by Kristi Cook
“I don’t believe that,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re not a monster, Aidan.”
“Are you so sure, Violet? Because, honestly, you have no idea what’s going through my head at any given moment. I can hear the blood rushing through your veins, you know. My hearing is that good. And right now, it’s rushing faster, which means your heart is beating faster. And you know why?”
All I could do was shake my head. He was right; my heart was racing like a rabbit’s.
“Because you’re frightened of me,” he said, leaning in toward me. “Because that’s nature’s way of protecting you— making you fear me, telling you to get away, and fast. Because nature knows how much I would love a taste of your blood.”
“You . . . you really want to drink my blood?” I stammered.
“More than you’ll ever know.” Those words were whispered against my neck, his breath warm against my skin. A shiver worked its way down my spine. I felt his lips, just below my ear, pressing lightly against my flushed skin.
I was supposed to be frightened. But there was no denying that I was totally turned on. I desperately wanted—no, needed—something that I couldn’t even explain. My head fell back, and I’m pretty sure a moan escaped my lips.
More. I wanted more; didn’t want him to stop.
Then I felt it—a hard pressure on my neck, the scrape of teeth. Instantly, my focus snapped back to attention and my entire body froze.
18 ~ Testing, Testing . . .
Aidan!” I managed to yell, scrabbling to my feet in a panic. I knocked over my coffee in the process, the caramel-colored liquid splashing all over the place.
He didn’t stand, didn’t move but for clenching his hands into fists by his sides. His eyes looked cold, hard, and for a moment I considered getting the hell out of there, as fast as I could.
He took a deep breath, and I could see the struggle on his face, could see the vein in his temple throb, the muscle in his jaw flicker. Finally, he spoke. “I think I just proved my point.”
“Your . . . your point?” I stuttered, barely able to breathe. “You almost bit me!”
His eyes met mine. “I wasn’t going to bite you, Violet. But you sure as hell thought I was, didn’t you?” His voice was suddenly cold, clipped.
“What, are you saying that you were . . . you were testing me?”
“Something like that.” He nodded, his expression softening. “It’s okay, Violet. You should be scared; I can’t hold it against you. Anyway, I should go.” He got to his feet and brushed off the coffee I’d spilled on his jeans.
I shook my head. “No, not like this.”
He smiled then, a sad smile that almost made my heart break into a million little pieces. “Look, I shouldn’t have scared you like that. You’d already had a bad day, and now this—”
“Don’t go,” I pleaded, hating myself for it. But I didn’t want him to leave, didn’t want him to think I was afraid of him.
But you were, my mind reasoned. You were scared shitless for a second there.
“I’ve got to prove . . . that, you know . . .” I trailed off miserably. The words just weren’t coming.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me. Honestly, I’d think you were a fool if you weren’t frightened. My point is that we should be careful, that’s all.” He glanced down at his watch. “Anyway, you should probably go to dinner. Don’t you have practice later?”
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh.
“Hey, come here.” He pulled me into his embrace, and I went there gladly. “I’ll meet you after practice and walk you back to the dorm, okay?”
I just nodded. My mind was going in a million directions, but somehow it kept coming back to the feel of his lips against my neck, to the fleeting sensation of his teeth against my skin. Sure, I’d been terrified, but I’d been excited, too. It was almost as if . . . as if I wanted him to bite me. It had felt like a craving—a physical craving—like lust, only stronger, more potent.
And the revelation that he’d only been testing me? That should have made me feel better. Instead, I felt disappointment, as if he’d somehow rejected me.
I zipped up my coat to my chin, shivering in the cold night air as I stepped out of the gym and looked around for Aidan. For weeks now, he’d met me each night after practice and walked me back to the dorm. Sometimes we’d linger outside, talking in the moonlight till curfew; other times, he was in a rush to get back to his work. I wondered which it would be tonight.
Glancing up at the crescent moon, I shoved my hands into my pockets. My fingers were turning into icicles, and my muscles, so limber after practice, were beginning to bunch up. The wind picked up, howling between the buildings, bending the branches of the bare trees that lined the walkway. Technically, there was still a week or so of autumn left, but it sure felt like winter to me. Other than the sound of the wind, the night was quiet. I imagined everyone else, tucked inside the cozy café or sitting beside the crackling fire in the East Hall lounge.
I’d give Aidan another couple of minutes, and then I’d start walking back alone. I knew he was working like a madman these last few days before winter break, trying to catch up on his work as best he could before he left for two weeks in Manhattan—two weeks that I’d insisted he spend at home, like everyone else.
I could barely wait—fourteen days in Manhattan, not twenty blocks away from Aidan, no classes, no chemistry labs, and no curfews. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, I realized. I was sure Patsy would enforce some sort of curfew, but I’d have far more freedom there than I did here at school.
More than anything, I didn’t want a replay of Thanksgiving break. Aidan had stayed at Winterhaven, and my friends had all gone off with their families. So I’d mostly sat around the apartment wishing I’d gone to Gran’s instead. The days dragged by—when Patsy hadn’t been at work, she’d be talking about work, and I’d been bored stiff. And that had only been a long weekend, not a two-week vacation. Thank God, Aidan had finally agreed to take the time off and keep me company.
But he wasn’t meeting me tonight, I decided. I briefly considered calling out to him telepathically to make sure, but I didn’t want to interrupt him if he was busy working. After all, his cure was as important to me as it was to him. It was important to us. Because, let’s face it, without it, there was no “us.”
I started off down the lighted walk, then decided to cut through the buildings instead. It was quicker, and anyway, if Aidan came looking for me, he’d find me, path or not. With a shrug, I ducked between the gym and the field house, a route much more direct than the meandering sidewalk.
“C’mon, you freak,” I heard someone say, and I stopped dead in my tracks. Up ahead, just under a flickering light, I saw some guy—a football jock, no doubt—holding a much smaller guy in a headlock.
“If you want me to let you go, all you have to do is shift,” the bully said. “You know you can do it, you little freak. Do it, and I won’t kick the shit out of you.”
“Asshole!” the smaller guy spat out.
Without even thinking about what I doing, I took off at a run toward the two. “Let him go!” I called out.
The jock turned toward me, his eyes glittering in the lamplight. Football team, all right. He was still wearing his practice jersey under his coat. “You talkin’ to me?” he slurred.
“Yeah, I’m talking to you.” I took two steps toward him, refusing to back down, even though my heart was pounding. “All those steroids messing with your head or something? You know what they say about ’roids? They shrink your equipment, if you know what I mean.”
The guy in the headlock actually had the nerve to laugh— which, of course, only made his tormenter angrier. “Do I know you, bitch?” he asked, tightening his hold on his prey.
I saw what looked like a blur, and next thing I knew Aidan had appeared out of nowhere and was on the guy, pinning him to the ground.
I sucked in my breath. “Aidan, don’t!”
As if in slow motion,
he turned toward me. Holy crap, but his eyes were glowing red. Our eyes met and held, and after a second or two, the red glow drained away, replaced by the familiar blue-gray.
“Apologize to her!” Aidan demanded, still pinning the jock to the ground. “To them both.”
The poor guy who had been the jock’s plaything only moments ago now stood a few feet away, watching us. He’d seen those red eyes too. I was sure of it.
“I’m sorry,” came the choked reply. At least the stupid jock had the good sense to sound terrified.
“Thanks for the saving, you two,” the other guy said, “but I’m outta here.” He turned and jogged away.
Aidan finally stood up, towering over the jock’s trembling body. I wrinkled my nose, suddenly smelling something weird, something like . . . pee. Oh my God, the guy had pissed himself. The front of his jeans was dark and wet.
“You leave them alone, all of them,” Aidan said, and I assumed he meant the shape-shifters. “And you even get near her, and I’ll—”
“I won’t, I swear,” he blubbered.
“Get out of here.” Aidan tipped his head toward the gym, and the jock stumbled to his feet and took off in that direction without a backward glance.
Aidan took my hand, cold as ice now, and we continued on. “Don’t you have gloves?” he asked, rubbing my hand between his palms.
“I forgot them,” I said with a shrug.
Neither of us said another word till the dorm came into sight.
“I’m sorry,” he said at last, stopping and taking both my hands in his. “I’m usually in such control, but this . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It’s because of you.” He looked down at me with darkly shadowed eyes. “I would have ripped open his neck.”
“But you didn’t,” I said, my voice a little shaky.
He dropped my hands and raked his fingers through his hair. “This is getting dangerous, Violet. These . . . protective instincts, I’ve never had to deal with something like this. I don’t even understand it.”
“Maybe you should talk to Dr. Blackwell.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “You should go in; you’re freezing.”
“Yeah, I guess. Hey, you’re coming to the tournament Friday night, aren’t you? This is the big one, the All-Ivy tournament.”
His lips curved into a smile. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“You know Patsy’s going to be there, right? She’s going to want to meet you.” I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that, but I figured I might as well get it over with.
“Of course,” he said softly. “I’ll try and leave the beast at home that night.”
“That’s not funny.” My voice was sharp.
I’m sorry. As usual, when he spoke in my mind it felt more intimate, his voice a secret caress. Forgive me?
I wasn’t sure if he meant for the self-deprecating comment, or for what had happened earlier. Either way, it didn’t matter.
“Always,” I said, rising up on tiptoe and pressing my lips against his.
His arms went around me, holding me tight, his kiss stealing away my breath. Finally, he pulled away, pressing his forehead against mine. Our breath mingled, and gooseflesh rose on my skin—but not from the cold.
“Good night, Violet,” he said at last, stepping away from me.
“Good night,” I replied with a sigh, closing my eyes. When I opened them, he was gone.
Twenty minutes later I had showered and changed into my pajamas and was just climbing into bed when my vision began to tunnel. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was no use. The images came anyway.
It was the same as I’d seen before—dusk, the sky almost purple. This time I forced myself to glance around, looking for clues. Daffodils. I saw yellow daffodils in the fading light. We were somewhere on Winterhaven’s grounds—I could see the administration building off in the distance. “Julius, now!” someone called out. A woman’s voice, and I didn’t recognize it. Everything was fuzzy, going in and out of focus, but I realized that my friends were there—some of them, at least. Marissa and Kate. But someone had them, was holding them. “Now, Sâbbat,” someone said. A man, and he was speaking to me. Calling me by some other name. “Now, or your friends die.” I shook my head, my vision blinded by tears. Aidan was there. I called out his name. They wanted me to hurt him, to kill him. I had something in my hand, something smooth, something sharp. “Do it, now!” someone screamed. Marissa. It was Marissa, urging me on. No!
Suddenly I was back in my dorm room, sitting half on the edge of the bed, clutching the sheets. “No!” I screamed it over and over again, and Cece came rushing into the room wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around herself. Her hair was dripping wet as she leaned over me, calling my name.
“Violet! Oh my God, what happened? Violet, talk to me!”
I looked around wildly, my vision slowly coming back into focus.
“No!” I whispered, my throat aching.
“Another vision?” Cece turned and reached for her robe, putting it on over her towel.
I just nodded, my breath coming so fast that I thought I might start to hyperventilate.
“Was it your mom again?”
“No. Aidan,” was all I could say, my voice strangled.
“Does he . . . did you see him get hurt?”
“There were . . . I saw daffodils.”
“Springtime,” Cece said. “Do you want to call him?”
“He’s at the lab, he won’t have his cell.”
“Do you want me to . . . you know. Go find him?” she offered. “I mean, project to him? I’m kind of tired, but I think I could do it.”
She had no idea that I could talk to him anytime I wanted to, telepathically. I shook my head. “N-no. I can . . . it’s okay. I’ll . . . later.” God, I was so messed up, I couldn’t even string together a sentence. My hands were shaking and a bead of cold sweat dripped between my breasts.
Later. In New York. I’d talk to him when we were home, when I’d had time to think about it. Any minute, he’d speak to me; he’d know something happened, he always did when my visions terrified me like that. But I wouldn’t talk it about now—I couldn’t. Not till—
He was there. Outside my window. I had to get rid of Cece, and fast. I took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m fine now, Cee. Really. I just want to go to sleep.”
“You sure? Do you want me to get Mrs. G.?”
“Definitely not. I’m sorry I dragged you out of the shower. Go on, you’ve still got conditioner in your hair. I swear I won’t start screaming again.” I tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a squeak.
For a second she stood there watching me, clutching her towel around herself. Then she nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure. Oops, I’m dripping all over the floor.”
“It’s my fault; I’ll wipe it up. Go, before you catch pneumonia.”
She nodded and scurried out, and as soon as her footsteps disappeared down the hall, I turned the lock on the door. Hurrying to the window, I pulled aside the curtains and lifted it open, trying to be quiet, trying not to draw any attention to my room.
In a flash, Aidan was beside me. I’d known he was there, but still, the shock made me suck in my breath. My room was on the fifth floor. “What happened?” he asked, putting his arms around me. “I sensed your fear; you seemed terrified.”
“Nothing. A vision. This is crazy, you’re going to get caught.” Still, I was so glad to see him.
“I’ll be gone before Cece gets back, and no one will see me. Don’t worry.” I felt his lips on my hair, and my heart slowed to a near-normal rate.
“Do you know someone named Julius?” I asked.
“Julius?”
“Yeah. And there were two others with him, maybe more, because someone had Marissa and Kate. And this Julius guy, he called me by another name. Shabbit or Sabbit or something like that. It was definitely springtime; there were daffodils.”
“Sâbbat?” he said, shaking his head.
“What does it mean?”
“I can’t stay. Cece’s on her way back.” He was halfway out the window already. “But don’t worry, Vi. You’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ll explain it all later, over the holidays, okay?”
“Okay,” I mumbled.
“Close the window. I’m unlocking the door for Cece.”
Just as I pushed the window down, the door opened and Cece stepped inside. “Hey, whatcha doing?”
“I had to get some fresh air,” I lied.
Later, I promise. I heard his voice in my head, and then it was gone.
“It’s pretty cold out there.” Cece shivered.
“I know, sorry. But I feel much better now.”
“Good. You look better, actually. Less pale.”
“Do I really get pale when I have a vision?”
“You have no idea. Scares the crap out of me every time.”
“Oh, yeah?” I countered. “Well, you should see yourself when you’re off traveling. You look like a corpse.”
Cece laughed. “Hey, just be glad you don’t have to room with a shifter!”
“Or Jenna Holley,” I said, not wanting to talk about the shifters.
“Now that would be a nightmare.” Cece started getting ready for bed, and I climbed into my own bed and pulled up the covers.
Later, he’d said. Over the holidays. Three more days of school, and then the tournament on Friday night—that was it. The weekend couldn’t come fast enough. And in the meantime, I wasn’t supposed to worry?
Yeah, right.
19 ~ Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas
That was so embarrassing,” I said, plopping down on the sofa in Aidan’s living room with a sigh. It was Christmas Eve, and we’d just had dinner at a swanky French restaurant on East 65th with Patsy.
Aidan just shrugged. “I had a nice time. I like your stepmother.”
“Yeah, she obviously likes you, too,” I muttered. Considering how much more time she was spending with me now than she did over Thanksgiving, when Aidan hadn’t been around. She still got all flustered and weird around him, though; she dropped her fork three times at dinner tonight. I’m pretty sure the waiter thought she was wasted.