The Night House by Rachel Tafoya Page A

It’s the trying part that really feels good.”
    I smile at her. “Like trying a new instrument?”
    “Yeah.” She brightens up. “When I switched to bass it was like, this feels right. I know I still have my guitar, but now I get to change things up. You know, without going overboard.”
    “So if you drop everything and become some kind of wandering minstrel, we’ll know we have a real problem?” Shy jokes, but the worry is still there, hiding under his calm.
    Ally laughs, and it’s a good sound. “I can’t write song lyrics, man, you know that.”
    He smiles at her. I remember when he tried to explain why he had a crush on her. Shiloh is the reliable guy. The dependable one. He loves Ally’s impulsiveness. Makes him think he can be more creative, like her. He sells himself short, of course. Even though Ally doesn’t admit it, she needs Shiloh to be himself. We both do.
    He is our rock.
    When the food is eaten, Ally leaves us for Shell’s house. “I owe her an apology for leaving her party so early.”
    I hold onto Ally’s relaxed state of mind for as long as I can.
    “You really think finding her is a good idea?” Shiloh asks me as we get closer to my house.
    “I think…it’s what I want to do,” I tell him.
    “You still have hope?” he asks, a bit of a smug smile edging onto his face.
    “I have to. Even if she can’t help me. Even if I can’t help her. I have to try something, right?”
    He pats me on the back. “Yeah. It’ll make the next time easier.”
    “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Bianca
     
    When night falls, the guests of honor begin to arrive. Jeremiah is one of the first inside. He flashes me an unsettling, handsome smile before greeting Finn. I often wish Jeremiah were ugly. It would make it easier somehow. He disappears down the hallway with another vamp dressed in black robes. I vaguely recognize a few old clients as bodies fill the room, but most of them are strangers. Beautiful, terrifying strangers.
    Alex nudges me. “Finn’s got a date.”
    I see him talking to a vamp in a white suit. I recognize him: Caesar. We don’t know his real name, but Caesar is what he goes by when he’s pretending to be human. There’s nothing he loves more than reveling in how he’s fooled the human population, how easy it is to infiltrate their systems. Apparently, he holds some position in human government, but part of me thinks he’s all talk. He comes often, and rarely shuts up long enough to actually feed. He enjoys his own voice more than blood.
    The real treat is seeing him talk to Finn, or rather seeing him lecture Finn and watching Finn try to get away. Caesar is loud and I watch him clap Finn on the shoulder, barking, “Eh, Finn?” and laughing heartily. His reprieve comes in the form of a female vamp dressed in a gorgeous satiny black gown. She flows into the room and seems to take up much more space than she actually does. Her skin is like alabaster and her hair black as oil. The smile plastered onto her lips is practiced, perfect, sinister. She breaks up their chat instantly, drawing Caesar to her like a magnet.
    Soon there are about twenty vamps packed into the guest lounge, with more still coming in. They mingle amongst themselves, chatting, but they also come to stare at us. They examine us, discussing which of us they’d like to feed from.
    “This is nuts,” Alex whispers out the corner of her mouth. “Like some kind of movie premiere.”
    “I know,” I breathe. “Maybe Dracula will show up.”
    She snorts and elbows me. “Or Anne Rice.”
    “Nosferatu?”
    “The Count, from Sesame Street!” she exclaims and immediately slaps a hand over her mouth. I try not to laugh and wind up pulling a weird face like I just bit into a lemon. Finn walks by and clears his throat pointedly, which only makes it funnier.
    The vampire in black robes reenters the lounge. Everyone goes silent. He slowly makes his way to the front of the room seemingly taking in every face