The night air was thick with wood smoke billowing from the chimney, its acrid odor burning my nostrils. It was a smell that reminded me of home, of sitting in front of a warm, hypnotic fire on a cold night such as this. I found it oddly comforting as I sat out here in the middle of nowhere on the steps of Josiah's back porch.

"Look," I said, pointing overhead through the dense thicket of evergreen trees surrounding the secluded homestead. "The stars have come out. I think that one," I observed, craning my head for a better look, "is Orion." I squinted one eye as I traced an imaginary line with my finger to connect the dots that formed the constellation. "See how his sword is raised in one arm and shield extended? He's fighting off Taurus, the bull. And that one over there is Canis Major, the—"

"I don't care about the blasted stars, Blake," Ian said, cutting me off. He turned to me with a ferocious intent that took me off guard. "How could you end things with John? You loved him. Or at least that's what you claimed."

Lowering my arm, I clasped my hands in my lap. "Given the circumstances," I answered calmly while meeting Ian's probing gaze, "what did you expect me to do?"

I had just finished recounting the sordid history of what had happened since his disappearance more than a month ago. The story began with how I ended up working under Margaret's tutelage to better my compulsion and included Josiah's surprising revelations about his past, concluding with John's and my break-up and how I had discovered him locking lips with the witchy vampire, Hannah. Ian had listened quietly, not interjecting a word. I thought that was the end of the discussion. But instead of being sympathetic to my feelings, or even remotely understanding of what I had gone through, he was now looking at me as though he didn't know who I was.

"What?" I said, growing agitated and not a little unnerved by his glare.

"You're a smart girl, aye?"

The question was rhetorical, but I answered anyway. "Generally speaking, yes. Although people who don't understand my motives tend to think otherwise."

Ian's eyes narrowed. "Then I expect you to use the brain inside your head instead of acting like a love-sick lassie." He rose and bounded down the stairs, light on his feet, and yet I could feel the fury in every step he took. Pacing wordlessly, he finally stopped and stood staring into the black woods beyond, his back turned to me.

My face grew hot with embarrassment at being spoken to like a child. "I suppose I shouldn't expect you to be on my side," I said. "You're John's sire, after all."

And you love him in a way he will never love you back, I wanted to add.

Ian slowly turned to face me. "It's not about takin' sides. It's about seeing things for what they are."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm talking about how you were jealous of Hannah the moment she walked through John's door."

My hands clenched involuntarily in my lap but my voice was steady when I answered. "I was not, nor am I now, jealous of her."

Ian smiled, his teeth gleaming white in the halo of moonlight. It turned the tips of his hair silver and cast disturbing shadows over his face. He crept toward me, moving as stealthily as a predator as he spoke in a low voice. "I saw it with my own eyes. I know Hannah's mind, too. She's like a cat playing with a wee mousie." He climbed the steps and hooked a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You, my friend, are her plaything."

I smacked away his hand. "I am no one's plaything."

But even as I said the words, I knew there was an element of truth to them. Though Hannah had never been overtly hostile toward me, she knew how to get under my skin. Ian quirked his brow and turned away from me once again, not saying a word as he resumed his spot at the wood's edge. His silence only infuriated me more.

"What about the kiss?" I pointed out. "Don't I have a right to be jealous about that?"

Ian stooped to pick up a stone. Taking aim, he hurled it into the woods where it met its mark against a tree somewhere beyond and to the left. The sound reverberated through the night with a sharp whip-crack. Although my vampire senses were still dull for the most part, there were times when certain sounds or smells were crystal clear, a testament to my continuing evolution.

"Aye. Jealousy is an emotion with which I am intimately familiar," he said, almost to himself. He stooped again to root for another stone. "Hannah is a devious one," he said a bit louder. "I'll give you that." He threw the stone, which was followed almost immediately by another sharp crack. "But what was between Hannah and John happened many years ago. They've moved on. It would serve you well if you let go of the past and moved on, too."

"Move on?" I said, my voice rising. I was sick of people telling me to move on as if I could get over sadness and disappointment if only I tried hard enough. All Ian did was shrug and continue to throw stones.

"Weren't you paying attention at all when I told you what Margaret did to John, how she compelled him to . . . to . . . seduce me so that I could eventually be made a vampire? None of it was real, Ian."

He lowered his arm and turned to face me. "Margaret is what nightmares are made of," he said in all seriousness. "I would go out of my way to avoid crossing her. What she did to John and you was morally reprehensible."

I couldn't help the smile that formed on my lips or the laugh that bubbled out. "I'm sorry, but I never thought you'd be the one talking morality."

He smiled himself and came to sit beside me once more. "I guess you could say I've done a bit of growing up in the past few months." He sighed. "I have known John for a long time. Compulsion or not, never have I seen him feel about someone quite the way he feels about you. If he believes that love is real, so should you."

I lowered my head but felt Ian's hand on my arm. "Perhaps you don't truly love him," he said. "Perhaps there is . . . someone else?" He glanced over my shoulder toward the house, making his meaning perfectly clear.

I squeezed my eyes shut so that I couldn't see the accusation in his gaze, the look that said I had let down the very person I claimed to love. It was no secret that Ian loved John in a way John could not reciprocate. For me to just discard that love, as I'm sure it appeared to Ian, was what was truly reprehensible.

"I do love John," I admitted, speaking the feelings that were lodged in my heart. "But what Josiah and I have is complicated." That was as close as I would come to confessing my feelings for him. "Anyway," I added quickly, "I've sworn off dating until this business with Conrad Abernathy is over. No more boyfriends for me. Not now. Maybe not ever."

"Don't say that," Ian said lightly. "Besides, I have it on good authority that life, in general, is complicated. You must make your choices and accept the consequences, good or bad."

I gave him a look, biting back the response on the tip of my tongue. Ian was no stranger to running away from the consequences of his actions. We were on the same team now and I didn't want to fight with him, and I certainly didn't want to talk about my feelings for either John or Josiah.

"Tell me more about the Queen," I said instead, genuinely interested. "What is she like?"

Ian rocked back slightly, linking his fingers around one knee. "She's young, but only in appearance, aye? And beautiful . . . so beautiful it's disarming. I found myself getting a tad tongue-tied in her company."

I laughed. "You, tongue-tied? I don't believe it."

He tapped a finger against his temple. "She's a bit touched in the head, aye?"

The smile on my lips fell. "Josiah said she's sired many vampires over the years. How many do you think?"

John had once told me that siring a new vampire was an intimate process, given the shared bond. Taking into consideration my bond with Josiah, to have sired more than one vampire was inconceivable.

Ian dismissed my question with a wave of his hand. "I reckon enough she's near insane."

"Then how is she still the queen?" I wondered.

"By virtue of still being alive, I suppose. It took me some time to find her, even with Josiah's considerable help."

"Staying out of the public eye doesn't sound like a very pragmatic way to assert authority or solve problems," I pointed out. "Maybe it's time for a new queen."

"Maybe you should apply for the job," Ian suggested, jabbing me in the side.

I jabbed him back. "Are you kidding? I'm just trying to survive high school. All this vampire drama leaves zero time for studying. After my last progress report, I overheard my parents discussing that they were going to hire a private tutor. I had to compel them out of it. I'm beginning to think things would be a lot easier if I just told them I'm a vampire. Lying gives me such a headache."

I thought of my parents then, and of Zach and his parents, and wondered when—or if—I would see them again. I had not said a proper goodbye, and the fact that they would be off on their sunny Christmas vacation without a second thought about me or my whereabouts was depressing. I swallowed hard.

"When will the Queen arrive?" I asked.

"Soon," Ian said, squeezing my hand in the dark.

"Does she plan to come with an army or something?" I had no idea how vampires waged war against each other without attracting human attention.

"The Queen doesn't need an army."

"Do you honestly expect Conrad Abernathy to behave himself just because Mommy Dearest says so?"

"Aye, I do. What we have to make sure," Ian said, "is that Conrad and Margaret Abernathy do not find out about the Queen's visit beforehand."

Dread began to worm its way into my stomach. As much as I hated to admit it, Josiah was right. I had acted with my heart instead of my head when I sent my parents, and Zach and his parents, away. I couldn't regret that decision now.

Ian rose then and stretched his arms above his head. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"Inside. I need to make a call."

"To John?"

"Aye," he said unapologetically. "He deserves to know I'm back."

I nodded and reached out a hand to him, which he took. "I'm glad you're back. I know we've had our differences. I hope, after all of this is put to rest, that we can be friends."

"I would like nothing more," he answered. Then pulling his cell from his back pocket, he made his way inside.

I had been quietly sitting for some minutes when the door swung open and Josiah emerged. He sat down beside me and handed me another mug of warm blood. "You must keep up your strength," he said. "Especially now."

I sipped the blood. "Thank you."

"Promise me that whatever happens, you will be careful," he said.

"I'm always careful," I replied, raising the mug to my lips to hide my smile.

"You are impulsive, stubborn, and one of the least careful people I know."

"That might be a slight exaggeration."

"Be serious for once," he said.

"It's difficult for me to be serious when I'm scared," I admitted.

Josiah's eyes softened. I closed my eyes and tried to swallow the despair and hopelessness threatening to consume me whole. His lips briefly touched my forehead, and when I opened my eyes again, it was just me and the stars. 

*****

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