“What?” I asked, without turning my head.

“You’re squinting. Do your eyes hurt?”

“A little.” I hadn’t realized how tightly the muscles around my eyes were scrunched until he mentioned it. My eyes did feel more sensitive, as if the sunlight, even faded the way it was, was hurling needles at my face. I used to love sitting out in the sun with Lucy. It made me a little sad to think we wouldn’t be able to do that anymore.

Kieran handed me a pair of sunglasses. His fingers brushed mine. He really was kind of sweet for an agent of the cult dedicated to wiping out me and my entire family.

“Are you going to grow fangs too?”

I nearly stopped in my tracks. His hand was still holding mine.

“I guess so.” I ran my tongue over my teeth.

“Is your boyfriend worried?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” My smile was ironic. “Kind of hard to bring dates home to meet my parents—and my brothers.”

“Good point.” His palm pressed against mine. “Watch your step.” We crawled over the exposed roots of a tree that must have fallen in the last storm. It wasn’t covered in moss yet or those weird ruffled mushrooms. We climbed down into the valley, as the sun set lower and lower behind the horizon, leaving us in thick, cool shadows. The ground under our feet was soft. There was a wide groove, as if something had slid down to the valley floor.

A scrap of lace trailed from a broken branch in the tangled undergrowth.

My heart stuttered. I felt my hands go clammy before I could even form a coherent sentence. I knew that kind of lace.

“No,” I gasped, plucking it like it was a tattered black rose. “No.” I tore down the hillside, slipping in the dirt, skinning my shins and my palms.

Pebbles flung up at my passing and pinged me in the legs. Branches scratched my bare arms.

“Solange!” Kieran called, hurrying to catch up. “Wait. Where are you going?” I slipped and slid the last few feet.

“Be careful!” he hollered behind me.

I barely felt any pain, I was so entirely focused on following the body-wide scrape in the rotted leaves and pine needles.

“Oh my God,” I said, spotting a ruffle of lace and ribbon. I’d know those black petticoats anywhere, and the silk corset and jet beads. “Aunt Hyacinth,” I called out, crawling closer, tearing ferns out of my way. “Aunt Hyacinth, hold on, hold on.” She was lying on her back, her arm thrown over her face. Her arm from elbow to wrist and the entire left side of her face were blistered and raw. Only her age and the thick shadows of the valley had saved her from the full impact of the sun. Even so, she wasn’t moving, wasn’t responding at all. I hovered over her, not wanting to touch her in case it caused her more pain.

“Is she . . .” Kieran’s question trailed off as he came up behind me, panting for breath.

“I think she’s still alive so to speak,” I said, swallowing the lump of fear and grief forming in my throat. “She’s my aunt.” I could practically see bone under the ruin of her cheek. Sunlight alone wouldn’t have done that kind of damage. I scowled.

“Holy water,” I said through my teeth. “Holy water” was what we called the water Helios-Ra used as a weapon. They charged it with UV rays and vitamin D because we were deathly allergic to it in such concentrated form. “Someone threw holy water on her and then pushed her down the hill. The Helios-Ra use holy water, don’t they?” I pressed.

“Solange,” he said softly, tightly.

“Don’t they?” I yelled.

He nodded once, jerkily. “Sometimes.”

“Still so sure your league is totally blameless in everything? Look at her!”

“I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to lose family. My father was killed by vampires, remember?”

“I haven’t lost her yet,” I said grimly, pulling the thick chain out from under my dress. The liquid inside was deep, dark.

“What is that?” Kieran demanded.

“Blood,” I said, not looking away from Aunt Hyacinth. I’d never seen her look so frail, so still. It wasn’t fair. She’d been hunted because of me, because of the damn bounty on my head. She’d have been safely at home drinking Earl Grey tea or critiquing Lucy’s curtsy if it wasn’t for me.

“Ancient blood,” I explained. “From Veronique Dubois, our matriarch. It has healing properties for anyone of her lineage. I’d give her my blood, but it’s tainted right now because of the change.”

I didn’t mention that my vial held only a single dose, meant to give me an edge even if someone was there to help turn me on my birthday. And no one would be.

I’d see to that.

But first I had to save Aunt Hyacinth. I used my thumbnail to lift the lid, the hinge sticking slightly.

“Hold on, Aunt Hyacinth,” I pleaded. “Please hold on. Please, please hold on.” I held the vial to her mouth and tipped it slowly. Blood welled over her lips, filling the crease until it trickled through her teeth and down her chin. She was so pale, nearly blue as her veins struggled to accept the only substance that could save her.

Her throat moved slowly, spasmodically.

“She swallowed!” I nearly wept with relief. I held the vial over her mouth until she couldn’t swallow anymore. She still didn’t open her eyes, didn’t talk. But she looked less like she was about to turn to dust. “It’s all I can do,” I said, letting the chain fall from my fingers. “She needs more, but she’s too weak to finish the rest right now. I’ll leave the vial with her so that someone can use it to keep her alive if they find her soon enough to revive her.”