Page 24 of Thrall
Lucy had to marvel, in the quiet that followed, at what her sharpened senses could pick up in the absence of other sound. She could hear the itch of everyone’s heartbeats. Natalie’s hard and loud. Mila’s metronome beats. Pallas’s much faster than she would have thought, looking at her placid face.
But despite the breathless patter of her pulse, she was smiling. “First things first,” she said. “Why don’t we all sit down. Relax, to the extent possible.”
Sitting appeared to be the last thing Natalie and Mila wanted to do. But Mila was the first to obey, perching on the edge of the bench directly opposite Lucy with her bow resting neatly across her lap. Lucy quietly filed away the fact that despite all Mila’s easy confidence, it seemed she deferred to Pallas. Even when she looked a bit reluctant to do so.
Lucy settled onto the bench closest to her. Natalie remained standing. “Natalie,” Lucy murmured, lightly patting the spot next to her. “It’s okay.”
“We’ll see about that,” Natalie muttered. But eventually, she complied.
Resting her hands on her thighs, Pallas turned to Natalie. “Why don’t we start with your name? I think the rest of us have been introduced.”
It wasn’t admonishment, exactly, but Natalie squirmed at it anyway. “Natalie Baker.”
“You hosted the party,” Pallas said. This was, as Lucy noticed, a statement rather than a question.
Natalie seemed to notice that, too. Her uncharacteristic discomfort deepened. “I did,” she said. “I don’t like it when people hurt my friends. Particularly on my watch.”
“It wasn’t a person that hurt your friend,” Mila said. At Natalie’s curt nod, she added, “But you came anyway?”
“You know what hurt her,” Natalie shot back. “And you still came, too.”
Mila ran one absent finger down the curve of her bow. “I’ve considered what could happen to me,” she said. “I don’t know that you have.”
Natalie looked unruffled. “My ex once said that I had a ‘yes, and’ mentality.”
Mila laughed. It was a short, harsh sound. “I don’t know that you can improv your way out of this one.”
“Mila, she’s already here,” Pallas said. “We need all the help we can get.”
Mila didn’t seem entirely sure about that. But as before, she deferred to Pallas.
Another silence followed, this one much less deliberate than the last. As if they’d each realized, in roughly the same moment, that it was time to stop stalling.
“Lucy.” Pallas turned. It was the first time, Lucy thought, that Pallas had looked at her dead-on since she arrived. “You don’t have to be nervous.”
Lucy laughed warily. “Just feeling a little—exposed.”
Pallas nodded slowly. “Does it help if I tell you that this is one of the safest places on campus?”
Natalie perked up. “Because of the religious buildings?”
“Not exactly. Not for our friend, at least,” Pallas said. “Turns out that horror stories are just as susceptible to church propaganda as anything else. Figures, right? The idea that religious objects are supposed to protect you—crosses, holy water—I’m not sure if that messaging came from the church itself, or if that was just the God-fearing public trying to self-soothe. But either way, it isn’t true. As far as I’ve been able to tell from my research, Christian iconography only works if the vampire itself was a Christian in life. It’s a placebo effect. If you think God can hurt you, then maybe He can.
“But when it comes to our friend—it doesn’t seem like he was a believer.” Something in Pallas’s face clouded, then cleared. “Anyway. It’s actually that ‘no entry’ tape doing the heavy lifting. Some of the lore is true: Theydoneed to be invited in. And the university hung the tape. I still don’t know if that means that President Ballard would have to extend the invitation, or the construction workers—but either way, it means we’re safe here.”
Lucy glanced over at the aforementioned, terrifyingly fragile tape. “That feels like a very narrow loophole.”
“Oh, it works,” Pallas said lightly. “Unfortunately, I’ve tested it in person. Completely by accident.”
Lucy waited for her to continue. But Pallas didn’t elaborate. And her silence had an expectant quality.
It was Lucy’s turn to speak then.
“Have you seen him?” Lucy finally said. It felt like a hilariously inadequate way to ask what she was really asking.
“I did,” Pallas said. “Two years ago.”
Lucy sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Did he—”
