Eternal

by Kristi Cook

  “In Eastern Europe and somewhere in Asia. Unexplained deaths—a rash of them. Wounds to the victims’ necks.”

  “Where did you hear this?” I asked.

  “From Aidan. I guess this Luc character told him—you know, his scary-looking new bodyguard. Between these civilian attacks and the assassin that came after Aidan in Atlanta, well . . . things are definitely escalating. What’s going to happen if this war breaks out before school ends? Have you given any thought to that?”

  I shook my head. “I’m just hoping that it doesn’t. But if it does, well . . . I assume Mrs. Girard will somehow excuse me from finals and grant me my diploma, even if I’m not around to finish the semester, right? I mean, she’s the one making me play a part in all of this.”

  “Wait, that reminds me . . .” Matthew rose from his chair and went to a cabinet against the far wall, where he rummaged around for a bit. When he returned, he had something in one hand—a vial of some sort. He moved to stand just in front of me. “I’ve been meaning to test something out on you.”

  “Okay,” I said warily.

  In one swift movement, he removed the cap.

  Immediately, my senses exploded. My right wrist burned; my entire body seemed to vibrate. Glancing down, I saw that the blackish red bloodstones on my bracelet were roiling angrily, glowing now.

  Two words flooded my consciousness: Vampire. Destroy.

  In an instant, I had my stake in my hand, poised to strike.

  “Whoa!” Matthew said, ducking behind his desk. Hastily, he recapped the vial.

  Just like that, the sensations disappeared. Gone. Poof. “What was that?” I asked, dropping the stake to the floor by my feet.

  Matthew looked a little pale. “Infected vampire blood, along with a tissue sample. That was some reaction, though. I didn’t even see you reach for your stake.”

  I tipped my head toward my bag. “It was in there.”

  “Yeah, but you moved so fast. Too fast. Next time you need to take a second to establish the connection with me first, okay? You would have struck on your own, with no coordination. We’re a team, remember?”

  “Well, next time warn me before you go sticking vampire blood under my nose like that! Where did you get it, anyway? It isn’t Aidan’s.”

  His eyes widened a fraction. “You can tell it isn’t Aidan’s?”

  “Yeah.” I held up the wrist with the bracelet. “White stones, good vampire. Red stones, bad vampire. It’s pretty simple. Anyway, I don’t get all wiggy when it’s a good vampire. Especially if it’s Aidan.”

  “I had him take this sample from the vampire we slayed in Atlanta,” he said, pointedly avoiding any mention of Kate. “The female. Before he burned the corpse.”

  I just nodded, trying to ignore the painful lump that had formed in my throat. I would not let myself think about Kate. Not now.

  He rubbed a palm against the dark stubble on his cheek, looking thoughtful. “Anyway, it’s interesting that you reacted so strongly. I guess that means it’s either something in the blood or in the tissue cells that sets you off. The vampire doesn’t have to be alive. Of course, I use that term loosely in this case.”

  “Well, that’s just fascinating,” I said sharply. I was still shaking all over, thanks to his little test. Adrenaline, I supposed.

  “Can we try it one more time? Only this time, the second you sense it, reach out for me psychically, okay?”

  “I’m not sure I know how,” I said truthfully. “You mean telepathically?”

  “Try using the same mental muscle you use to put up the wall around your thoughts. Does that make any sense to you?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said, resigning myself to the experiment. Clearly, Matthew thought this was an important skill to hone.

  “Okay, ready? I’m going to uncap it again.”

  I nodded. “Ready.”

  Just like before, I had my stake in my hand, moving to strike a mere second or two after he’d removed the cap. There had been no time to reach out to him psychically, no time to think or do anything at all, except react.

  It was only on the fourth try that I managed to pause long enough to flex my psychic muscle. Megvéd, I thought, pushing the word from my mind in much the same way as I reached out telepathically to Aidan.

  And then I felt what seemed like a click inside my head. Suddenly, he was there. Matthew. Inside my consciousness.

  Vampire. Destroy. The words were a command this time, spoken directly to Matthew, but with no discernible effort on my part. I couldn’t explain it, not even if I tried. There were no words to describe the connection. We were simply . . . one.

  I reached for my stake; he unsheathed his baselard, all in the blink of an eye. If he feinted left, I went right, and vice versa. We moved in perfect unison, not like separate bodies, but like two parts of a single one, anticipating each other’s every move, bolstering it.

  And then he recapped the vial. I felt him disengage from me psychically, just like that. I felt off, like I had vertigo or something. I collapsed into the chair behind me with a gasp, trying to regain my equilibrium.

  Across from me, Matthew looked equally dazed. “Wow,” he said, raking a hand through his hair. “That was . . . intense.”

  It took me a second to catch my breath. “Yeah. I think we got it that time.”

  “I guess so.” He set down the vial, his hands trembling slightly. “You think we can do that at any time? Or just when there’s a threat?”

  “You’re asking me?” I shook my head. “I’m totally in the dark here. I know nothing. I don’t even know what the hell that was.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. “I’d call it pretty damn awesome, wouldn’t you?”

  I had to admit it was.

  26 ~ Dancing Queen

  Prom night at Winterhaven was much the same as prom night anywhere else. After a day of primping and preening, the seniors donned their tuxes and cocktail dresses and piled onto a coach bus headed for the big event—in our case, a beautiful hotel fashioned after a castle that sat high atop a hill overlooking the Hudson River.

  The evening began with a formal, sit-down dinner followed by dancing. The only difference between others proms and ours was that everyone attending Winterhaven’s had to sign a special COPA rider that outlined additional rules and punishments specific to this special, off-campus event.

  Apparently, there had been problems in the past. With only two weeks left before graduation and college plans already set, the threat of expulsion didn’t hold much weight for some, it would seem. So in order to secure a ticket to the Winterhaven prom, you had to make a special trip to the headmistress’s office to read and sign the rider. Of course, the special circumstances also meant that everyone attending had to be a student at Winterhaven—in other words, no outside dates.

  Not that this affected too many people, but I knew of at least one girl—a senior on the fencing team with me—who had to go dateless because her boyfriend went to one of the hill schools in Riverdale.

  Regardless, I was certain that I had the hottest date possible. I glanced over at Aidan, sitting beside me in his tux, and thought for sure that he was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. He’d opted for a white dinner jacket instead of black, and it suited him perfectly, made his eyes look like clear aquamarines in the flickering candlelight.

  He’d used some sort of product on his hair to tame the golden waves, but one single curl had escaped, falling across his forehead. I resisted the urge to reach over and brush it back, deciding that it gave him a careless, boyish air that fit the circumstances.

  More than anything, I was glad that Mrs. Girard had let him come. Luc was here, of course—Aidan’s own personal bodyguard. At least a dozen additional vampire guards were stationed around the perimeter of the grounds, keeping watch. At the first hint of a threat—real or imagined—Aidan would be whisked back to Winterhaven. He’d had to agree to that before Mrs. Girard would allow him to come. Well worth it, I decided.
Even if it meant Luc was lurking in the shadows, following us everywhere we went.

  Aidan leaned toward me, his breath warm against my neck. “You want to go outside and get some air?”

  “Are we allowed?” I asked.

  “No one said I had to stay inside,” he answered with a shrug.

  I nodded, pushing aside my half-eaten slice of cheesecake, and rose to follow him out. I couldn’t help but admire the decor as we wove our way toward the exit, the room a labyrinth of tables, chairs, and bodies. The prom committee had chosen black, white, and red as the night’s color scheme, and the result was truly elegant. The round tables were draped in black, the chairs covered with crisp white linen. A tall, rustic candelabrum stood in the center of each table, holding white pillar candles in various sizes. Long-stemmed red roses were twined around the base and arms, filling the room with their scent. The overall effect was magical, like something out of a fairy tale.

  And I felt like a princess in my chocolate-brown chiffon dress. I’d accessorized it with French blue—strappy sandals and a simple wrap. Aidan’s mother’s aquamarine and diamond necklace—the one he’d given me last year for Christmas—completed the outfit.

  The jewels were heavy against my throat, fit for a viscountess. I didn’t feel worthy of them. They were far too valuable, too precious for a school prom. But seeing the happiness—the love, the pride—shining in Aidan’s eyes when he saw me wearing them told me I had made the right choice.

  As soon as we stepped out onto the stone patio, I paused, glancing back inside. “Wait. I’d better tell Matthew where I’m going. You know, just so he doesn’t get all twitchy if he can’t find me.”

  I saw Aidan roll his eyes, though he tried to hide it by turning away from me. “Fine,” he said. “Do you see him anywhere? He was sitting over there with the other chaperones.”

  I peered through the glass in the door, my gaze scanning the staff table in the room’s corner. Matthew’s seat was empty now. “That’s weird. I don’t see him. Oh well. We can’t stay out long, anyway. I think they’re doing king and queen soon, and I’ve got to be there to cheer for Cece when she wins.”

  Winterhaven was progressive in many ways—we didn’t have cheerleaders or a homecoming court, much less a homecoming queen. But some of the old-school traditions remained, including the presentation of prom king and queen, voted on by the senior class. There were actual crowns and scepters, or so I’d been told, and the king and queen led off the night’s dancing with the opening slow song, also chosen by the seniors. I was pretty sure that Cece had it in the bag, though who would be voted king was anyone’s guess.

  “Feeling confident in your roommate, I see.” He reached for my hand, bringing it to his lips.

  “No one else has a chance,” I said with a laugh. “Anyway, she looks like a queen tonight.”

  “The both of you do. My queen,” he said with a mock bow.

  I leaned in to him, resting my head on his shoulder. The sun had only just set, leaving the sky a colorful canvas. Indigo, gray, orange, pink painted the sky in wide, rolling bands. Down below, the town’s lights were twinkling, matching the first stars up in the sky. In the distance, the river stretched and twisted. Across it spanned the Tappan Zee Bridge, brightly lit against the river’s still, dark waters.

  The breeze stirred, lifting the tendrils of hair from the sides of my face, cooling my skin, and I let out a contented sigh. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

  “Beautiful,” Aidan agreed, but when I glanced up at him, I saw that he was looking at me, not the view. My heart did a little giddyap, my skin tingling all over.

  “Have you ever been to a prom before?” I asked him.

  He shook his head. “No. Never. You?”

  “This is my first.”

  “Good,” he said, his fingers trailing down the column of my neck, eliciting a shiver. “A first for us both. I feel as if I’m at a ball, stealing away my paramour for a forbidden kiss.”

  I held my breath as his lips slanted down toward mine. His kiss was soft and gentle and sweet, leaving me aching for more.

  “Let’s go down to the lawn,” he said, his voice low and silky smooth. “Perhaps we’ll find a hedgerow maze to get lost in.”

  Wordlessly, he led me down the wide steps to the flagstone path below that wound through the hotel grounds. We’d taken only a few steps when I stopped, dead in my tracks. Matthew stood a dozen or so feet away, with a woman. And they were arguing—loudly.

  “It’s just that I don’t like surprises. You know that,” he said. “You should have told me you were coming.”

  “Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise,” the woman said sharply.

  Charlie. It had to be Charlie.

  “You’re putting me in an awkward position,” Matthew said. “I’m supposed to be chaperoning. Not . . . with a date.”

  “Technically I’m here with my father. I’m his date. This is about her, isn’t it?”

  Matthew shook his head. “No. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Look, Matt, if you’re willing to give up everything for her, don’t you think I at least deserve to meet her? Can’t you at least give me that?”

  For some inexplicable reason, I chose that moment to test our connection. I reached out to him psychically: Megvéd. There was that click again, and then he was there, right inside my head. For a split second, our consciousnesses merged. I could feel everything he felt—panic, discomfort, confusion. And then just like that, he disengaged.

  As if in slow motion, he turned toward me. The woman followed his gaze, her eyes meeting mine, and then she looked back to Matthew.

  His face said it all.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” the woman asked, a brittle smile on her face.

  I launched myself into action, hurrying over to where they stood in silent standoff. “Hi, I’m Violet,” I said, forcing a neutral tone into my voice. “You must be Charlie. I’ve heard so much about you!” I held out a hand to her, and she took it, pumping it twice before releasing it. “Oh, and this is Aidan. My boyfriend,” I added pointedly, offering him my best besotted-girlfriend smile.

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Violet,” Charlie said. “Obviously, I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”

  She was tall in heels—almost as tall as Matthew. Her hair was pale blond, pulled back into a neat French twist, and her eyes were the same light blue as Kate’s had been. She looked older than I’d imagined. Older and more sophisticated.

  And she loved Matthew—I could sense it. Really loved him, in a desperate kind of way. I’d never felt so low in all my life.

  Because I was the one keeping them apart. She’d never have him all to herself—ever—and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. No amount of reassurances, of promises that my heart belonged elsewhere, would change that. As much as I liked to think that I was in control of my own destiny, there were some things that fate controlled—like centuries-old blood-borne legacies that couldn’t be denied, no matter how hard we tried or how badly we wanted to ignore them.

  Just then my cell, which I’d stowed away in my little purse, let out a screeching chirp. “Sorry. I need to get this,” I said, digging it out and glancing down at the screen.

  Where are u? the text read. They’re about to do king and queen!

  “We have to get back inside,” I said to Aidan. “It’s crowning time.”

  He just nodded, clearly anxious to extricate himself from this uncomfortable little tableau.

  “It was really great to meet you,” I directed at Charlie as I stuffed my cell back into my bag. “Maybe we can . . . I don’t know . . . go out to dinner or something after graduation?” It was a stupid suggestion, but I was floundering for something appropriate to say.

  “It was good to meet you too,” Charlie said.

  “We’d better hurry,” Aidan said.

  I made it back just in time to clasp Cece’s hand and give it a squeeze before they called
her name, declaring her prom queen. The room erupted in cheers as she made her way to the center of the dance floor and accepted the sparkling tiara.

  Standing beside me, Joshua wolf-whistled loudly as Queen Cece made her curtsy, scepter in hand.

  “She looks beautiful up there,” I told him, nudging him in the ribs.

  “She looks amazing,” he agreed.

  “And now for the presentation of our prom king,” the announcer said.

  I rose up on tiptoe, trying to see who had the mic. It was Suzanne Smith, I realized, head of the prom committee. I made a mental note to congratulate her on a job well done.

  “As this year’s prom king, the senior class has chosen . . .”

  A lengthy drumroll followed, during which I glanced over at Joshua, looking hopeful.

  “Not a chance,” he shouted over the din. “Who would vote for a shifter?”

  “. . . Aidan Gray! Come on up and join your queen, Aidan,” Suzanne chirped cheerfully.

  “Well, this is awkward,” Joshua quipped while Aidan just stood there, looking a little stunned.

  “Go on,” I urged, giving him a little shove forward. “You just got promoted—from viscount to king.”

  I had to stifle a laugh as Aidan was crowned, looking about as stiff and uncomfortable as anyone possibly could. The senior ballad was announced, Cece and Aidan were shoved together, and the dancing finally began.

  And, okay, a teeny-tiny part of me was jealous to see the two of them up there dancing—my boyfriend and my best friend. But I had to admit that they looked spectacular together. Cece’s silvery white dress set off her dark skin and hair flawlessly, a perfect foil to Aidan’s fair, golden-boy looks. It almost looked planned, as if they had coordinated their outfits and everything.

  Halfway through the song, Suzanne took up the mic and invited the rest of us to join in.

  Joshua tapped me on the arm. “I guess you and I . . . I mean, why not, right?”

  I tried to look coy. “Are you asking me to dance, Josh?”

  “Well, you know, I just thought since my date is a little occupied at the moment. With yours.”