of Sage Sanctum no longer existing. It was—is—my safe haven. It might not be at this precise moment, but I swore I’d claim it back.

Mr. Aleksandrov reached into his drawer again, pulling out two large vials attached to syringes. Most office people have notebooks, pens, and calculators in their desk drawers. Here, people have strange magical concoctions, guardian angel whistles, and pieces of silver to protect themselves against vampires. He rose from his chair and adjusted his long, pale green robe. It wasn’t the nicest color, unless you consider over-steamed peas a nice color. It made his skin and hair seem more washed out. He undid the belt holding his robe together and I squeezed my eyes shut, afraid to see whatever was underneath it. Mila laughed at me and nudged me hard in the shoulder, forcing me to open my eyes. I was wrong. Underneath his robe he wasn’t naked at all—thank god. He was dressed… normally. He wore classy black business pants and a white formal button-up shirt. Take away his absurdly long hair and beard and he’d look like any ordinary business man you’d see in the city. He closed his robe and tied the pea-colored fabric belt around my arm. Mila moved back over to the window.

“I don’t want to watch this,” she groaned.

Mr. Aleksandrov waited for my veins to make an appearance. When they did, he stuck the needle right in the middle of one and released the tie, filling the vial quickly. By the time the third one was filled, my head spun a little.

“All done.”

I grasped both arms of the chair and pushed myself up. Mila placed her hand on my shoulder, pushing me back down.

“Maybe you should sit for a little while…”

I didn’t argue. I was feeling too relaxed and calm in this room to want to leave, anyway.

“You girls make yourselves at home; I’m going to take these to Gwydion.”

As my body worked hard to replace the blood taken from me, I slumped backwards into my chair and played with the ends of my hair. Mila dropped herself into Mr. Aleksandrov’s chair, opposite me. She crossed her dainty feet on the table and smiled at me.

“What? He said make ourselves at home. Besides, I’m never allowed in here, so I’m going to make the most of it.”

She opened one of his drawers and pulled out a long brown wand.

“Whoa.” I stared at the wand.

She swung it wildly around her, chanting ridiculous rhymes. Every time she pointed it at me, I ducked out of the way.

“Will you be careful with that thing? I don’t want to be turned into a frog.”

Mila laughed. “Relax, I’m not a wizard, it’s nothing more than a stick, really.”

She placed the wand back in the drawer and I watched her as she searched through all of the strange things. Then her face fell and her eyes darkened.

“What is it?” I asked, sitting up and leaning closer.

She lifted a small photo frame closer to her face.

“It’s my parents.” Mila’s lips twitched slightly, as if she were going to smile.

She turned the frame around so I could see it. Mila was an only child, by the looks of it. Her parents were gorgeous, her mum more beautiful than any goddess I’d ever seen. A waterfall of platinum blonde hair draped from her head down past her shoulders, straight and shiny. She had blue eyes like Mila, and if it weren’t for the obvious age gap, I’d swear they were twins. Her dad’s hair had more of a golden edge to it, like baked bread. He was tall, handsome, and held a happy glint in his green eyes.

“Now I see where you got your freakish beauty from,” I pointed out.

Mila chuckled. “Yeah, they were very beautiful people, inside and out.”

I glanced at her, her eyes were glazed over like she was reliving some distant memory.

“How’d you end up in your uncle’s care?”

It was my indirect way of asking ‘how did your parents die.’

“One night, when my parents went out to dinner, they were jumped and killed by vampires in a parking lot. Their death was one of those ‘wrong place at the wrong time’ kind of stories.” She shrugged. “I was being babysat by my uncle when we received the news. From that night on, he became my legal guardian.”

“How come Ivan is a wizard, yet neither of your parents were?”

“My grandmother found him when he was little—abandoned. She tried her hardest to find a place for him, but no one was allowed to take him. After months and months of discussions with higher authorities, she was granted an adoption certificate and that’s how he became my mother’s brother and my uncle.”

“What a story.” I exhaled.

“Believe it or not, Mr. Aleksandrov is actually younger than my mother. He’s only thirty-five now.”

“You’re lying!”

“Seriously, ask him yourself. Wizards look older than they are, their bodies’ age faster than ours.”