Page 9 of A Song in the Night

A sense of urgency breathes down my neck now, and I keep glancing toward the clock. When the hands reach midnight, I borrow one of the vampires’ coats—Noah’s crisp cologne clings to the material—and slip out the door, making sure to lock it behind me. It’s an odd thing to realize, but I’ve never really had a key before. Not when I lived at the mansion or the boardinghouse, and even when I stayed at the hotel, the key to my room was programmed into an app on my phone. It feels oddly comforting, to have a place I know I can return to where I won’t be locked out.

Wisps of clouds hover in front of the moon. Keeping my head down to avoid notice, I make the trek to Ada’s boardinghouse, determined to keep my word to Drew—even if I’m the last person Nina wants to see.

I’d also like to see Ada again. We haven’t spoken since Drew’s memorial, the same night I found out that she’s Alexander’s sister. I still have so many questions.

The closer I get to the boardinghouse, though, the more my heart rate quickens. When the house eventually comes into view, I hesitate, thinking about how I didn’t exactly leave this place on good terms. Ada may have extended an olive branch, but that doesn’t mean the other tenants feel the same.

After several deep breaths, I force myself to keep moving until I’m standing at the front door. Before I can lift my hand to knock, it opens to reveal a messy-haired Benjamin, who appears to be on his way out as he shrugs on a jacket.

“Hey, stranger,” he says, grinning wide.

A relieved smile touches my lips. “Hey, Ben. How are you?”

He shrugs, zipping up his jacket and shoving his hands into the pockets. “Pretty good, I guess. What are you doing here?”

I peer past him without moving forward. “Just checking in. Is Nina around?”

“I think she’s in her room.” Ben glances upward. He slides past me and leaves me standing in the doorway. “See you later, hopefully.”

“Bye.”

As he bounds down the steps, I roll my bottom lip between my teeth and linger on the porch.Should I let myself in? I feel strange about walking inside without an invitation. I don’t live here anymore, and there’s no Andrew Hayes to be my knight in shining armor.

It’s the thought of Drew that propels me across the threshold. Closing the door softly, I walk down the long hallway and hurry upstairs, only stopping once I’m standing in the doorway of what used to be my room.

The small space hasn’t changed, but the tiny bed is bare of pillows and blankets and the air is stale. The fact Ada didn’t immediately rent out my room, after that dramatic night she kicked me out, speaks volumes—maybe she isn’t as prickly as she’d have everyone believe. Drew even said as much, once upon a time.

Before the sorrow can set in, I notice the cat sleeping on the windowsill. A soft laugh escapes me. He doesn’t bother extending a greeting or even opening his eyes.

Overcome with nostalgia, I enter the room and sink onto the lumpy mattress. It creaks under my weight, and I smile at the familiar sound.Some things never change.Closing my eyes, I push my hearing outward and focus on the direction of Nina’s room.

She’s listening to music, probably on her phone. She hums along quietly, and the sound of tapping muffles the lyrics—probably her fingers on the screen.

While I know better than anyone that grief ebbs and flows, coming and going in unpredictable waves, Nina seems as well as can be expected. I’m not sure what I was bracing myself for. Crying. Listlessness. Fury.

Suddenly the bed dips, and my eyes snap open to find the cat stretching next to me. I stroke its arched back for a few minutes before getting up to leave, its blissful purring filling my ears. I’ve kept my word to Drew, but it’s time I get out of here before I run into someone who won’t be as happy to see me as Ben was.

I step into the hall and turn to pull the door shut.

“I didn’t expect to see you around here.” Ada’s warm voice makes me jump, and I quickly turn. She walks toward me with a steaming mug of what smells like chamomile tea in her hand.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I was checking on Nina, but… never mind. I’m leaving now.”

“Take a breath, girl.” Nodding toward the stairs, my aunt adds, “If you want to join me for tea, I’ll put the kettle back on.”

I hesitate for a moment, then realize I’m not in a rush to leave this place that’s so warm and familiar, in spite of how my time ended here. Most of my memories that took place within these walls are good. “That would be really nice,” I say.

A few minutes later, the two of us sit in the small, outdated kitchen, and I’m reminded of the night I came here. It feels like a lifetime ago.

“I heard about the auction,” Ada says, sipping her tea. “Danielle Winters did a feature on you last week.”

This is the first I’m hearing of it. Grimacing, I wrap my fingers around the mug she set in front of me. “Great. Yeah, it’s been—”

“Living with hunters is dangerous,” she cuts in.

Weeks ago, her tone might’ve made me bristle. But I’ve come to learn this is Ada’s way—she’s brisk in everything she does, almost curt, and she doesn’t care if her words or behavior offend someone. The same could be said for Nina and Sylvia, but there’s something even harder about Ada Travesty. Maybe it’s her royal blood, or whatever she endured that led to this life in Oldbel.

“I don’t exactly have a choice,” is all I say. Sure, Sylvia is on me about finding my life’s purpose, but the fact remains that they own me for the time being.

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