Page 35 of Fangs, Frost, and Folios
“Sadia is Syrian but not Muslim. Her birth parents were Orthodox and her adoptive parents are Catholic. And I don’t think there’s any kind of ChristianorMuslim coming-of-age ceremony in Syria when you hit puberty.” Dema shrugged. “I didn’t have one. About the only thing that kind of marked that time was I decided I wanted to wear a hijab.” She touched the edge of her headscarf. “And that was mostly because my older sistersdidn’twear it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, my parents left it up to us. And I was the youngest, so I wanted to be different. Plus my boobs grew right around that time and I felt self-conscious.”
Tenzin cocked her head. “You felt self-conscious about your breasts?” She looked at them. “They’re not particularly sizable.”
Ben bit his lip to keep from laughing.
“Thanks.” Dema’s expression didn’t change. “They weren’t big, but I was like the first girl in my class that had to wear a bra and I hated it.” She shrugged. “I felt like the hijab made people take me more seriously. It made me feel grown-up.”
Tenzin nodded carefully. “What do you think would make Sadia feel grown-up?”
Ben sat up straight. “Actually, that’s a really good question.”
“Don’t sound surprised,” Tenzin said. “I have a lot of them because I’m much older than you.”
Dema took a long breath and let it out slowly. “You know, she’s already mature for her age, so the main thing I’d say she struggles with is feeling out of place at school. She’s just not the typical twelve-year-old.”
“You think she’d want a party or something? With her friends?” Ben wouldn’t have pegged his little sister for a party animal.
“No,” Dema continued. “I think she takes pride in being different. Whatever you do, don’t play into any teenage-girl stereotypes. In fact, I’d say the stranger the better.”
Tenzin’s eyes lit up. “Make it weird?”
Dema nodded. “Yeah. The weirder the better. She’s her mother’s daughter whether she wants to admit it or not. Find some ancient coming-of-age tradition that no one has practiced in a thousand years or something and she’ll probably think it’s cool. Especially if blood is involved.”
“God help me,” Ben muttered.
Eleven
The heavy metal door that opened led to another wooden door like the one portrayed in the painting.
“For God’s sake, open it,” Elise said, still holding the gun to Barnes’s ribs.
He stepped forward and pulled the large brass knob, but the room beyond was cloaked in darkness.
“There is a light switch just inside on the right wall.” Barnes straightened his shoulders.
“So turn it on.”
The old man stepped into the darkness, and a second later, the light turned on.
Beatrice could see paintings hanging on the walls.
“Okay, everyone in!” Elise motioned to the vampires holding René, then at Beatrice. “Same order. Vampires first.”
As Beatrice walked into the vault, she heard Barnes speak.
“Take what you will, but the young earl knew nothing of any of this. I beg you to leave him unharmed.”
“And you, old man? You never liked me.”
“I admit I had my reservations about you, and clearly they have been proven correct.”
Beatrice walked to the far wall of the Mortimer vault and turned, keeping her hands visible.
They’re going to lock us in.
