Free Balthazar by Claudia Gray

on.
    â€œIt’s getting late,” Balthazar said. His attention was fixed outside the window now. Had he seen something? “After midnight. Sometimes that’s when Redgrave likes to strike.”
    â€œWho is Redgrave, exactly?” Bianca asked.
    â€œA vampire I know. Not someone you ever want to meet.”
    So—Balthazar clearly cared about Bianca, but he hadn’t told her everything about himself. Not even the few snippets of his past that Skye had learned the last couple of days. That was interesting… Wait. Had he said Redgrave was about to strike?
    Skye said, “Are they coming right now?”
    â€œThey’ll be more likely to come after they think you’ve gone to bed.” Balthazar went to her lamp and snapped it off. Instantly, her room went from cheerily bright to shadows, illuminated only by Bianca’s faint aquamarine glow.
    â€œHold on—we’re trying to get them to come in? Is that really a good plan?”
    â€œThey’re going to come,” Balthazar said. “Better now, when we’re expecting it, than later when we aren’t.”
    Which was logical, if terrifying. Skye slowly nodded. “We ought to get it over with now, before … before my parents get home. I don’t want them in the middle of this.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” Bianca said. She was fading into transparency, her glow hardly more than a shimmer now. “Balthazar’s here if I fail.”
    Bianca was their first line of defense? What exactly were they planning?
    The last of the blue-green glow faded. Though Skye knew Bianca must still be there, she was now invisible and silent. Moonlight off the snow provided enough light at the window for her to see Balthazar’s outline, a broad, reassuring shadow. She stepped toward him, seeking both safety and comfort. He remained utterly motionless.
    Her entire house had never seemed so quiet. Though Skye knew two others were in the room with her, neither of them was breathing. No wind was blowing, so even the usual rushing sound of the breeze through the trees was absent. The silence surrounding her was complete—
    â€”so much that, from one floor up, Skye was able to hear a faint scratching, then a pop of metal on metal. And, as her heartbeat sped up and her breathing became shallow, she even heard the soft creak of the back door being opened.

The Time Between: Interlude One
    December 29, 1776
    Trenton, New Jersey
    IN ALL HIS MANY YEARS IN NEW ENGLAND, Balthazar had never known a winter as bleak as this. The snow lay on the frozen ground, nearly two feet thick, soft even weeks after falling because the sun had not provided enough warmth to melt any of it, however briefly, and create ice. It muffled sound and made the terrain unfamiliar. Roads and towns he had known for over a century were strangers to him now.
    Redgrave disliked the snow. Bloodstains showed too easily, as did their tracks.
    â€œAnd yet there’s nothing like a war for business,” Redgrave said for the thousandth time that winter. He lounged in front of the fire in the small inn where they’d taken up residence. Between the foul weather and the nearby hostilities, Redgrave and his tribe were the only guests—and thank God. “You’ll never eat your fill as often with less trouble than you will during wartime, I promise you that, my little darling.”
    Redgrave’s long fingers stroked through Charity’s fair curls as though she were his pet cat. Balthazar’s gut churned; watching Redgrave touch his younger sister in that way had never ceased to disgust him, though at least—after nearly a century and a half—Charity no longer flinched.
    â€œWe should head south,” Constantia said, leaning her head back against Balthazar’s chest. He resisted the urge to push her away—that never worked, not for long, and defiance created more trouble than it was worth. Her gown was the height of