“I didn’t see a thing.” My damn voice cracks. I don’t know why I deny it. I came back here for answers. It must be the basic instinct to pretend everything is the way you’d thought. It’s probably why so many people refuse to accept that vampires are real. But I’m not one of those people. I can make leaps that others won’t.

Aristelle’s head snaps in my direction. “She’s going to bolt.”

Xander takes a step closer to me.

Aristelle rises slowly from the table and stalks toward me.

I consider fleeing like prey. I’m standing in a room with people who aren’t quite human. I feel that truth in the tremble in my limbs that screams at me to go, go, go. Maybe they are vampires. Maybe vampires have magic, and that’s why Mom didn’t want me asking about the real stuff. Maybe she knew a lot about vampires, and that’s why they killed her. I don’t know. The real vampires didn’t give up a lot of details during their ten minutes of fame, so all I know are myths and legends and movies. Maybe vampires walk in sunlight and play with cards.

But I don’t think so. If they were vampires, they had plenty of time to rip my throat out.

This is something else.

This is what Mom wrote about. It wasn’t hyperbole or fantasy. She was talking about this.

I need to know. The bird girl slides into a seat at the table next to the girl dressed in green. Both give me small smiles, so I take the open end of the bench next to them while Xander and Aristelle sit across from me. I sit down a little too hard.

“Okay, then,” Aristelle says.

Xander puts a hand on her arm. “Let’s give her a minute to settle in.”

“We don’t have a minute.” Aristelle jerks her arm away from him.

“Yes, we do.” Xander turns a tight smile on me and then waves a hand at the girl in the green dress. “This is Diantha.”

Her green dress shimmers as she twists slightly toward me and smiles, warm and inviting even though she says nothing. She’s gorgeous as always. I pull at the hem of my sweatshirt.

“Briar and Bridgette.” Twin girls with white-blond hair shift their sky-blue eyes on me. They don’t smile. They seem disappointed that Aristelle didn’t burn me.

“Reina.” The bird girl reaches across Diantha and pats me on the arm.

“Sorry about your birds,” I mumble.

“They’re fine.” She winks.

“And, of course, Aristelle.” Xander gives her a dramatic little bow, like he’s introducing her onstage. She looks as if she could burst into flames again at any moment.