Eternal

by Kristi Cook

  “So you’re not allowed to leave campus anymore?”

  “No. I’m on total lockdown here. That’s why I wasn’t at the funeral. But I should have been there for you. It must have been . . . awful.”

  I inhaled sharply. “It was awful. I can’t even stand thinking about it. Can you just . . . I don’t know . . . help me forget? Just for a little while?”

  “I can try.” He gathered me close, hugging me tightly. “Do you need to be somewhere, or can you stay?”

  “I can stay. What’d you have in mind?” I teased, desperate to lighten the mood.

  He released me then, peering down at me with one raised brow. “Oh, really now. Going there, are we?” he asked, laying the British accent on thick.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “You just sounded so much like an aristocrat. I feel like I should curtsy or something.”

  He swept one hand in a grand gesture. “Hey, don’t let me stop you. I’m all for girls falling at my feet.”

  “Now you’re starting to sound like Tyler,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Minus that annoying Texas drawl, I should hope.”

  “Hey, I’m a Georgia peach, remember?” I laid on my accent as thick as possible, drawing out each syllable. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with a drawl.”

  Aidan sat on the edge of the daybed, holding out a hand to me. “Come here, then, Georgia peach.”

  I complied, settling myself beside him. I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed, feeling my tense muscles relax as I inhaled his familiar scent. “Thank you,” I said, realizing just how much my mood had improved since I’d walked through that door.

  “For what?”

  “For making me smile. I needed that.”

  “It’ll get easier, Vi. Just take it one day at a time.”

  I nodded. “I know.” After all, I was no stranger to loss. Neither was Aidan. Maybe it was why we worked so well. “Do you mind if I put on some music?” I asked, reaching into my back pocket to retrieve my cell.

  “Breaking the rules again, I see.”

  “I figured since I was already breaking a big one by coming to your room, I might as well go all out. Anyway, I’m obsessed with this song. Makes me think of you,” I added, hitting play.

  The opening notes of my current favorite song began to play—low, quiet. Melodious. A tambourine joined the acoustic guitar and mandolin as the tempo increased.

  “Ugh, angsty Irish rock,” Aidan said dismissively as the chorus began, and I looked up at him in surprise.

  “They’re not Irish,” I said.

  “Scottish? Welsh?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “They’re from Colorado. You don’t like this song?”

  “It has a boring beat,” he grumbled.

  “A simple beat,” I corrected. “But the lyrics . . .” I trailed off, unable to put my thoughts into words. The lyrics were simply . . . perfect.

  “I can’t get past the beat to hear the lyrics,” he said.

  “Okay, whatever,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender.

  Aidan reached for my right hand. Turning it over, he ran the pad of his thumb over my now fully healed tattoo. “I’d almost forgotten about this. It really does look nice, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded. “I love it.”

  He released my hand, looking thoughtful now.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  His gaze met mine, and only then did I notice the faintest trace of red creeping in. The sight should have frightened me, but it didn’t. “I’m sorry your birthday was ruined,” he said at last. “I had such plans for after. Our own private party.”

  “I know.” My pulse leapt, my mouth suddenly dry.

  “Tell me, Vi,” he said, his brow knitted as he trailed a finger down the side of my face. “Do you believe in the whole concept of soul mates?”

  I shook my head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I mean, you just threw me off there with that whole music thing,” I added with a smile.

  “I think most people misinterpret the concept,” Aidan began hesitantly. “They expect that their soul mate will be just like them. You know, that a soft, gentle intellectual will fit only with another soft, gentle intellectual. Or a fiery personality can match only another fiery personality. But I think it’s just the opposite, that soul mates are more like two sides of a coin.”

  “Oh, really?” I said, intrigued now. It was clear that he’d put a lot of thought into this.

  The corners of his mouth twitched with a smile. “Yes, really. And you and I . . . well, we’re so very different, aren’t we? And yet . . . that connection between us was almost instantaneous. You’re the lightheartedness to my solemnity, the spontaneity to my careful planning, the light to my dark. If you’re heads, then I’m tails. Together we’re a whole. Maybe that’s what a soul mate truly is.”

  My eyes were damp, I realized, swiping them with the back of my hand. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” I asked.

  He leaned toward me, his forehead against mine. “I’ve a pretty good idea of it,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Which is why I should probably get you out of here.”

  I knew he was right, and yet I couldn’t help but dip my head lower, brushing my lips against his mouth. I heard his breath catch in his throat, felt him clench his hands into fists by his sides. Still, I opened my mouth against his, needing to taste him, my soul mate.

  I was breathless when I finally pulled away, my skin flushed all over, my lips slightly swollen and bruised. Lifting one trembling hand, I traced his bottom lip with my index finger, wincing as I made contact with one sharp, elongated canine.

  “I could really use that cure right about now.” Aidan groaned, a hint of desperation in his voice.

  “Have you fed lately?” I asked.

  “Yeah. That’s not the problem, I’m afraid.” He closed his eyes, taking several deep, calming breaths.

  It was those dual needs, I realized—bloodlust tied to desire. He wouldn’t risk biting me again.

  “Time to change the subject, then.” My mind cast about for a solution. And then I remembered. “Paris! Patsy said my acceptance came. You know, from AUP. What about you? Did you check online?”

  “I totally forgot,” he said. “Anyway, what’s the point? Now that I’ve agreed to this whole Dauphin thing—”

  “Because we’re going to cure you, that’s why. Go on.” I waved a hand toward his laptop. “Check right now.”

  Just like that, the red receded from his eyes, his teeth fully normal now. He rose, making his way to the desk. Leaning over it, he opened his laptop’s browser and logged on to the university’s application system. A few clicks of the mouse later and he turned back toward me. “Looks like I’m in too,” he said without a trace of emotion.

  I let out a sigh, a flicker of hope igniting in my chest. For now, I’d just go along with the assumption that everything would work out—that he’d do his Dauphin thing, set the vampire world back in order, and return to Paris, where we’d have his cure waiting. That was the plan, and I was sticking to it.

  “So,” I said, unable to suppress a smile. “Let’s talk about living arrangements in Paris. Roommates, right?”

  At first I thought he was going to continue to argue with me over the futility of the situation. So I nearly wept with relief when he returned my smile instead. “Did I ever mention that I own an apartment in Paris? In the seventh arrondissement, right near AUP. A very nice view of La Tour Eiffel.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He shook his head. “Not kidding. Roomie,” he added with a grin.

  “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Remember how we talked once about going on a graduation trip? You know, to Brompton Park. Your old house,” I added unnecessarily, as if he didn’t know.

  “You really want to go there?”

  “Definitely. Let’s all go. Cece and Sophie and Marissa. The guys too. I think we could all use a little vacation after . . . well . .
.” I swallowed hard. I couldn’t say her name, couldn’t bear to bring it up again. “We can pool our money and rent out the house for a week. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” he said with a nod. “If it’ll make you happy.”

  “Very happy. Here”—I reached for the mouse on his laptop—“go to the UK Trust website and look it up. Let’s see when it’s available.”

  He quickly typed in a search and opened the page. I watched as he clicked through, opening up the calendar. My heart sank when I saw the red X’s. “Crap, it’s booked the week after graduation. But look, not the week after that.”

  “You want to go talk to your friends? Have them ask their parents and check on airfare. Don’t worry about the house—I’ll have my agent in London make the arrangements.”

  I eyed him dubiously. “Your agent in London? What does that even mean?”

  “That you don’t have to worry about securing the house,” he answered with a laugh. “I’ll make some calls now.”

  “Okay. I’m going to go see if I can catch everyone before dinner.” I leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “And thank you. This is going to be awesome.”

  21 ~ It’s Gotta Be You

  Jenna Holley is what?” I asked, my voice rising shrilly.

  Sophie sank onto Cece’s bed with a sigh, her eyes red and swollen. “Moving into my room. Right now.”

  “Bu-but why?” I stammered. “It’s only a couple of months until graduation. Anyway, what about Marissa?”

  “I asked Marissa if she wanted to move in.” She unzipped her hoodie and shrugged out of it.

  “And?” I prodded.

  “And she said no. You know, the whole empath thing. It makes her uncomfortable to be around other people all the time, vulnerable to their emotional state. Blah, blah, blah.”

  I shook my head, confused. It didn’t make any sense. I mean, okay, I guess I could understand Marissa’s point, although some empaths chose to have roommates. Max was living with Tyler now, after all.

  But why would they assign Sophie a new roommate so close to the end of the year? And why Jenna Holley, of all people?

  “Well, what happened to Jenna’s roommate?”

  Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know. I think she might have transferred to Summerhaven at the end of the semester or something.”

  “I just don’t understand what difference it makes. It’s not like they needed to free up a room or anything.”

  Sophie’s hazel eyes filled with tears. “Mrs. Girard said she didn’t think it was a good idea for me to be living alone right now.”

  I kind of had to agree with Mrs. Girard there. I couldn’t even imagine having to stare at the empty side of the room that was Kate’s on an everyday basis. As it was, we all avoided Sophie’s room now, unable to bear it. Sophie needed company—needed someone to fill that empty space. But Jenna Holley?

  “Maybe you should try talking to Marissa again,” I suggested. “It’s not like it’ll kill her to have a roommate—”

  “It’s too late—Jenna’s already moving in.” She sighed heavily.

  “Well, you know you’re welcome here anytime. Seriously, you only need to go to your room to sleep, right? You could even leave a change of clothes here if you wanted. Shower on our floor.”

  “I guess. Or I could just suck it up. How many weeks are left?”

  I glanced up at the calendar on the wall. “Ten or eleven, maybe? Wait, have you gotten any acceptance letters yet?”

  Her mouth curved into a smile. “Princeton.”

  “Princeton? That’s great, Soph! Wasn’t that your first choice?”

  “Yep. I’m still waiting to hear from Dartmouth, but I think my mind is made up.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I knew you’d go Ivy.”

  “I just can’t believe you’re going to Paris. It’s so far away.”

  “I know. But you’ll come visit, right? I mean, it is Paris.” And Sophie’s parents had plenty of disposable income.

  “Sure. And you’ll come back to New York, too, right? You’ve still got Aidan’s town house, and Princeton’s just a train ride away.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand why Aidan won’t take his house back. You know, now that he’s back. It just feels weird, keeping it in my name and all.”

  “That boy’s a funny one. Dr. Byrne thinks he’s made another breakthrough, by the way. With his cure,” she clarified. “He’s pretty sure we’ll have it by the end of the semester.”

  “I hope he’s right,” I said, but I refused to get my hopes up. I’d heard it before, too many times. The closer they got, the more impossible it seemed.

  “Hey, have you booked your plane ticket for England yet?” Sophie asked.

  “Yep.” Just as I expected, Patsy had been fine with the idea of a trip to Europe with my friends. She’d given me her credit card number to book the flight, calling it a graduation present. “Cece and Josh did too. What about you?”

  “Just yesterday. I guess we can somehow try to get seats together once we get to the airport. I left my seat selection blank for now.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Sophie reached for her backpack. “We should probably get started on our homework.”

  “Probably,” I agreed, even as my thoughts returned to our original topic of conversation. “But . . . what are you going to do about Jenna?”

  “What can I do, Violet? It looks like I’m stuck with her.”

  * * *

  “Okay, so why the lab?” I leaned against a black-topped table watching Matthew as he dug around inside a drawer. He’d sent me a text asking me to meet him there rather than his office for our usual Saturday-morning rendezvous.

  “It’s just an idea I had,” he said. He set several items on a tray and then turned to face me. “I know it sounds kind of weird, but I’d really like to take a sample of your blood. Just to see if I can pinpoint anything out of the ordinary that might serve as a Sâbbat marker or something. Do you mind?”

  “No, I guess not.” My gaze strayed to the hypodermic needle lying on the tray beside two test tubes and a piece of narrow rubber tubing.

  “I’m told I have a gentle touch,” he offered with a smile.

  “Yeah, sure. You know I can’t stand the sight of blood, right?”

  “Said no one ever while dating a vampire,” he quipped.

  “Very clever. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

  Matthew reached for a pair of rubber gloves and slipped his hands inside, securing them with a snap. “I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Ravenclaw.” He tipped his head toward one of the stools on the far side of table. “You want to sit for this?”

  “I probably should. Less distance to fall when I faint.” I trudged around the table and took a seat, offering up my right arm.

  “You’re not really that bad, are you?” he asked as he swabbed the inside of my elbow with an alcohol pad.

  “Almost.” I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I gathered my nerve. “Okay, let’s get this over with.” I turned my head, staring at the clock on the wall while he inserted the needle into my vein. True to his word, he was so gentle that I barely even felt the prick. “Why two tubes?” I asked, trying to make distracting conversation.

  “There are a lot of different things I want to test.” He fell silent for a while, and I continued to stare at the clock, watching the second hand make its lazy circuit. “Okay, I’m just about done,” he said at last. I was vaguely aware of the sensation of the needle being removed, and then he pressed a cotton ball against my skin, bending my elbow to hold it in place.

  “Wow, that was quick. Do I get a Band-Aid, Dr. Byrne?”

  “Of course you do.” He held up two. “SpongeBob or Disney princesses?”

  “Seriously?” I shook my head. “I’ll take SpongeBob. I’m not even going to ask what you’re doing with princess Band-Aids.”

  He tossed away the cotton ball and replaced it with the bandage. “Done. Okay, n
ow what? Do you want to go back to my office for a bit?”

  “Sure, why not? Maybe you can talk me through a replay of one of my visions, one that still hasn’t happened yet.”

  His gaze met mine, a muscle in his jaw flexing perceptibly. “The one where you saw yourself kill Aidan?”

  I swallowed hard. “Yeah, that’s the one. You haven’t seen it yourself yet, have you?” It was weird to think that he sometimes experienced my visions—it made me feel somehow . . . exposed.

  And yet it could be helpful. I almost wished he would see this particular one, mostly to save me the heartbreak of describing it to him.

  “Haven’t seen it,” he said. “Just let me put this stuff away, and we’ll give it a try.”

  Five minutes later, I settled into the chair across from his desk. His office was warm, comfortable. It didn’t take long for Matthew to lull me into a trance-like state as I concentrated on the familiar ticktock of the clock.

  An unfamiliar room. Plush carpet beneath my feet, robin’s-egg blue with a dark brown pattern—scripty curlicues and little birds. There was a window, I noticed this time; beyond the panes of glass, I saw green. Green, rolling hills. A willow tree. I tried to look around for more clues, but I was crying too hard, deep gulping sobs that racked my entire body.

  “You have to do it, Vi,” a voice pleaded. Aidan. I turned to face him, horrified. “Please, I beg of you,” he continued on. “It has to go into my heart. You can do it; I’ve taught you how. Don’t let me down, not now. You promised.”

  “No,” I said, wanting it to stop. “Please, no. Don’t make me, Aidan. I can’t do it.”

  “Yes, love. You can. Right here.” He tapped his chest, above his heart. “There’s no time to waste. You must do it now. Now,” he repeated, his tone urgent.

  “I can’t,” I cried. “I can’t do it. How can you ask me to?”

  “Because I love you, Vi. I love you, with all my heart. It has to be you—don’t you see?”

  “No!” I screamed, suddenly back in Matthew’s office. I was shivering violently, my teeth clattering as I tried to catch my breath. “I can’t watch it again. I can’t.”