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“I know,” Lozen said. “I’m sorry too. I’m just so anxious.”
Everywhere Lozen went, now, ravens gathered like sentinels, watching. She pretended not to see them, but Saber knew she was very much aware of them.
It was extremely unsettling. Something about Lozen had changed.
They had made a decision, probably a bad one. After the evening at Ansel’s house, they’d stayed up all night talking, andhad agreed that they wanted to kill Derek, but they wanted to do it without Elijah, Mia, and Doug.
Ansel was sending Saber away. Her dad wasn’t questioning the decision, and she didn’t know how to fight it. She couldn’t leave without finishing what they started, couldn’t leave without killing Derek and Ysidra. They drove to the desolate house hanging from the bluff where she was pretty certain Derek lived. If they were wrong, it could be a much stronger, uninjured vampire.
“Are we being stupid?” Lozen asked, as they left the car on the side of the road and made their way to the house, walking with determination along the narrow shoulder.
“Definitely,” Saber said, feeling for the stake in her front pocket. A heavy mallet dangled from her belt, and she walked in an awkward, lopsided way because of it.
“But are we going to die today?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t think so.”
Lozen sighed.
“Me neither.”
Saber looked at her.
“Can you see the future?”
“No.” Lozen laughed softly. “I can’t read minds or see the future. I just have a feeling.”
“Agoodfeeling?”
“No,” Lozen said. “A feeling that whatever we do doesn’t matter, that something bad is going to happen no matter what, but that we’re not going to die.”
“I’ll take it,” Saber said, and they walked down the steep front yard toward the house.
Saber tried the door, knowing it would be locked, then walked around to the side of the house, only a few steps fromwhere the bluff tumbled into a churning, frigid-looking sea. The water was green, an icy, threatening blue-green, and Saber shuddered at the sight of it. Then she wrapped a towel around her hand and punched a hole in the window, found the latch, and forced it up and open. She felt weirdly numb, muted, like nothing mattered.
“Ok,” she said, taking a deep breath.
“Ok,” Lozen repeated.
Then, one at a time, they climbed through.
There was a musty, damp smell in the house, like it was unused, lifeless. Homes in the Pacific Northwest could degrade quickly in the moisture, and this one felt like it had been sitting, windows mostly closed, no air circulation, for months. There was furniture, but it looked as though whoever had furnished the house had only been vaguely aware of the concept. Uncomfortable, mismatched, cobbled together, with dated pieces and Ikea throw-aways, the inside of the house reminded Saber of college apartments of dudes who didn’t really care.
“It’s different than the mansion,” Lozen said, apparently noticing the same things Saber was.
“The mansion was like… a trap.”
“A beautiful trap,” Lozen breathed, “to entice victims. This isn’t that.”
Saber couldn’t help but think that Ansel very much liked luxury and beauty, so the sparse, ugly feeling this house gave her felt like a stark contrast.
They both looked around. Speaking of spider’s webs, they were everywhere, floating in corners, barely visible in the gray half-light. There was dust, too, covering the tabletops and surfaces.
They went upstairs first and found a bedroom with a single king-sized bed, mattress bare, a few dated pieces of oak furniture pushed against walls.
