Metal struck stone, and when I looked back again, Riley had dropped the knife, was backing away. He made it two steps before he ran into Connor.
“What the fuck?” Connor said, his voice harsh. And then he turned his eyes, huge and cold, on Riley.
“I didn’t do this,” Riley said, but there was more than a little uncertainty in his voice. “I didn’t kill him. I don’t even—I don’t even know him. He popped his cork earlier, and that’s it between us. I didn’t fucking touch him.”
All evidence was to the contrary, which made my stomach roll in greasy waves.
Connor nodded, but put a hand on Riley’s shoulder, and his fingers were white with tension. Riley wasn’t going anywhere.
The German delegate screamed again, and people began running over, creating more noise and more chaos. I scanned the crowd for Kelley or my parents, or someone from the Ombuds’ office. But while there’d been plenty of people to meet earlier, no one had yet appeared to handle this crisis.
“Ma’am,” I said, “please stop screaming.”
But she didn’t stop, and the sound triggered more rounds of yelling from the people who joined us.
“Step back!” Connor yelled over the din. His hand was still on Riley’s shoulder, but this time the move looked protective. “Everyone step back and shut the hell up.”
The vampires closest to us, to Tomas, were smart enough to follow the angry shifter’s instructions. But the other delegates from Spain arrived, and the ear-piercing screams—this time joined by wails—began in earnest again.
“¿Que paso? Who did this? Who has hurt Tomas?”
Someone tried to pull a delegate away, but he yanked his arm back, making contact with another vampire who stood nearby. Thinking he was being attacked, the second vampire struck out.
I cursed and ran toward them, grabbing one by the arm and pulling him away from the crime scene and the fight.
What should have been a moment of quiet reflection became—because of fear, shock, language barriers, and the vampire ego—a comedy of errors.
“That blond vampire is attacking!” someone screamed, and someone else tried to wrench me away from the fighters I’d been attempting to separate.
“I’m not the one attacking!” I said. “I’m the one trying to break it up!” While my katana might have been handy, it was probably better that I didn’t pull it on visiting vampires.
The vampires behind me were shoving each other, which pushed me forward so I nearly tumbled into the spreading blood on the patio.
“Elisa!” Connor called my name, but he’d shoved Riley behind him and jumped into the fray to separate two more fighting vampires.
The fight was all around us, chaos spreading like a rippling wave through the party my parents had so carefully arranged.
A male vampire with platinum hair and pale skin ran toward Riley, malice in his expression. I moved to intercept them, grabbed the arm he raised to strike Riley’s back, and twisted.
The vampire was old, and he was strong. He swung around and backhanded me, and would have sent me to the ground if I hadn’t kept my grip on his free hand.
Pain sang across my face, and the monster decided it had waited long enough. It was heat in my bones and fire across my skin, and it slammed against the edges of my consciousness, trying to break through.
I fought back against two opponents—avoiding the vampire’s next strike and bearing down to keep the monster contained, to keep it from rising up and taking me over.
The vampire snatched his arm away, and this time I let him. He had to shift his weight to stay upright, and I took advantage—a front kick that connected with his chin. A snap of his head, and he fell back to the ground.
Someone grabbed me from behind, pinning my arms. I screamed and kicked backward, fought my way free, and punched the vampire who’d held me, sending him stumbling backward and radiating pain through my arm.
Pain was a drug that fed the monster, and it grew stronger still. If it couldn’t have freedom, it would take blood.
Its rise pushed me down, as if I were sinking slowly to the bottom of a pool, watching the world through sun-dappled water. My body still moved, but the monster was in control. And it was far more bloodthirsty than me.
The vampire I’d punched climbed shakily to his feet and aimed furious quicksilver eyes in my direction.
The monster stretched through my limbs, rolled my shoulders, and then plunged forward. A side kick to put the vampire off balance, and then a front kick to put him down. He hit the ground and grabbed my ankle, and I used my stiletto-clad foot to stomp on his hand.
He screamed, and the monster reveled in it.
Memory flashed—of the man I’d left bruised and bloodied on the sidewalk, my knuckles cracked and raw . . .
Not again, I told myself. I won’t let it happen again. I mustered every ounce of strength, worked to push up, to swim through the monster’s magic.
“Stop this now!”
My father’s words were an earthquake of power and fury. And they were enough to freeze every supernatural in the scuffle—and send the monster back to its depths. I sucked in a breath like a diver breaking the surface, and felt my fangs retract. . . . And I hoped to god my eyes weren’t crimson when my father got a look at my face.
He stood behind us, eyes silvered and fangs gleaming, absolute fury in his eyes, in the set of his jaw. The crowd parted as he moved forward, the first sensible thing they’d done.
He gave Tomas a long and somber look, but moved to me first.
“Are you all right?” he asked when he reached me.
“I’m . . . fine.” I rubbed my forehead, which had the benefit of covering my eyes. “Just a little dizzy. I don’t know who slapped me, but he had some power. Just stings.”
I wasn’t too dizzy to be nervous that my father had seen the monster, to be worried that I’d been discovered. That others would have seen it peeking through and would be just as horrified.
“I’ll be fine in a few minutes. Dad, this was like . . . mass hysteria.”
“So I see,” he said, then turned his gaze back to Tomas.
Around him, the scene began to order itself as onlookers stepped back, moved away. As if keeping vigil, my father kept somber eyes on Tomas until Theo and Petra joined him and began working to preserve what they could of the scene.
“I’m going to take a minute,” I said to no one in particular.
Still holding myself in check, I walked into the grass, kept going until I’d reached a copse of shadowed trees. I reached out to touch one, dug fingers into the bark, and found focusing on the sensation—and the pain—made the anger and fury recede.
When my heart slowed, I pulled my hand back. I’d left deep white gouges in the bark.
“Those look like claw marks.”
I spun around, found Connor standing behind me.
“Just some extra energy to burn off,” I said, hating the monster for the necessity of the lie.
His expression didn’t change. “Your eyes. They were red. They’re silver now,” he added, probably having felt the punch of my suddenly panicked magic. “And I doubt anyone else noticed given the chaos. This was . . . what happened before?”
Another memory flashed—this time, the reason the monster had first overpowered me. Because she’d lain on the sidewalk like a broken doll. One of the men had held her backpack. The other had looked down at her with sickening interest, his smile twisted. And I hadn’t even tried to hold back the rage.
There was compassion and concern in Connor’s eyes. I’d have understood admonishment or horror, and they might have made me feel better. I could stop being angry at myself, let someone else take over. But I hadn’t earned anyone’s compassion, and I didn’t understand what to make of the sentiment coming from him, of all people.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, refusing to engage. But when I started to walk away from him, he grabbed my arm.
“It was the same thing,” he said. “It still affects you.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. You can tell me.”
I looked up at him for a long time, into a face that was almost unfairly handsome and eyes that looked like they’d seen their share of darkness.
Ironic, wasn’t it, that the boy who’d driven me crazy for most of my life—and vice versa—was the only one who knew the truth? The only one I could unburden myself to.
And much as I wanted to pretend that what had just happened hadn’t actually happened, the secret—and the power—was eating me alive from the inside. So I let myself say the word, and it still felt heavy on my lips.