"My head feels like it's about to explode," I manage to mumble.
"What sort of vision did you have?" Ash asks. He sits on the edge of the bed and reaches out. Instead of taking my hand, he places his palm on the blanket beside me.
"Bad."
Amelia returns. "The matron is on her way. Oh, Maeve..." I'm immediately smothered by a huge hug from my best friend. Tears force their way from my eyes as the vision’s assault echoes in my mind.
I disentangle myself and try to sit.
"Katherine did this."
"Yes. We found traces of Confusion Powder on you. Katherine’s in a fuckload of trouble," says Ash.
I groan. "I'm going to mind control the girl into oblivion one day."
Andrei laughs. "I love that you're feisty even when you feel like crap."
Ash frowns. "You shouldn't do that, Maeve."
"I'm joking." Half-joking. "But she really fucked my head up."
"Theodora and Sofia will want to speak to you. Probably Tobias too," says Andrei. "What did you see?" I stare at his hands, then to his mouth. I remember. Everything. "Maeve."
"I saw a lot, but nothing." I rub my head. They all look at me as if I’m speaking a foreign language. "That makes no sense, does it? I mean that I saw snapshots of events."
"Were you there?" asks Jamie. "Inside the vision."
"This was like being in a horror sci-fi movie where I’m strapped to a chair and memories played on fast forward. Apart from this was the future, I think."
"Were we in the visions?" asks Jamie cautiously. I nod. "The same as usual for me?"
His death.
I lay my head back on the pillow. "If I talk about everything now, I'm scared the vision might start again. Can we leave this until later?"
Jamie's face shadows as I avoid the question, and Amelia rubs his arm.
"Were we all in your vision, Maeve?" Andrei's question is innocent but my vision of him isn’t. I close my eyes and rub them, but the feeling of his skin on mine sends a shiver of arousal through me.
I don't think last night’s kiss is the end of us.
"Maeve needs to rest," says the matron as she walks around the curtain. She’s grave-faced and holds a small cup of a liquid. The disgusting liquid that soothes my nerves and calms my mind.
The god-awful-tasting concoction that turns my stomach.
"I don’t want to rest here," I say in alarm. "I hate the smell."
She laughs lightly. "Drink this. Once you improve, you can return to your dorm room. Amelia will look after you, I'm sure."
Amelia nods solemnly, always one to take her duties seriously.
"Stay here another hour or two. Your friends can leave now they know you're safe." The matron tips her head to give a pointed look at the assembled bedside visitors.
I take the cup and stare at the contents, holding my breath.
There’s one good thing that comes from every bad thing thrown at us. As a group, we become closer, and unite despite our differences. Gulping down the liquid, I grimace.
Ash is here. He’s concerned. Part of us. Bad luck, Vincent.
Did the matron add something else to the healing liquid? A wooziness takes over, but this time the darkness is calm and the oblivion welcoming as my mind becomes free of visions and shadows.
Chapter Thirty
ANDREI
I keep seeing Maeve in my mind—screaming and thrashing around before she started convulsing. Then lying still while everybody around freaked out, including the ever-calm Theodora. My heart stopped when the possibility she’d died was whispered around the hall.
I will relive the moment I crouched down and touched Maeve’s cool skin for the rest of my life. The academy could’ve crumbled around us and I wouldn’t have noticed.
As instructed, we left Maeve in the infirmary, but I’m desperate to see her again. But I can't wait much longer as the long night heads towards dawn. Ash and the others have agreed to meet up in Walcott common room tomorrow before class. I’ve no choice but to wait until then. At least Maeve has others to comfort her.
Maeve. That kiss. I let go of my control around her, but I’m terrified where this could lead if we follow this new path. I’m lying to myself if I say I don't want to taste her blood, but I didn't lie to her when I told Maeve I see her as more. Our kiss was a unity. I’ve denied the raw connection to Maeve I saw the first time I laid eyes, because it leads to a frightening place.
A place Maeve is dragging me towards and I’m not sure if I want to go there.
The effect on my senses took hours to leave, as if I could still taste and smell her as I tried to sleep. At the time we kissed, I fought to switch off the blood-craving and focus on her taste and touch, and almost succeeded. But the urge crept into my mind the harder her heart beat, and the closer her blood moved to the surface.
If I hurt Maeve, that would be the end of me.
Katherine sits in the cafeteria, surrounded by her worshippers, acting like someone who’s wrongly convicted and on the verge of execution. Which is total bullshit because she should be in a lot more fucking trouble than she is.
How the fuck can she sit there as the wronged party after what she did to Maeve?
Katherine spent the evening trapped in Theodora’s room with Tobias, undergoing the bollocking of her lifetime. Ordinarily, Katherine would paint on a new face after an experience like hers, but today she’s deliberately left herself puffy-eyed from her crocodile tears.
"Look at Katherine," says Amelia through gritted teeth.
I bought Amelia a slice of cake. I heard people sometimes eat cake when they’re pissed off, but I’m confused because hers remains uneaten.
"No, thanks," mutters Ash. "I don’t want to look at her."
Jamie glowers.
"Raging bitch," I snarl. "She’s gone too far this time."
"Andrei," warns Amelia. "Don’t get involved."
I jerk my head around. "You’re going to let Katherine get away with this? Did you see what happened?"
"Yes," she hisses back, "it was awful, but I don’t think Katherine intended to hurt Maeve."
Ash splutters. "Why do you always stand up for her?"
"I’m not! But we’re not the ones responsible for handing out retribution." She nudges me and I break my staring. "Are you listening, Andrei?"
I grunt in response and scrutinise each person with her. Two vamps. Couple of witches. No Clive. Nothing special about how they look, but the witches are new to her clique. Hmm.
"Do we know who made the powder for her?" I ask. "Katherine doesn’t have the skills or knowledge for that."
Jamie taps his coffee stirrer on the table. "I’d guess Lorna. She’s a witch who’s big mates with Katherine recently."
"Which one is she?" I sit upright.
"The one who’s dressed like Katherine. As if a witch could be a lamia clone," Amelia says with a sneer.
I flick my nails against my teeth and watch through narrowed eyes as the Lorna girl fawns over Katherine. This girl is who I need to ‘have words’ with.
"I bet Katherine didn’t need to use mental influence on Lorna, either," adds Jamie.
"Why?"
"She’s part of a Walcott group who don’t like Maeve."
I sit straighter. "You think she deliberately wanted to hurt Maeve?"
"She better fucking hadn’t," growls Ash.
We glance at each other. We may not agree on much, but where Maeve is concerned, we share the same motivation. Keep her safe.
"Jamie?" I ask. "Amelia?"
They both shrug. I huff and slump back in my seat. The Dominion think Confederacy are wrong to mix the races? They should thank them—the division caused by throwing together a load of opposing teenagers grows daily.
I don’t believe Katherine is malicious to the extent she’d hurt Maeve. She slipped up once, when she hurt Amelia, and had a lucky escape. Only I know what Katherine did to Amelia on the night Matt lost control. I told Katherine what I saw, and she was genuinel
y terrified I’d drop her in the shit and she’d face serious consequences. Since that day, Katherine won’t dare cross me.
No, Katherine’s bullying is insidious. For her own ends. Not to cause harm. Katherine wasn’t aware what would happen—or she’s too stupid to consider what the powder might do.
But what about Lorna? I pull on my bottom lip as I watch Katherine’s group, no longer hearing the conversation happening at my table.
Lorna knew.
I hang back from the others when we leave, and I loiter in the quiet hallway outside the cafe.
Katherine refuses to meet my eyes when she walks out, sweeping down the hallway with her vamp friends hurrying to catch up. Tightening my jaw, I wait for the witch to head in the opposite direction towards Walcott.
Lorna appears, oblivious to me as she types on her phone. I don’t know much about her, since I rarely interact with Walcott, and the average-looking girl with straight brown hair blends into the uniformed kids in class. I wait for Katherine’s voice to fade and footsteps echo into the distance, before I stride after Lorna.
Catching up, I walk past her then double back and halt, forcing Lorna to stop almost face to face with me.
She sneers down at me. "What?"
"You helped Katherine."
"I help Katherine with a lot of things. Is there something you’d like help with, Andrei?" she asks sweetly.
"No. Tell me what happened to Maeve."
"Everybody saw. She had some kind of fit."
"Don’t act like you don’t know. You made that powder for Katherine, didn’t you?"
Shaking her head, she steps past me. Or tries. I move to stop her walking away, and stand as close to her as I find comfortable.
Sometimes, a witch’s blood tempts me because I’m intrigued by how it would taste. Lorna’s? I’d like to spill.
I take a deep breath, fighting the side of me that whispers evil intent, thanks to my mother’s blood in my veins. I avoid anything that provokes my emotions, resisting the urge to let them control me.
No. I can scare Lorna enough to satisfy my vengeful need to hurt someone who’s damaged Maeve.
"You made a magic powder for Katherine, which made Maeve very sick."
"Maeve is very sick. She’s a freak."
"Did you know what the Confusion Powder would do to her?"
Lorna runs her tongue across her teeth and her heart rate stays steady. She doesn’t give a crap.
"There was a risk, yes."
Like this is some kind of failed experiment?
"Don’t bullshit me. You knew this shit would hurt Maeve."
She waves a hand. "Anything that has mind-altering properties has side effects, Andrei."
"Didn’t you think what that might do to someone like Maeve?"
Lorna’s eyes narrow. "‘Someone like Maeve’? A freak. She doesn’t belong here, and she’s dangerous. My dad is on the witches' council and they’re worried that—" Lorna pauses. "Basically, she’s trouble. Like you."
I inch closer to her, but she holds her ground. Only this time, Lorna’s pulse rate picks up. She can pretend not to be scared of me but, like anybody, Lorna can’t hide her body’s reaction to a vampire.
The stupid girl holds my stare, allowing me to explore inside her mind and read what I needed to see.
Lorna knew.
Katherine asked and she snatched the opportunity to hurt the imposter. Layers of hatred and jealousy towards Maeve are tangled in her mind and I clearly see her making the powder for Katherine.
"You bitch," I lower my voice in warning. "You’ll regret this."
I wait for her to back away at my malevolence, and I’m impressed when she doesn’t yield an inch. "Are you threatening me?"
"If anything else happens to Maeve. If this has damaged her mind, I’ll be coming for you."
"To do what?" she sneers.
"To make sure you’re fucking sorry."
Lorna laughs in my face. "See, this is another reason Maeve needs to go. She’s cosying up with you. The Dominion golden boy."
"Fuck you," I snap.
"You’re not denying you’re Dominion, then?"
"I don’t need to."
Lorna looks down her nose at me and side steps. I match her. "Move, vamp."
Hell, I thought Katherine was bad, but the loathing against Maeve inside this girl’s head is beyond anything I’ve picked up from the lamia.
"You’ll regret this," I repeat, itching to threaten her with more. "Watch your back."
Lorna doesn’t pay attention, instead distracted by something behind me, and calls out, "Omigod! Don’t hurt me, please. Let me go!"
Footsteps approach and Lorna’s face falls into despair as she staggers back with her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.
What the fuck?
"What’s happening?" I tense at the gruff voice. Fucking great. Vincent.
"N-nothing." Lorna’s false fear continues.
I turn and look up at the shifter mountain. "Nothing."
His eyes narrow. "Did I hear you threaten her?"
"No."
He glares at my sullen face and I shake my fringe to hide my eyes.
"Lorna, isn’t it?"
She nods, hand trembling. "Yes."
"Has this student upset you?"
"He..." She sucks in a breath. "He threatened to kill me."
"What the fuck?" I retort.
"He blames me for what happened to Maeve, just because I’m a witch and friends with Katherine."
Vincent’s mouth becomes a hard line and I chew a nail as I wait for his response. The man hates witches and probably wants Maeve dead too.
"That’s a serious accusation, Lorna."
"But everybody knows Andrei’s reputation."
"Oh for fuck’s sake!" I exclaim. "I’m not listening to your bullshit."
My attempt to walk away fails as a large hand curls around my bicep. I wince as Vincent squeezes to hold me in place. "Did you threaten her?"
"No."
"Liar!" half-shrieks Lorna.
Vincent pauses and I snatch a chance to push into his mind in the hope I can anticipate his next move.
Nothing.
Literally, nothing. His mind is a black hole without a single thought or emotion. Where he holds my arm, nothing comes through to me. No energy. No aura.
As suddenly as he grabbed me, Vincent drops my arm and steps back. I attempt to hide my shock. What did I hit? A mental magic shield or something more? Because I swear his mind held nothing.
"I’m making a note of this incident and passing on to your respective house heads."
"Sure. Can I go now?" I ask.
"Do not approach Lorna again," he adds. "Lorna, please inform a professor if this vampire threatens you again."
She nods with a grateful smile.
I can’t wait to get the hell away from here and him. The dawn breaks in the sky above as I rush across the academy towards Petrescu house, the anger washed away by shock. Vincent slipped up, and I managed what Maeve failed to do so far. Found something nobody else has.
I’ve seen into Vincent’s mind.
And he doesn’t have one.
Chapter Thirty-One
ASH
I leave the others and head to Vince’s place. I won't see Maeve until tomorrow, and after today’s events, I need a beer. Vince always told me I’m always welcome to see him, and his fridge is always stocked with beer.
Maeve is still at the infirmary and I’m itching to talk to her. I sent a couple of texts and she’s agreed to meet later. Her message ended ‘don’t fuss’.
Fuss? I want to take the girl, wrap her up, and keep her safe from the world she doesn’t understand. To hide with her from the bullshit.
From my brother.
I swallow hard as I remember the night Vince threatened me. Vince has a short temper and I’ve seen him snap a couple of times since he came back, but the physical assault genuinely scared me.
He apologised the next morning. Well,
as much as he ever apologises. Blamed the booze. His frustration. I shrugged the behaviour off, but something doesn’t sit right in my stomach. We’d tussle as kids, especially when Vince hit his teen years and I was the annoying little brother, but he’s never hurt me.
That evening was the first time I thought he might.
I’d collapsed into the spare room after the extra beers, and the next day I was ready to confront Vince. Stand up against him.
Vince doesn’t know, but before he apologised I watched him from the hallway where he sat in the lounge. He stared ahead, hands clenched into fists on his knees and his face dark with pain. He didn’t move for several minutes and I debated whether to go to him or not. Partly because if I angered him, he could do worse, and partly because the guy I saw in the lounge isn’t the Vincent I know.
He’d hate me to see him vulnerable, so I backed off.
But I worried—and I still do—because Vince needs help.
The heavy door leading into the staff quarters bangs closed behind me and echoes across the tiled hallway. I glance at the stairs heading up to the next floor, in case a professor sees me. Vince tells me I’m allowed inside, but I’m unsure.
He opens the door to his rooms the moment I knock. The first time I visited, the place looked like a magazine feature about period homes, everything spic-n-span and perfectly arranged.
Now the place has the ‘Vincent’ touches. He hasn’t straightened furniture since his party, and the place smells of stale alcohol and fried food.
He stares at me and swigs from the bottle in his hand.
"Hey, little dude. Come for a beer?" He lifts up his bottle and turns away to the kitchen. Vince is barefoot and shirtless, his back thick with knotted muscle and inked with a black dragon. He’s proud of his shifter status, whereas I dread I could be the same.
What if this shifter form is where some of his temper comes from?
Closing the door, I rest against the wood. Vince reappears with another bottle and a grin.
"Crazy day, huh?" he asks as he hands it to me. "Do you know what happened to the witch?"
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