by Kristi Cook
Ever since then, we’d spent every evening in the loft, training. He must have been working in the lab late into the night. The shadows under his eyes were the worst I’d ever seen them, and he seemed constantly irritated with me, as if I weren’t trying hard enough.
“When are you going to admit that I’m not ready for this yet?” I snapped, knowing that as far as Sâbbat legend went, I hadn’t come of age. I wasn’t supposed to be able to do this stuff yet. Still, he insisted on trying to teach me, which only made me feel like a failure when I couldn’t get it right. “Ten tries, and I got, what? Two right? I just can’t do it.”
“You can do it,” he countered. “You can breach my mind and hear my thoughts. This isn’t all that different. Which reminds me, did you ever try with Dr. Blackwell?”
“Yeah, in class the other day. Nothing.” More failure.
He nodded. “I didn’t really expect you to be able to. Like I said, he’s a special case. It’s too bad there aren’t any other vampires around for you try it out on.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, my voice rising. “Anyway, I should be in the gym right now, practicing. For the upcoming tournament. We’re in the regional finals, you know.” I had a title to defend.
His steely gaze softened. “I know, and I’m sorry, Vi. Maybe I have been pushing you too hard.”
“You think?” I said acidly.
“It’s just that spring’s almost here, and we need to be prepared. Just in case. I can’t take any chances with your life, not when—”
“According to my visions, it’s your life we should be worried about,” I snapped. “Yet you refuse to even talk to Dr. Blackwell about it—”
“I’m taking every precaution necessary, Violet.” He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, and immediately I felt bad. He looked exhausted. Paler than usual, his eyes the only bright spot of color in his face.
“I’m sorry, Aidan,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’m tired, and I miss just hanging out with you. You know, staring at the stars, talking about whatever. All this training is killing me.”
He reached for my hand, and I shivered when he laced his cold fingers with mine. An electric jolt went through my body at his touch—our connection. So it wasn’t totally gone, not yet.
“You’re right, it’s too much. It’s easy to forget that you’re not . . . well, that you’re a mortal, with a mortal’s limitations.”
He looked so sad, so lonely. I gave his hand a squeeze and scooted closer to him. “So, is it happening yet? You know, your feelings for me, changing?”
He smiled—a slow, bittersweet smile that made my breath hitch in my chest. “Do you want to check for yourself? Go on, read my thoughts,” he offered.
“I’d rather you just told me.”
A dark look flashed across his face, and then it was gone. He bent his head toward me, his lips just inches away from mine. “No, Violet. My feelings haven’t changed. Do you wish they had?”
“Of course not,” I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. We stayed just like that—staring into each other’s eyes, his mouth inches from mine—for several moments.
And then his mouth came down on mine—hard. I felt myself shudder, a ribbon of cold running down my spine. A fierce heat soon replaced the cold as he pressed me back against the blanket, his body held rigid above me while his lips crushed mine. I couldn’t help myself—my hands were under his shirt before I thought better of it, exploring the taut muscles of his stomach, his chest. My fingers tingled as they skimmed over his cold skin, as if electric currents flowed between us.
Somehow I was pushing up the soft material of his shirt, wanting it off, wanting to remove the barriers between us. I felt him shudder, heard him say my name against my lips.
Next thing I knew, my wrists were manacled in his grip as he dragged me to a sitting position beside him. “You’ve got to stop that,” he groaned, his face buried in my neck. “My God, I can barely control . . . I can hardly rein it in anymore.”
Every reasonable part of my brain told me that I should shove him away; that his teeth were way too close to my neck. And yet . . . I didn’t. I couldn’t. My mind was spinning, trying to find a solution, something that would satisfy us both.
“What if I pricked my finger or something?” Oh my God, what was I saying? I couldn’t stop the crazy words from spilling from my mouth. “Would it help if you had just a taste, or—”
“I would suck you dry in a matter of minutes,” he said, thrusting me aside. “Don’t ever suggest something like that again, do you hear me? Just . . . just give me a second.”
He was fighting against it, the bloodlust. By now I recognized the signs. The cords on his neck stood out, a vein in his temple throbbed. His jaw was clenched, his hands fisted by his sides.
Sadness filled me as I watched his struggle, knowing there was nothing I could do to help him; there would never be anything I could do to help him.
“Aidan, look at me,” I said miserably. “Please, just look at me.”
He did, and I sucked in my breath at the sight of his eyes glowing faintly red, his canine teeth just a little longer than usual. Would I ever get used to it, seeing him like this?
“I don’t understand what’s happening . . . this change,” he said, sounding almost strangled. “The hunger . . . it’s never before been associated with physical desire, not for me. And now, with you, the two are somehow intertwined. I don’t want to hurt you. I swore I wouldn’t.”
“You won’t hurt me, Aidan,” I said, feeling less sure of it than I sounded. It was a stupid thing to say, anyway, with the evidence to the contrary right before my eyes. I scrabbled away from him, wanting to make it easier on him.
He dropped his head into his hands. “I want to be rid of this,” he said, his voice breaking. “A few more years and . . .” He trailed off, raising his gaze back to mine. I could have sworn his eyes were damp. I’d never seen him like this—weak and vulnerable. It nearly cleaved my heart in two.
“It gets worse as a vampire ages, you know,” he continued. “More and more, they disconnect from the mortal self they used to be. You can tell by looking at their eyes. The paler, more washed-out they are, the older, more dangerous a vampire is. It will happen to me, sooner or later.”
“But not for a while, right?” I ventured. After all, he was already pretty old, and I couldn’t see any of what he described in his eyes. Time moved slowly in vampire years.
“Yes, but don’t you see? The stakes are higher now. You’ve given me hope, when I had none. I cannot fail, not now.”
I just swallowed hard, unsure of what to say, how to comfort him. It seemed best to keep my distance, and yet I wanted to hold him, to wrap him in my arms and tell him that everything would be okay. But it wouldn’t—how could it? How could I make such a promise, knowing full well that if he didn’t find his cure, he was doomed to this existence forever?
“What’s going to happen to us?” I asked, my voice nearly a whisper. “I mean, how is this going to end? I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”
He took a deep, ragged breath before he spoke, his eyes full of despair. “There are only two ways it can end, Violet. Either I find a cure, or you fulfill your destiny and destroy me. There’s no other way.”
“Then find a cure, Aidan,” I said, my voice shaky. “And find it fast.”
Practice was canceled. Three of my teammates were down with a stomach bug, and in the interest of keeping everyone else healthy, the coach decided it was probably better if we took the rest of the week off.
I glanced at my watch, wondering where Aidan was and what he was doing. He’d been pretty scarce the past couple of weeks, throwing himself back into his research, more determined than ever to find his cure.
I’ll go to the lab and see how it’s going. Once or twice I’d joined him there, but I mostly felt in the way. It wasn’t like I was any help.
Still, I wanted to see him. Needed to. I knew what he was doing was
important, that he felt the time slipping away more keenly than I did. But it didn’t change the fact that I missed him. I would stop by and say hi, that was all—I wouldn’t disturb him if he was busy working.
I jogged to the lab, figuring I could use the exercise. A few minutes later, I pushed open the door and stepped inside, slightly breathless from taking the stairs two at a time. Aidan was there alone, slumped in a chair, a hypodermic needle lying on the black-topped table in front of him.
“What are you doing?” Wincing at the stitch in my side, I hurried over to where he sat, looking almost lifeless.
He shook his head, barely acknowledging my presence. “Nothing. Damn it, nothing.”
I noticed then that one of his sleeves was rolled up to his shoulder, exposing one pale bicep. Reaching down, I ran the pads of my fingers over his smooth skin and across what was clearly a needle-puncture mark. “Is that what you do? Inject yourself with whatever you’re working on? I thought the elixir was something you drank?”
“It is,” he answered distractedly, “but the cure has to be injected intravenously. I really thought I had it this time. There don’t seem to be any ill effects. Just . . . nothing.”
My stomach knotted with fear. “Ill effects? What, you mean like a reaction or something?”
He finally swiveled his head around to look at me. “There’s no other way to test the cure but to inject it in myself.”
“But . . . but is that safe?” I stuttered, horrified by the idea of him using himself as a guinea pig. “There must be some other way to test it out.”
He shook his head. “There’s no other way. Anyway, what’s the worst that could happen? Turn myself into some other kind of monster?”
“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” I snapped.
“Sorry, Vi.” He reached for my hand and held it tightly in his. “Anyway, I’m usually pretty careful, and if there was any other way . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head. “But there isn’t, and occasionally I have to pay the price.”
“Is that why you disappear sometimes?” He’d been gone for two full days last week. Gone, with no word, no message. I’d assumed he’d been caught up in his work.
He nodded, releasing my hand to rub the reddened spot on his arm. “Some reactions are worse than others. Normally I wait till I’m in my room to inject it. But this time I was so sure . . .” He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Anyway, I thought you had practice.”
“I did. Canceled. How can you be sure it isn’t working?” I glanced back down at the needle. “I mean, would you notice right away?”
“I take a blood sample.” He tipped his head toward a microscope on the table beside us. There was a glass slide still sitting beneath the lens, a bright splotch of red on it. “I already checked.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling stupid. “Oh, well.”
He said nothing in reply, just continued sitting there staring at the table. I’d never seen him look so down, so defeated.
“You’ll get it right someday, Aidan. Soon,” I added.
He rose from his seat. “You should go. I’m going to work on this a little more tonight, see if I can make a few changes in the formula and try again.”
“I’ve got some homework to do, anyway,” I said, even though I’d pretty much finished it all during study hour. He was clearly in no mood for company. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep. Don’t stay in here all night, okay?”
He shook his head. “I’m not making any promises. It’s not like the lack of sleep is going to kill me.”
I rolled my eyes in frustration. “You’re impossible.”
His gaze met mine, steady and insistent now. “Maybe, but now I’ve got more reason than ever to get this right.”
Tears burned behind my eyelids. “I know. I want this as much as you do, Aidan.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow in class.” He leaned toward me and kissed me on the forehead.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I mumbled, hoping I could make it out the door before the tears began to fall.
22 ~ Cupid’s Prank
It was Valentine’s Day. In case you somehow managed to forget, there were red streamers and little cupid cutouts all over the dining hall—you know, subtle reminders. I shook my head in amazement. The holiday committee had really gone above and beyond the call of duty.
“What is that?” Kate asked, glancing down at my plate.
“Chicken salad,” I said, pushing aside the half-eaten sandwich. “I think they put red food coloring in it.” Instead of looking festive, it just looked gross. I’d taken two bites, but couldn’t stomach the rest.
“That’s disgusting,” Kate said. “I think I’m going to hit the salad bar today.”
“Yeah, me too.” Cece traipsed off after her, leaving me, Sophie, and Marissa alone at the table.
“So, are you and Aidan going to the dance tonight?” Sophie asked.
“Yep.” I opened a bag of chips. “For a little while, at least. Are you going with Jack’s friend? What’s his name, Ben?”
Sophie sighed. “Yeah, why not? It’s not like anyone else asked me.”
“You could have asked someone else,” Marissa offered. “If there’s someone you’d rather go with, that is.”
“Does this mean you asked Dean to go with you?” Sophie launched back. Everyone knew that Marissa was crushing on Dean Wilson, a senior who was an empath, like her.
“Course not.” Marissa reached for my bag of chips and helped herself. “I like to play hard to get.”
“I’m going to get another Coke,” I said, pushing back from the table.
“Hey, get me a Diet Coke, will you?” Marissa asked.
Nodding, I stood and headed toward the fountain drinks. I had to pass the table of so-called shifters, and I couldn’t help but steal a peek at them, trying to see if I could recognize the guy who had been terrorized by the obnoxious jock back before Christmas break.
There he was, at the end of the table. Kind of small, with a shock of blond hair that fell across his forehead. Our eyes met briefly before I looked away, my cheeks suddenly burning. He’d seen Aidan’s eyes; he knew too much. I continued on toward the drinks, trying not to think about it.
“Hey, Violet, isn’t it?”
I spun around, and the shifter guy was right there beside me. “Yeah, um, hi,” I said, feeling like an idiot.
“I never got to thank you,” he said, his brown eyes earnest. “You know, for that night.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” I waved one hand dismissively. “It was no big deal.”
“Yeah, it was, actually. No one here ever stands up for my kind. Besides, Scott was wasted and who knows what he might have done to both of us if your boyfriend hadn’t shown up when he did. Anyway,” he went on, “I’m Joshua. And if I can ever do anything for you—you know, return the favor somehow . . . well, I owe you one. You and Aidan.”
“Thanks.” I cleared my throat, wondering how much he’d seen that night. Just the eyes, or the fangs, too? “I mean, I really appreciate the offer, and I, uh, I’ll tell Aidan.”
“Cool. Later, then,” he said with a nod. Again, our eyes met and held for a fraction of a second. There was something honest about his gaze—something reassuring. No matter what he’d seen, he wouldn’t betray us. I don’t know how I knew it, but I did. Joshua was a friend, an ally. I had come to his aid when no one else would, and now he would come to mine, if need be.
I took a deep breath before continuing on, feeling my friends’ eyes on me the whole time. They were going to want to know what we’d talked about, and I’d have to come up with something plausible. I just hoped they weren’t going to make any snide remarks about the shifters, because frankly I wasn’t in the mood to listen to it. Maybe it was time to tell them how I really felt about their prejudices where the shifters were concerned.
Feeling emboldened, I got the drinks and headed back toward the table. Cece and Kate had returned and taken their seats, and everyone looked up at me exp
ectantly as I settled back into my chair.
“So,” Marissa drawled. I knew she’d be first. “What was that shifter freak saying to you?”
I felt myself flush as I handed Marissa her Diet Coke. “First of all, his name is Joshua,” I bit out. “Second of all, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call him a freak. Or any of them, for that matter.”
“Whoa, what’s gotten into you?” Kate asked as she speared a cucumber slice.
“Nothing.” I sighed heavily. “It’s just that I don’t really like the way y’all talk about them. The shifters, I mean. It’s not like they did anything to you. Can’t you just leave them be?”
“You have to admit, it’s a little freaky,” Sophie said. “I mean, c’mon, they’re shape-shifters!”
“How is that any more freaky than what the rest of us can do? Where’s your compassion?”
Marissa stared at me like I’d grown two heads or something, her catlike eyes narrowed to slits. “Is there something going on with you and this Joshua dude?”
“No, of course not. He’s just a . . . a friend,” I sputtered. “I barely even know him.”
“Maybe he’d like to get to know you,” Kate said, raising her brows suggestively. “Give Aidan some competition.”
“Actually, that’s not such a bad idea,” Marissa said. “Keep Aidan on his toes, and all that. I just think you could do better than a shifter—”
“I’ll see y’all later,” I said, standing up abruptly and reaching for my tray.
Cece rose too. “Hey, I’ll come with you.”
I couldn’t even meet her eyes. “No, that’s okay. I’ve got . . . I’m meeting Aidan before fourth period.”
I wasn’t really meeting Aidan, but I had to get away from them—all of them. I’d spend some time in my room before my next class, banging things around till I felt better.
They were all staring at me as I stomped off, but I didn’t care. It was Valentine’s Day, my first Valentine’s Day with a serious boyfriend—or any kind of boyfriend, for that matter. I wanted to enjoy it, to savor it, no matter how weird things were between Aidan and me at the moment.