"Hon, your parents have always been horrible. At least this way," she gently said, "you get to feed them a steady diet of inappropriate vampire behavior."

Pleasant as that thought was, it didn't completely assuage the grief. I knew I needed to buck up, to let go of what I'd lost and find a way to survive, to thrive, in my new world. But how do you let go of a lifetime of plans? Of assumptions about your life, about who you were and who you were going to be?

While Mallory was more than willing to dole out advice and urge me to get over "my little quibbles" about having been made a vampire, she wouldn't discuss the trio's bizarre conclusion that she'd brought magic to Cadogan House, that she was a witch. I knew nothing about magic beyond what I'd learned from television and in the tidbits Mallory, in her fixation with the occult, managed to slip into conversation. And it scared me that my normally chatty roommate was avoiding the discussion. So, as I pulled the car into the garage, I tried again.

"Do you want to talk about the other thing?"

"As far as I'm concerned, there is no other thing."

"Come on, Mallory. They said you have magic. Do you feel like you're . . . different? I mean, if they're right, you must have felt something."

She got out of the car and slammed the door shut, and I winced on the Volvo's behalf as Mallory stormed to the sidewalk. "I don't want to talk about it, Merit."

I closed the garage door and followed her, both of us ignoring the black-clad guards who flanked the front door. They were virtually identical to the guards who stood point at the Cadogan gate, tall and gaunt with sleek swords at their sides. Whatever Ethan's faults, he was damn efficient.

We went into the house, which was comfortingly quiet and, present company excluded, vampire-free. Mallory faked a yawn and trudged toward the staircase. "I'm going to bed."

"Mallory."

She stopped at the bottom stair, turned, and looked at me with very little patience. "What?"

"Just - try to be careful. We don't have to talk about it now, but if this threat thing continues, or if Ethan learns anything more about who you are . . ."

"Fine."

As she started up the stairs, desperate to comfort her as she'd done for me, I threw out, "This could be a good thing, Mallory. You could have some special powers, or something."

She stopped and glanced back, her smile sardonic. "Given how I feel right now, I can only assume that my giving you the same bullshit platitudes earlier didn't help you, either." She walked up the stairs, and I heard the slam of her bedroom door. I went to my room and lay on my back on the double bed, staring at the rotating ceiling fan until dawn claimed me.