Mirage

by Kristi Cook

  “No, and I took the elixir just this morning, which should have prevented this. But … I don’t know, we’ve made some changes to it, something that follows the same protocol as the changes we’ve made to the serum.”

  A frisson of fear shot through me. Could that explain it? And if it did …

  No, I didn’t want to think about the implications. “Can you fix it now?” I asked instead, forcing my voice to steady. “It’s getting late, and I can’t go back to the dorm with two puncture marks on my neck.”

  “There’s … it’s just one. But yeah, let me fix it.” He reached for my neck, then hesitated, his eyes suddenly blank now. “I won’t hurt you, I swear.”

  “I know you won’t.” I tipped my head to one side and waited.

  One lick, then two. Again, waves of pleasure seemed to wash over me. There was something in his saliva, something that did far more than anesthetize a wound, I realized. I couldn’t describe it, not exactly, but it was … pleasant. More than pleasant. Not exactly like sexual pleasure—at least, I didn’t think so. But probably pretty similar.

  “There.” He swallowed hard. “It’s gone.”

  “Thanks.” I reached up to feel it, my fingertips searching for some indication of where the wound had been. There was nothing—my skin was perfectly smooth now. My gaze met his. “Wow, that’s amazing.”

  “I am so sorry, Violet. Sorrier than I’ve ever been about anything in all the years I’ve walked the earth.”

  Wow, that was a lot of sorry. “Please tell me you’re not going to freak out about this. We’ll be more careful from now on, that’s all, okay? It’s not that big a deal.”

  “How can you even say that?” He sounded angry now. “It’s an enormous deal. A monumental one. I’ve done something so terrible, so unspeakable …” He trailed off, shaking his head. “And I can’t undo it, no matter how badly I want to.”

  “Will you stop blaming yourself? You’re a vampire, okay? It’s just your nature. If I’m stupid enough to put myself in situations like this, then I bear as much responsibility as you, right?”

  “Wrong,” he said, his voice clipped. “Completely, unequivocally wrong. It’s my responsibility to keep people safe from me, and I failed you in the most spectacular fashion possible.” As it always did when his emotions ran high, his British accent became far more apparent than usual. His Lord Brompton voice, I liked to call it. It was never a good sign when he slipped into it. It usually meant there was no arguing with him.

  The campus bells began to peal, marking the hour.

  “I’ll take you back,” he said. One by one, the candles extinguished themselves. The space heater hissed as it shut down. Above us, the twinkle lights flickered out. Only the light of the moon illuminated the loft as Aidan held out a hand to me.

  I took his hand with a sigh. Well, that went badly.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready.” I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for the weird sensations.

  In a matter of seconds, I was back in my dorm room. Cece stood by her bed in her pink robe and bunny slippers, her mouth open in surprise.

  And Aidan? He was gone.

  28 ~ The Gloaming

  Aidan really was gone. He missed all his finals and didn’t even show up for the tournament on Friday night. Tyler claimed to have seen him once in the lab with Matthew, so I supposed he was still around somewhere. But he wasn’t going to class and he wasn’t responding to me telepathically.

  Somehow, I managed to get through my finals. I was pretty sure I’d aced them—but then, I’d been studying like crazy for weeks. With a sigh, I ran a finger over the new golden trophy sitting in front of me on my desk. I’d done well in the tournament, retaining my title as All-Ivy girls’ champion.

  I knew Aidan was scared; I knew he was totally freaked out and hating himself right now. He needed time, that’s all. A few days to sort things out in his head. I would give him that. But I’d promised Mrs. Girard that we’d stick together over break. He’d just have to get over it, and quickly. School got out on Monday at noon, and when it did, I was going to find him, and he was going to talk to me.

  Cece could track him down, astrally speaking. And she would, if I asked her to. I wasn’t going to let him brood, hating himself, forever.

  Beside me, my cell rang. Patsy. With a sigh, I connected the call. “Hey, you all packed and ready to go?” I asked. Her flight to the Caribbean left first thing in the morning.

  “I think so. I just feel terrible, though, leaving you. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

  “I’m going to be fine.” And much better with you far away while I sort things out with Aidan. “You’ve packed your EpiPens?”

  “Yes, I’ve got them.” I could hear the frustration in her voice. “All six of them.”

  “One in each bag? And one in with your golf clubs, just in case?”

  “Yes, and yes. Paul even bought himself this little clip-on pouch, so that he can carry one around for me, too. Seriously, though, when did you become such a worrywart?”

  Gee, maybe when terrorists executed my father and I had the pleasure of seeing it happen before it actually did? “I don’t know,” I said instead. “But I wish you’d take it more seriously. You’re all I’ve got, you know.” My eyes were suddenly damp.

  I heard her sniffle. “I know, hon. I’m sorry. Seriously, just say the word and I’ll tell Paul I’ve changed my mind.”

  “No, I want you to go. I want you to have fun with Paul. He sounds like a really nice guy, and you deserve this. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She was crying now. “I know I don’t call or e-mail enough. But I love you, Violet, as if you were my own flesh and blood.”

  “I know you do,” I said hoarsely. “And I love you, too.”

  “Oh my God, listen to us.” She laughed, a snuffling noise. “I swear, you’d think I was going away for good instead of just eight days.”

  My blood turned cold. What if this was it; what if I never saw her again? “Just promise me that you’ll be careful—that you’ll make sure you have an EpiPen with you all the time. Especially on the golf course,” I added. “I’ll text you and remind you, okay?”

  “Okay, if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “It’ll definitely make me feel better.” What was I going to do? It’s not like I could follow the woman around for the rest of her life, making sure she did what she was supposed to do—what my visions told me she needed to do.

  “I’m glad you suggested I tell Paul. If I’m going to be spending a lot of time with him, he needs to know what to do if I’m stung. Anyway”—she sighed loudly—“I should let you go.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Have fun, and don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  “I know you will, sweetie. Okay, then. Bye.”

  “Bye.” I hit the end button and set the phone back on my desk, plugging it back into the charger that attached to my laptop. Only then did I realize that she hadn’t even asked me about the tournament—the one she’d missed so that she could stay home and pack for her trip.

  I shook my head in amazement. I’d never understand her, not really. But that didn’t change the fact that she was the closest thing I had to a parent, and as selfish and self-absorbed as she was, I knew that she did love me.

  What will I do if I lose her, too?

  Forcing away the thought, I reached for a tissue and blew my nose. I needed to go and find my friends. Otherwise, I was just going to sit here worrying—about Aidan, about Patsy. Definitely not the healthy choice, mentally speaking.

  But before I had a chance to go looking for them, they found me. At least, Kate and Sophie did. The door was flung open, seemingly on its own, just seconds before the two of them strode in. “Guess who’s looking for you?” Kate called out in an annoying singsong voice.

  “Would it kill you to knock?” I muttered.

  “We were in a hurry,” she said with a shrug. “After all, we’ve got an importan
t message to convey from none other than Dr. Hottie.”

  Uh-oh. I had skipped our coaching session this morning. I kind of figured he’d gotten the message that I didn’t want to meet with him anymore after I’d stormed out of our last session. Guess not.

  “We’ve got”—she nudged Sophie in the ribs, and Sophie held up a piece of paper—“his cell number. Which we’re supposed to give to you, and tell you to call.”

  “When you’re ready to talk,” Sophie added, handing me the paper.

  I took it, folding it into fourths before tossing it onto my desk. “Is that all, Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

  Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. Can we stand around and listen while you talk to him?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not calling him now.”

  “Maybe later, then?” Sophie suggested.

  “Weren’t you the one who was all like, ‘Eww, he’s a teacher’?” I asked her, waving my hands in the air for emphasis.

  She shrugged. “Maybe. He’s still hotness personified.”

  “Yeah, Byrne-ing hot,” Kate added.

  I leveled them a glare. “You finished?”

  Sophie nodded, looking solemn. “What’s the deal with Aidan? Is he still MIA?”

  “Yep, and I’m going to kill him when he shows up again.” I glanced over at my cell, hoping to find that I’d missed a call or a text. There was nothing.

  Kate sat down on Cece’s bed. “Uh-oh, someone better hide her stake. Otherwise, there might be a case of vampiricide. How’s that for a word?”

  “Very impressive,” I said. “Your parents should be proud.”

  Kate reached down to zip up her hoodie, a pale blue the exact same shade as her eyes. “It’s cold in here,” she said with a sigh. “And I’m bored. I don’t understand why they insist on keeping us here through the weekend. The final assembly is always so lame.”

  Sophie nodded. “Yeah, but I kind of like that we have a couple of days here to decompress after finals. You know, to hang out with our friends. I’d just be sitting around at home, doing nothing.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Kate conceded. “So, are you gonna tell me what’s up with you and Tyler?”

  That suspicious tone had crept into her voice again. “There’s nothing up with me and Tyler. Why?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged, fiddling with the hem of one sleeve. “It’s just that the two of you were acting all weird at the tournament last night. Did he even congratulate you? It looked like he just took his trophy and stalked off.”

  “His second-place trophy,” I said, unable to hide my glee. Some kid from Riverdale took first. Whoever he was, I wanted to hug him.

  Kate winced. “Yeah, he’s pretty upset about that, by the way.”

  I couldn’t stanch my curiosity. “Are you and Tyler still … you know, doing whatever it is you’re doing together?” I wasn’t quite sure what they were calling it at this point.

  “That’s an awfully personal question, isn’t it?” she asked coyly. “I don’t hear you dishing up particulars about you and Aidan.”

  “You never had any problem giving us the play-by-play with Jack,” Sophie argued. “Even if we didn’t want to hear it.”

  “Oh, you know you wanted to hear it.” Kate’s eyes were twinkling with mischief now. “Every naughty detail.”

  “You do realize that you sound just like him, don’t you?” I said with a groan.

  And then it hit me—she and Tyler really were perfect for each other. I don’t know why I hadn’t recognized it before now. Maybe she didn’t want to dish about the details because she really did like him. Maybe even more than she’d liked Jack.

  “Hey, you guys want to go to the café?” Sophie asked, hooking a thumb toward the door. “Cece’s headed over there after her student council meeting, and I think Marissa’s already there with Max.”

  Kate nodded. “I’m in.”

  I reached for my sweater. “Yeah, me too.” I wasn’t going to let Aidan’s disappearance ruin this time with my friends.

  After all, I had the entire break to work things out with him. And we would work things out; I was sure of it.

  Two days later, I took one last look around my room, making sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. Patsy had arranged for a car service to pick me up—it should be out front any minute now. My big rolling suitcase stood by the door, my coat draped over it. My bag and laptop case sat beside it.

  My phone. I’d left it sitting on my desk, just in case Aidan tried to call. I hurried over and grabbed it, pausing when I noticed a folded square of paper shoved into the desk’s corner.

  I picked it up and unfolded it, smoothing out the creases. It was a phone number scrawled in an unfamiliar hand, with the word “Matthew” beneath it.

  His cell number, of course. I wasn’t planning on calling him, but I shoved it into my jeans pocket anyway.

  It took me a good quarter hour to maneuver my suitcase through the corridors and down the curved marble staircase that led to the admin building. I waved good-bye to the statue of Washington Irving in the rotunda as I passed by, and awkwardly rolled my bag through the double doors that led outside.

  I paused, sweaty now. The sun had just set, the sky a pale silvery gray tinged with orangey pink. The gloaming, Aidan called this time of day.

  A cold breeze blew through the valley, lifting my hair and cooling my overheated skin. Unzipping my coat, I scanned the drive below, looking for my ride. There were a few cars lined up in the gravel drive—mostly SUVs and minivans. Family cars. I was looking for a Town Car, the vehicle of choice for the cast-off kid.

  The driver was running late, I guessed.

  The campus had pretty much emptied since the all-school assembly had ended at noon. I’d taken the afternoon to pack, telling my friends good-bye one by one as their families arrived to retrieve them. I wasn’t in any rush. Unlike them, I was going home to an empty apartment.

  Tomorrow I’d find Aidan and get him to talk, convince him that I was none the worse for wear following the “nip incident,” as I was now calling it—in my mind, at least.

  But tonight … tonight I just wanted to curl up with a good book and some Chinese takeout, maybe take a hot bath, and go to bed early. Actually, that sounded perfect.

  “Hey, Violet,” a familiar male voice called out. I looked over to see Tyler jogging toward me. “What are you still doing here?” he asked.

  “I could ask the same of you,” I countered.

  “My mom got the pickup time confused. She’s on her way now. What about you? Where’s Patsy? She wasn’t at the tournament Friday night, was she?”

  “She’s out of town.” I avoided the question, since Patsy hadn’t actually left till Sunday, but it was close enough. “I’m waiting for a car service.”

  He looked over his shoulder, scanning the drive. “Not here yet, I guess.” For a moment, neither of us spoke. He scratched one cheek; I scuffed the toe of my right boot on the stone steps. Above us, a raven arced across the sky, its wings beating loudly in the quiet stillness of dusk.

  “So,” Tyler said at last, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “You got any big plans over the break?”

  I shook my head. “Just hanging out. How ’bout you?”

  “We’re flying to Austin on Friday.”

  “Oh. Well, have fun.” This was so awkward.

  Just then, a sleek black limo pulled up. A placard in its side window had “McKenna” written in black Sharpie. Wow, either Patsy was feeling really guilty about leaving me or there had been a mix-up at the car company.

  “Someone’s traveling in style,” Tyler said with a grin. “Here, let me help you with your stuff.” He reached for my rolling suitcase and started bouncing it down the steps.

  “Thanks.” I hefted my remaining bags up on my shoulder and followed him toward the waiting car.

  A minute or two later, all my stuff was stowed. The driver had retreated to his seat up front, offering Tyler and me privacy, I guess.

&nbs
p; Tyler stood by the open door, waiting to help me inside.

  “Well, thanks again,” I said lamely. “Have a great trip, okay? I know it’s going to be hard … you know, without your dad and all. If you need to call …” I trailed off, feeling stupid.

  “Thanks, Violet,” he said softly, reaching out to wrap me in a hug. “I really do appreciate it.”

  I nodded, my cheek pressed against his chest.

  “Just be careful, okay?” There it was—the elephant in the room.

  “I will, I swear. Trust me, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Yeah, uh-huh,” he muttered as I extricated myself from his embrace and slipped inside, settling against the limo’s smooth leather interior.

  He reached for the door. “See ya, Vi,” he said, offering me a salute with his free hand.

  “See ya, Ty,” I echoed as the door slammed shut.

  As crazy as it sounded, I was going to miss him.

  29 ~ Broken

  Forty-five minutes later, we were sitting in snarled crosstown traffic, going nowhere fast.

  The window separating me from the driver slid down. “Sorry about the delay, Miss McKenna. Apparently the president’s in town.”

  “Hey, it’s not your fault,” I called back. And here I thought I’d been smart, avoiding rush hour.

  From the depths of my bag, my cell phone rang. Whitney’s ring. I dug around for it as the glass divider slid shut.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I said, shoving the headset’s earbuds into my ears.

  “Where are you?” she asked, sounding impatient.

  “On my way home—I mean, to Patsy’s apartment. Stuck in traffic. Why?”

  “Oh, no reason. Wait, never mind, I can’t hold it in any longer.” She sounded all excited now.

  “Hold what in?”

  “Guess where I am!” She sounded like a kid on Christmas morning. Wherever she was, it must be somewhere good.

  “I don’t know, where?” I played along, laughing.

  “Here’s a hint: Park Avenue.”

  I sat up straight in my seat. “Wait, what?”