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a last trickle of blood from his shoulder. “Yeah, there’s that.”
    “Every time we do this, I get stronger.” Lucas’s eyes met mine.
    “I get closer to being—to being what you are. To understanding, maybe. Without having to turn into a vampire myself.”
    Each bite gave Lucas a little more vampire strength. His hearing had sharpened and his strength had increased—but heneither healed faster nor craved blood. The mystery of what it meant to be prepared for vampirism but not yet a vampire: That was one way in which we were truly and fully the same.
    Well, not the only way.
    I bent low and whispered, “I love you, Lucas.”
    “Love you, too.” Tiredly he clasped my hand in his, and for a while we simply sat together, wordless, needing nobody else in the world.
     
    Once Lucas felt reasonably steady and the bite mark on his shoulder had stopped bleeding, he put his T-shirt on again and we joined the others. We must have looked rumpled—a couple people snickered, and Dana waggled her eyebrows at us. I didn’t care if they thought we’d sneaked off to have sex. What we felt for each other was too pure to be turned into anything tacky or cheap.
    Besides, I felt better than I’d felt in weeks. Lucas seemed a little bleary, and his skin was definitely pale, but he could walk steadily. He put his arm around my shoulders for support initially, but kept it there all during our long ride home.
    We’ll be all right, I thought as he rested his head against mine. Taking a deep breath, I could smell the cedar scent of his skin, tinged slightly with the delicious saltiness of blood. It’s going to be okay soon.
    After we returned to HQ and stowed our gear, we walked in to see that someone was waiting for us—Eduardo, who leaned against one of the cement pillars. In his hands he held a coffeecan. I didn’t think anything of it, except that it was kind of weird to be making coffee so late at night. But the moment Lucas saw it, he stopped in his tracks. “That’s mine,” he said.
    “You have an interesting definition of what’s yours.” Eduardo tossed the can upward, caught it lazily. The scars on his cheeks looked harsh in the overhead lights. “Because the way I see it, in Black Cross we have a rule. Everything we do is for the good of the group.”
    Eduardo then peeled back the plastic lid of the coffee can to reveal a roll of cash.
    “Hoarding money,” he said. “How is that for the good of the group?”
    Oh, no, I thought. Lucas’s savings. The money he was going to use to get us out of here.
    “How is going through my private stuff for the good of the group?” Lucas’s eyes blazed as he stalked up to Eduardo. As his voice got louder, it echoed off the concrete walls. “What, were you going to steal from me?”
    Eduardo shook his head. “It’s not stealing if it’s not rightfully yours to begin with. And it isn’t. Money like this should be used for Black Cross purposes. Not to—take your girlfriend out on Saturday nights.”
    “Since when do I ever get to take Bianca out? Since when do you guys let us spend more than ten minutes alone together?”
    “Free time is something you don’t have. You’re a soldier, Lucas. Have you forgotten that?”
    “Hey!” Kate came hurrying toward them, her hair wet fromthe shower and her blouse buttoned up wrong. Apparently somebody had come to fetch her to break it up. A small crowd had gathered—obviously interested but not taking sides. “What’s going on?”
    Lucas’s fists were clenched at his sides. “Eduardo’s stealing from me.”
    “Lucas is hoarding cash.”
    “You went through his stuff? Jesus, Eduardo.” Kate snatched the coffee can of cash from him, and for the first time I saw Eduardo looking really embarrassed. “I don’t expect you to be a father to Lucas, but I also don’t expect you to act like his jealous kid brother.”
    “I’m not the one being immature here!”
    “Yes, you are,” Kate snapped back. “You know why?