When they’d left Chicago it’d been ten o’clock in the evening.
So had they gone back in time or forward?
Or did the sun never set here?
She needed to find out.
Fallon slowly turned back to meet Sally’s curious gaze. “No, it’s because you’re . . . alive.”
Well that was true enough. She was most certainly alive, although it’d been a close call on more occasions than she wanted to remember.
“No thanks to my parents,” she agreed with a wry smile.
“No one’s more surprised than I am that I survived their separate efforts to get me killed.”
“Oh, it’s not that. We had no idea that Father had—”
“Created a mongrel?” she helpfully supplied.
“Created a sister for us.”
Sister. Sally tested the word in her mind. It felt . . . strange. But terrifyingly wonderful.
“Then I’m confused,” she said. “You said you were surprised I’m alive.”
“No, we’re fascinated by the life force that shimmers around you.”
Sally blinked. “Oh.”
“You’re a vivid burst of energy that is nearly blinding,” Fallon continued. “We have all become too complacent with our existence. We drift from day to day, barely noticing that we have forgotten to live.”
Sally tried to be sympathetic. Not easy when she’d spent most of her life being hunted like an animal.
“A peaceful existence can’t be all bad.”
“Peace is different from stasis,” Fallon pointed out, her calm demeanor not entirely disguising a bone-deep frustration that gnawed deep inside her. “We have forgotten the thrill of not knowing what will happen next. The breathless excitement of passion. The beauty of a future filled with endless possibilities.” She smiled with a wistful yearning. “For us, you are a breath of fresh air.”
Sally moved toward her sister. She might not fully understand how anyone could not be content growing up in a family that at least seemed to care for one another and surrounded by such beauty, but she better than anyone understood that outward appearances meant nothing.
“Fallon, are you not happy here?” she asked softly.
The young female heaved a faint sigh. “I will admit that I have longed for the opportunity to travel away from our homeland.”
That didn’t seem such an outrageous dream. Unless females weren’t allowed to travel away from their family?
Many demon societies were still obnoxiously dominated by males.
“Have you discussed this with your fiancé?” she cautiously probed. The last thing she wanted was to stir a mutiny between Fallon and the crimson-haired warrior who she’d introduced as her soon-to-be mate.
Fallon instantly shook her head. “He would not understand.”
“He would if he loves you.”
“Love?” Her sister looked baffled by the mere concept of a love match. “Our marriage will be the joining of two powerful houses. Nothing more. The Chatri no longer seek their true mates.”
Sally tried not to grimace.
She was beginning to understand her sister’s desire to travel away from paradise.
What woman wouldn’t want a fling before being forced into a loveless marriage that was destined to last an eternity?
“That’s terrible,” she muttered.
Fallon shrugged. “It’s our tradition.”
“But . . .” Sally forgot what she was going to say when the chime of a bell echoed through the room. “What’s that?”
Her sister stiffened, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip with a nervous gesture that was identical to Sally’s habit.
“You must swear not to tell anyone,” she at last said, her voice so low Sally could barely hear her.
Sally nodded, deeply curious. “I swear.”
Hurrying across the room, Fallon locked the door before moving to a heavy tapestry that was hung on a far wall.
“Watch this.”
Fallon tugged aside the tapestry and pressed her hand against the paneled wall. There was a faint glow around her fingers before a hidden door slid open.
Sally raised her brows in shock. “A secret room?”
Fallon nodded, motioning for Sally to follow as she stepped through the door.
Intrigued, Sally swiftly trailed behind her sister, not certain what to expect.
Probably a good thing since she would never have guessed it would be a barren room that had been carved from pure stone. There were no windows, but fairy lights danced in the shadows of the low ceiling, revealing the numerous wooden bowls that had been carefully arranged on the stone floor.
Each bowl was a different size and made from a different wood, but they each held a shallow pool of water.
“Wow.” Sally gave a bemused laugh. “It’s like the Batcave.”
Fallon frowned. “The . . . ah. Batman. That is a human television show, is it not?”
“Yes.” Sally studied her sister in surprise. “How did you know?”
“My talent is to scry beyond our homeland,” Fallon said. “I have long been intrigued by your world.”
Ah. That explained the bowls. Sally had a basic ability to scry, but she needed an anchor to direct her, like a strand of hair to connect her to the person she was searching for. Not to mention the fact that it drained her to the point of exhaustion to maintain one search.
She shook her head in wonder at the images that flickered nonstop on the surface of the water in each bowl.
The amount of energy each scry must be sucking from Fallon was staggering, but she didn’t look the least affected.
Amazing.
“So why the secrecy?” she asked, knowing she’d be eager to display such talent.
Fallon’s smile faded. “My . . . fiancé disapproves of my interest.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Fallon tried to pretend indifference. “It doesn’t matter.”
It did, of course. But what could Sally say?
She didn’t know enough about her sister’s relationship with her fiancé to offer any advice.
“What is the beeping?” she asked.
Fallon moved toward a large bowl in the center of the floor. “Someone is near the entrance to our homeland. I made a warning device.”
Very clever. A damned shame she felt she had to hide her talents.
Absently joining Fallon, Sally glanced down at the bowl, her heart slamming against her ribs as she caught sight of the dark-haired vampire with pale silver eyes and a fierce expression.