Page 48 of Hidden

“Don’t tell me you’re fine, darling.” She doesn’t ask. She looks me over once and pours her drink out. “I wouldn’t believe you anyway.”

The laugh that falls out of me is full of grief for every belief I had.

“No,” I answer honestly. “And I’m guessing since you are asking me that question then you know…” I don’t intend for my voice to be as hard as it is when it comes out. “What exactly?”

“Well,” she says gently, setting her flute aside to face me. “No shoes. Stockings. Your dress is torn right here.” She fingers a loose thread.

I look down at myself for the first time since the locker room. No shoes. Stockings ruined. Dress torn where I did not feel it tear. I am a woman who takes inventory for a living, and I have not taken inventory of myself in five hours.

“But it’s the blood.” She swipes her finger along the bite mark. “The bite is almost healed now. The saliva in their mouth will heal the bite. It’ll feel tender for a few days, nothing more.”

My hand goes to my throat. I find skin. I move my fingers up. I find more skin. No punctures. There was a bruise the shape of a mouth under my jaw twenty minutes ago. I watched it in the glass of the rooftop door. I watched it.

“Vampires.”

She sighs as though she’s had this conversation a thousand times in as many languages.

“Are you so surprised?” she asks.

“Yes.” Even I can’t pretend that’s not naive. “My best friend Callie swore to me things were real. She saw something when she was younger.” I stop. The breath I take is the wrong size for the next sentence. “I dismissed her.”

Judy waits.

“She’s at home right now. Out cold, memories gone. Because of me. Because a vampire wants me. And the only thing I can think about is that I dismissed her story about seeing a vampire as a teen. About all of it.”

“Faulting yourself for your ignorance won’t get you anywhere,” Judy says harsher than I’d like. But she isn’t wrong. “All you can do is decide right now how to go on.” She glances out to the horizon. “Because eventually, they’ll know you remember. And then this all starts over.”

“How did you…” I trail off. “How did you know I’d need this conversation?”

“Come with us.”

That’s right, the job offer. “Where?”

“New Zealand,” she says. “There’s a cave there. Rumored to have information about the houses.”

“So this is what it actually is?” I ask her. “Rich people funding Angela’s vampire research.”

“Is that your takeaway?” She laughs, not at all offended. “Darling. I said no too.”

My face falls as she shows me her wrist and the faint birthmark there.

I grab her wrist, staring at proof that I am not the only one. “I don’t understand.”

“Let me tell you everything I know. Teach you.” She holds my hand in hers. “We don’t just acquire historical artifacts to bury the truth. We’re forever searching to understand who they are. And who we are?—”

I blink.

“What?”

“—and if you think Leif’s Coven is the only one that’ll seek you out, then you’re a fool.” She carries on like I didn’t just say anything.

I look at her. I mean really look at her.

I labeled a rich woman at a fundraiser as nothing more than another aging trophy wife bored with her daily grind.

But she’s more than that. And I was wrong. Again.

Her hint at others coming for me is what my brain snags on.