Chloe was still cursing Levi. There was no way—none whatsoever—that Blair, Gwen, and the others hadn't heard her yelling like a banshee. He could have mentioned their presence earlier, damn him.

Bat wasn't meeting her eyes, and the witches looked like they were moments from exploding into laughter every time they glanced at her.

Only Tris didn't seem bothered. She was more interested by Chloe's tale.

"And you had no idea you were a fledgling, all along?"

She shrugged. "I mean, I knew I was weird, but no."

Tris glared at Levi. "You should have prepared her better for this."

Part of Chloe felt like she should come to his defense, explain why he hadn't. But she ended up sticking out her tongue at him.

"What she said."

He shrugged, indifferent to the critique.

"It worked out in the end, that's all that matters. Now, my most immediate concern is the matter of blood. Matters, I should say. You might not be able to survive on typical synthetic human blood."

Oh. Good point. Eirikr had said that their family drank vampire blood; did that make it their exclusive food source?

But no. Eirikr himself had survived for so long on whatever he could find.

"Maybe I could adapt," she said, hopeful.

Levi shook his head. "No reason to. We just need to get working on vampire synthetic blood."

Chloe opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again when the implication of that hit her.

Let him work on it if he wanted. She could think of a way to use it.

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about,” Levi said. “With your authorization, I would like to analyze your blood. The ferals bite several vampires every year. With luck, I'll be able to synthesize a cure from whatever antigen courses in your system. As the elusive queen has found a way to control the ferals, reversing their contamination is more important than ever."

Tris added, "And you'll be able to help the ferals you keep locked up for observation."

What was that?

"You have people locked up?" she asked, incredulous.

Levi inclined his head. "They're killed on sight when vampires encounter them. I spare them and try to treat them. Unsuccessfully, for the last hundreds of years, but…"

"And we were playing hot dog in a roll while there are people locked up that I could help?"

She was stunned.

Levi stiffened.

"Chloe, Bash was in transition toward feral. There may be no aiding those who were bitten weeks or months ago."

"Don't you think," she replied tightly, "that we at least ought to try?"

He hesitated. "I hoped you'd feel that way. But I wouldn't have presumed to ask you to bleed…"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a woman. I bleed every month. Come on. Let's go."

The galleries underneath the Institute were more dungeon than lab, but they'd been fitted with the latest technology. Chloe didn't need to go anywhere near the crazed vampires. Levi took vials of her blood to his office and distributed it to the cells remotely.

The creatures devoured it gruesomely.

All but a little boy quietly sitting on his bed, sipping at the vial, and commenting, "It tastes better than usual. Seasoning?"

"That's Steven. He's been here for months. He's my unexplainable factor. He was infected—we have records and video showing it. But by the time he came to me, he was…like this. Fine. His blood tests still show signs of infection, but it's not affecting him."

Suddenly taken by an idea, Chloe pressed the intercom Levi had used earlier to greet the subjects.

"Hey. Steven, right?"

"That's my name. I don't know your name. I don't know you at all."

He sounded a little off, but so would anyone after spending so long in a cage.

"I'm Chloe. Can I ask you a question, Steven?"

"You just did. Feel free to ask a second. I'm bored."

"Where are you from?" she asked.

He blinked, as if trying to remember.

"New Jersey."

So much for that.

Understanding her train of thoughts, Levi pressed the button again. "Where were you when you started feeling better, Steven? Do you remember?"

He tilted his head.

"I was…somewhere in Colorado. Can't remember where. I'd just drunk from a man. Human, I think. He tasted good, too. Seasoned."

Chloe gasped. "That's where I'm from," she told Levi. "I bet that was my brother, or father, or, I don't know, one of our ancestors."

Levi was frantically taking notes, grinning all the way.

Then they waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Hours passed, then days.

On Tuesday morning, Chloe left for a few hours to attend Reiss’s funeral in the meadow behind the Institute. All of Coscnoc was gathered in reverential silence. Then, when the witches began to sing, all joined in. Chloe didn’t know the lyrics, but she sang anyway, humming along to the ageless tune of farewell.

For the first time since Sunday night, as the wind picked up and she felt her friends shiver around her, she realized something.

She wasn’t cold.

Gwen and Blair accompanied her back to the dorms and helped her pack her bags.

“Are you sure this is necessary?” Gwen asked.

Blair nodded. “Newborns are volatile. And besides, it’s the same house.”

She was moving to the right-hand side of the dorm, with the rest of the dangerous students.

Including Tris and Jack.

Her new room was five times the size of the old one and ten times more luxurious.

“Same walls?” Blair asked.

Chloe shook her head. She’d changed too much to cling to the past.

“What color, then?”

“You pegged me well in January. Do it again.”

Her mentor tilted her head, thinking for a moment. Then she repeated her spell. This time, the walls were dark purple, and the flowers gold.

Between forty and seventy-three hours after drinking her blood, each subject in the containment levels woke up disorientated, confused, and angry.

All were cured.

Chloe would have given whatever drops of blood she could spare to help, but Levi didn't let her. He and the alchemist, Alexius, removed some of her marrow and started to work on a synthetic remedy instead.

He was busy, and so was she, catching up on days of work and a project that wasn't easy to organize from Oldcrest. Delivery companies didn't actually pop by the shielded sup territory. But she bribed Tris to pick up some stuff in the nearby towns.

The next Friday, her project was ready.

Chloe gathered the boxes she'd ordered during the week and set off.

When her eyes caught a silhouette she hadn't talked to since that dreadful day on the hill, she changed course.

She rushed to the lake behind the three hills, biting her lip.

Claim

The blond man in the white suit noticed her approaching. She could tell from the way he stiffened but didn't turn to greet her.

Shit.

“I’m sorry, Jack, about Reiss and Bash.”

She never had the chance to speak to him after the funeral.

He shrugged, throwing a stone that ricocheted off the surface of the water.

"It sucks about Reiss," he admitted. "But he knew what he was getting into. Just because we're catching a break behind these walls doesn't change what it means to be huntsmen. We protect the world from darkness. And yes, we get hurt doing so. Nothing new. He'll be honored as any warrior."

Chloe hated every single word he'd just said. She hated that this world existed, that it was normal to lose a twenty-eight-year-old to a pack of monsters.

"As for Bash," he added, "what are you sorry for exactly?"

She felt like it was a trick question, but she answered anyway.

"He died."

Jack had turned to her now. "So did you," he replied quietly.

Chloe's heart skipped a beat.

She had died. She remembered the sound of her snapping neck echoing in her ears. The girl she'd been, her mortal shell, had ceased to exist. And yet she felt no loss, no attachment to that person.

"I evolved, Jack. I may not have known it, but I was always meant to be this. I've never felt more like myself. My mind, scattered as it is, is finally entirely mine. I found myself. Bash lost who he was."

Words came easier to her now, too. Everything made sense. Her own brain, her strange desires. Even her father's descent into insanity.

She would not have Jack, or anyone else, feel sorry for her now.

Jack nodded. "I'm not sure how to help him now. How to guide him. Tris will turn eventually, but it's different. She's learned to be both a huntsman and a vampire her entire life. Bash…"

Again, she knew what to say.

"Be his friend. That voice at the other end of the phone if he ever calls. But not his boss. If he chooses to be a hunter after he accepts his nature, you'll be the first to know. For now, he's one of us. Trying to accept himself like this is going to take time."

Bash was staying in Levi’s house, and each time she’d visited, he’d been in that very study where she’d given him her blood, on that sofa. Reading. Sleeping. Maybe just avoiding her eyes.

Jack watched her intensely.

"Are you claiming him?"

The word had meaning, she could tell, and she didn't want to make promises she couldn't keep. She tilted her head.

"Are you claiming him as part of your clan, your family? Do you swear you'll take care of him?"

Maybe the old Chloe wasn't quite gone yet. Part of her was terrified at the prospect of being responsible for anyone at all, let alone a brand-new vampire, when she didn't even understand herself what it entailed.

But she wasn't just a newly risen vamp. She was an Eirikrson. The head of the Eirikrsons, as long as their forefather remained stuck in his cave.

Chloe had learned in Immortal History that most vampires no longer had any affiliation—they just lived their lives as they saw fit. But in the old days, almost everyone was sworn to one of the seven houses.