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Like you even need my help, she snapped. You can already walk around and hug people. I never could get solid like that, and look at you now. Bet you could walk around the whole day.
“I can pretty much act naturally while I’ve got the bracelet,” I said to Vic and Ranulf. I couldn’t wait to surprise Lucas. He’d be so happy. Well, first he’d probably be scared out of his wits. But after that, he would see that there could still be some kind of future for us. We had a lot to mourn for; my lost life killed so many possibilities. Already I dreaded the long stretch of centuries that would follow after Lucas was gone. Nevertheless, it was more than I’d had before. “Does the same thing apply to the jet brooch? The one he took with him?”
Lucas took it along? Maxie relaxed a little; she still sounded sullen, but not as angry. Then you’re in luck, kiddo. Like I said, all the stuff we imprinted on in life, we can use in death. Not just to become corporeal—like you are now. You can also use them to travel.
“Travel? What are you talking about?” At this point, I was talking to the ceiling, too. From the corner of my eye, I could see Vic and Ranulf gaping in total confusion.
Ever been on a subway? Then you know how it works. You can travel anywhere the train stops. The things you connected to most strongly during your life? Those are the subway stops. You can go wherever those things are.
The gargoyle. How many hours had I spent staring at that thing grimacing outside my bedroom window at Evernight? Apparently I’d imprinted on it strongly enough that I could now travel back to the school whenever I wished. There would be other “subway stops” that I could find. My world had just expanded—if not back to the freedom I’d had when alive, at least a lot farther than this one house.
“The brooch,” I repeated. “Lucas took it with him. You mean—I could go to Lucas, right this second? Would I still have substance? Could he see me?”
Your bracelet wouldn’t go with you. But, hey, the brooch is jet, right? You might be able to use it once you get there.
“Jet is fossilized wood!” I grinned. Jet, too, used to be alive; that meant it was as powerful as the coral.
Vic said, “Please tell me the other half of the conversation is going to make the stuff you just said make sense.”
“Kind of.” I summarized the situation for them as best as I could, with only Maxie’s explanation to draw from. “I’m going to give it a try and see if I can do it. I need to tell Lucas we can still speak to each other—that there’s still some way—”
“Yeah, get out of here,” Vic said. “Lucas needs to see you as soon as possible, I’d guess.”
“How do I do it?” I asked Maxie.
She sounded fainter, like she resented my success too much to hang around much longer. You concentrate on it, really hard—see it in your mind’s eye—and then you ought to get there. Might take you a few tries.
I closed my eyes, determined to get it right away.
In my mind, I heard Maxie add, You can hang around the living all you want. Sooner or later, they’re going to forget you. And you’ll forget them. You’re dead, Bianca. The sooner you face it, the better.
I ignored her.
If there was one thing in the world I could picture perfectly, it was that brooch. The ornate carving—the outline of the strange, sharp-bladed flowers I’d seen in my long-ago dream—the cool weight of it in my hand, the way it fit into my palm—
Darkness.
Startled, I tried to figure out where I was. This wasn’t the terrible enveloping mist, but it wasn’t any place I recognized. No lights shone, save a few bars of red that I recognized as distant exit signs. The ceiling was high—very high—and I floated near it, trying to make out what was happening below.
Then I heard Balthazar’s voice echo, “Lucas! Look out!”
Beneath me I made out movement—two people struggling. They fell to the ground, limbs in a tangle. Fear pushed me downward, and I managed to get a bit closer. Still, in the darkness, I couldn’t see much besides rows of seats, as though we were in a church. But Balthazar couldn’t possibly be fighting inside a church—
Then I realized the white wall at the far end of the building wasn’t a wall—it was a screen. This was a movie theater of some kind. Like most of the places Charity preferred, it had apparently been long abandoned. Multicolored graffiti decorated the walls, and half the seats had been ripped out.
I looked closer at the people doing battle below me. The figures pushed apart from each other, and I could see them as they faced off. One was Lucas, his T-shirt ripped and a trickle of blood on his hairline. He was breathing hard, and in his hand he held a switchblade—a weapon nearly useless against vampires.
The other half turned, so that I could see her face. Charity.
“You let the ghosts have her,” Charity taunted. Her eyes shone like a cat’s, bright and flat. “Bianca’s body is rotting, her spirit is hostage, and it’s all your fault.”
Lucas shuddered, and I knew she’d cut him to the quick. His voice was deadlier than I’d ever heard it when he said, “You’ll pay for hurting her.”
“Do you even believe what you’re saying?” Charity smiled.
“You don’t want to kill me, boy. You want to die.”
I wanted Lucas to deny it. He didn’t.
