Falling to Ash (33 page)
Well, OK, it might have crossed my mind once or twice. But, in all honesty, I was mostly thinking about that terrible, lost expression on his face as he sat by his father’s body. Jace would be far away from here by now, taking the break he needed to get his head straight. Maybe even going back to school, but I doubted that somehow. He’d talked about there being a ‘network’ of
independent
hunters across the US. I worried about whether or not he might feel it was his duty to take on Daddy’s mantle for real. I was glad he didn’t know how his father’s body had been mutilated before burial. It was probably for the best that he never found out.
Caitlín touched my hand and I glanced at her, dragging my attention back to the room. Jace was gone and I was here with my family – my real family. My little sister had finally gotten her wish: my return to the O’Neal home. And when she had awoken from her nightmarish experience, Theo had ensured she had no memory of how Kyle had trapped her. How the Enforcer had sent her into a sleep she might never have woken from were it not for my Maker’s help. I’d begged Theo not to take her recently acquired knowledge of what I had become. Incredibly, he agreed – although there had been a price attached. I had to promise him I would embrace my role within my new Family, and let go of the old ‘when the time came’.
Whenever that might be.
On the other side of the table, I caught Sinéad’s eye and wondered whether she was as pleased to see me as she’d seemed. My arrival had been a surprise. Caitlín didn’t give them any advance warning of my visit, partly because she wanted to catch them unawares, but also because she hadn’t truly believed me when I promised I really would make it this time. No matter how difficult I found it – I barely touched the food on my plate, for instance,
surreptitiously
feeding titbits to Oscar, making him a very happy dog – I should try to come more often while I was still able, so that I could keep an eye on her. She was too precious and I had almost lost her.
My dad, Rory O’Neal, sat diagonally across from me. As usual, he only had eyes for his youngest daughter, but that was fine by me. The less attention he gave me, the less likely it was that we would clash or that he’d start spewing nonsense about what he thought I was getting up to in the city. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and he was already drunk. Sometimes he was better that way; others . . . not so much. Today was a quiet day, and for that we could all be grateful.
I looked at each of my human family in turn and was left, as I always am, with the question: How do I come to terms with being made into a vampire? How does a mortal adjust to immortality?
And, as usual, there was no answer. No
simple
answer, anyway. Caitlín stared at me, concern flickering briefly in her eyes. I forced a smile. It would be OK. We’d work things out and get through this – somehow. Sure, this wasn’t the way my life was supposed to happen, and yet here I am. Trying my best to deal, mostly falling on my face – but always getting up again.
I raised my glass, nodding for her to do the same.
She held up her hand. ‘Wait – let me make the toast.’
‘Sure.’ I shrugged, wondering if Sinéad and Dad would join us.
Their glasses were already raised, waiting.
Caitlín smiled at everyone, but there was a special message in her eyes for me. ‘To new beginnings.
Slàinte
.’
I loved her more than ever in that moment and touched my glass to hers, tears shimmering in my eyes.
‘
Slàinte
,’ I replied.
The next day, I was surprised to find a package covered in foreign stamps resting on the floor outside my apartment door. It was too large to fit through the mail slot, and must have arrived while Holly was sleeping.
There was no return address. Any kind of delivery was bound to make me nervous considering how nobody was supposed to know where I lived. Apart from one person I could think of. I frowned, and if my heart could beat faster that’s exactly what it would be doing.
I sniffed the parcel, wondering if I’d be able to sense something wrong with it. How would I know if there was something dangerous inside?
Screw it, I thought.
Tearing open the package before I could change my mind, my eyes widened when I pulled out the contents.
I shook out the bright green T-shirt. It had a badly screen-printed image of a four-leafed clover on the back and a pint of Guinness on the front. I glanced down and
saw
that a piece of brightly colored card had fallen out when I’d unfolded the shirt.
Scooping it off the floor, I realized that it was a postcard from Dublin. I smiled at the handwritten note on the back, wondering what it meant for the future:
I owe you one
.
J
.
Acknowledgements
Bringing Moth’s novel to publication has been my dream since the first short story was originally published in the summer of 2009. Thanks are due to many people:
First of all, huge mega-thanks to Jessica Clarke, my editor. You saw the potential in this manuscript and helped me to craft a book out of it. Your patience is legendary!
To everyone at Random House Children’s Books. I love being part of the Family – thank you for all your hard work on my behalf. Particular thanks to Sue Cook, who caught so many errors and inconsistencies that I wish you could copy-edit every book I write from now on.
To my agent, Miriam Kriss, who has believed in Moth for as long as I have – knowing that you’re in my corner is the best thing that ever happened to my career. Thank you.
To the Deadline Dames – World Domination(tm) is just around the corner!
To Vijay Rana – life without you in it would be . . . boring.
Big thanks to all of my family and friends. There are simply too many people that I could single out by name, but then I’d no doubt forget somebody . . . and then where would I be? (Clue: in trouble.)
Having said that, I really must thank: Uncle Rob and Aunt Eileen for always cheering me on; cousin Carole, for being generally awesome; Jo and Dean for putting up with my appalling track record when it comes to visiting, because I have yet another deadline; Tricia Sullivan for always being there; Stephanie Kuehnert, for showing me that writing alongside someone really can be fun; Brian Kell for being Moth’s No. 1 fan; Candace Ellis for creative inspiration (#letsgoteamworkaholic); and Ana Grilo, who is just like a sister to me.
Last, but by no means least, to my mum – Mum, even though I’m supposed to be a writer, no words could ever do justice to how wonderful a person you are. I love you.
About the Author
Karen Mahoney
gave up on her dreams of being Wonder Woman a long time ago, but has instead settled for being a writer of urban fantasy. Her first novel, THE IRON WITCH, was published by Corgi in 2011. She has also been published alongside some of her favourite authors, in anthologies like THE ETERNAL KISS and KISS ME DEADLY. She lives in London, though she dreams of one day living in Boston.
Also by Karen Mahoney
The Iron Witch
The Wood Queen
Visit Karen at
FALLING TO ASH
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 9781446480199
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
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This ebook edition published 2012
Copyright © Karen Mahoney, 2012
First Published in Great Britain
Corgi Childrens 2012
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