I clearly had no choice. Suppressing a shiver, I responded how I imagined any good fourteenth-century lady would have and accepted his cool hand in mine. Besides, I wanted to get out of there before Carden came out to find us talking. “That would be lovely.”
He stroked my palm, easing way closer to me than was comfortable. “Did you enjoy the concert?”
I lied—of course. “I did. Baroque music is so evocative.” The wind gusted, and I was grateful when my hair blew into my eyes—tucking it behind my ears gave me an excuse to reclaim my hand. After getting my hair burnt off by my psycho roommate, my bangs were growing out in the most frustrating way imaginable.
But then Alcántara paused to bring his own hand to my face, gently pulling a couple errant strands from between my lips. “Que rubia,” he whispered. “Tan rubia.”
So blond. The sentiment and his touch made my skin crawl. Ever since I’d disobeyed his orders while on our mission and rescued Carden myself, our relationship had been different. I’d thought I was no longer his pet. Apparently, I’d thought wrong.
I couldn’t pull away, so instead struggled to change the subject. “I particularly enjoyed the harp,” I said, my voice chirpy. “It must be such a difficult instrument to play.”
Nodding, he tucked my arm in his and continued to walk. “Master Heinrich studied in Vienna.”
As much as I hated music with Master Dagursson, I supposed it could’ve been worse. I could’ve been made to study the harp with Master Heinrich.
Alcántara mistook my silence for contemplation. “Much has been written about the links between music and mathematics in the Late High Middle Ages.”
“Your time period.”
He gave me a satisfied nod. “Indeed. My time period. I’d be happy to tutor you privately in this matter, if you so desired.”
Just what I needed. “That sounds great,” I hedged. One didn’t say no to a vampire. Especially this vampire. “I’m still figuring out my fall schedule, though. But once the dust settles…” I petered out.
I felt the slightest shift in Alcántara’s energy—a stiffening, like that of impatience and disappointment. I hadn’t sounded sufficiently enthusiastic.
Stupid.
My brain scrambled to figure out how to make up for it. I altered my tone, trying to sound very curious. “You served in the court of King Pedro. I can’t imagine a man nicknamed ‘Pedro the Cruel’ could’ve been a big music fan.”
“Pedro was a man of science,” he said distractedly. “But that is not what I came to discuss.”
Dread settled like a rock in my gut. My cheerful attempt at conversation had come too late—it was bait that might’ve worked for a fish, but Alcántara was a shark.
He stopped on the path to face me. His pale features shimmered in the twilight, like polished marble.
Gooseflesh crawled up my arms. How had I ever thought Alcántara was attractive? I complained about many people on this island—Tracer Otto, Master Dagursson, too many Guidons to name—but at least they didn’t terrify me, not like this.
Another sensation followed quick on its heels—that feeling again, of the hair on my neck standing on end, and a cramping, like hunger, deep in my belly.
Carden.
His voice came from behind, sounding cold and angry. “Preying upon young women again, Hugo?”
My eyes went to him at once. My body wanted to go, too—just the sight of him set my hands trembling. I had to fight not to walk mindlessly to him. He stood tall, holding his arms slightly askew, all coiled power.
Why had he come? He’d said we needed distance, but had he somehow sensed my distress?
Alcántara snarled, “Do you not tire of the self-righteousness, McCloud? I know I do.”
“A man always has a choice, and he has but to choose the right thing,” Carden said with a blithe smile, implying a whole universe of subtext that was beyond me.
His proximity seared through me, quickening my pulse, my breath. My throat was parched…thirsty. I was so thirsty. Too late, I realized that while I was watching Carden, Alcántara was watching me.
He turned to Carden with disgust. “You speak of the right thing. Learned men call such statements ironic.” Alcántara directed his next words to me. “McCloud buys into chivalric nonsense.”
“A man must prove his worth,” Carden said nonchalantly.
“His worth?” Alcántara scoffed. “I find the idea barbaric. I suppose you’d call a man unworthy until he’s done battle.”
“Unworthy?” Carden’s expression was dismissive. “Untested is perhaps the better word.”
Alcántara shuddered. “My father had such brutish notions. The real test is how one wields words, for they can be fiercer than any sword. But that is something you savages don’t understand.” He touched a finger to my chin. “You and I, however…We are of like minds, are we not, querida?”
I’d thought Carden might be the jealous type, but never had I imagined this. He looked ready to go ballistic.
I was certain I must’ve looked like a gaping fish as I fumbled to think up a reply that would keep me alive and the two vampires from shredding each other to bits.
But Carden saved me from answering—and if that was chivalry, I was all for it. “Words as swords? Is that what this is?” He smirked. “Some might say words are the tools of cowards who won’t do their own dirty work.”
There were clearly more layers of history in this conversation than I could deal with. I began to back away slowly.
“Stop.” Alcántara halted me in my tracks. He stared at Carden with pure loathing. “Are you quite finished with this vulgar rant?”
But Carden only laughed at him. By the look on Alcántara’s face, he didn’t join in the amusement. It was a dumb move that could get McCloud killed, and I braced for some form of retaliation.
“Have you urgent mathematical issues to discuss instead?” Carden raised a brow. “I’ll leave you to your triangles then.”
He was stupid and gutsy, not giving a care for what anyone else thought. And God help me, watching his strong back as he walked away stole my breath. Carden was all courage, and suddenly it wasn’t a stretch to picture him riding around on a horse, waving a sword.
The moment Carden was out of earshot, Alcántara spun on me, his black eyes boring into me. “As you may have heard, another young woman was exsanguinated.”
“I—I did hear,” I stammered, worried what the abrupt topic change might indicate.
“This time, the victim was not merely a Guidon. She was a Watcher. Those who ascend to Watcher are the cream of the cream. The elite. Such young women are not often caught unawares. Our Watchers do not die easily.”
“Yes,” I said carefully. “I know.” Every alarm in my head shrilled; every shield slammed into place. Why was he discussing this with me? He couldn’t seriously think I had anything to do with it.
“We are very curious as to Master McCloud’s whereabouts yesterday evening. Do you know, querida?”
He’d torn the ground from under me. He suspected Carden. Not only did Alcántara suspect him—I could tell by the look in those coal black eyes that he was after him, guns blazing.
But was this an investigation to discover if McCloud was guilty of murder, or was he also investigating whether he was guilty of being with me?
For all I knew, Alcántara had seen us talking last night, and this was a test to see if I’d lie for Carden. It was a stunt he’d pulled before. “Yes, actually,” I replied as calmly as I could. “We exchanged words in front of the dorm after dinner.”
He put a finger under my chin, like he needed a better angle with which to peer into my traitorous eyes. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, trying to sound blasé. “I’m certain. In fact, Tracer Ronan was there as well.” I cringed instantly. Why had I brought him into this?
Alcántara tilted his head as if to say he found all of this deeply fascinating. “What a compelling trio. Whatever did you discuss?”
“The importance of swimming,” I stammered.
“How peculiar.”
Relief set in. We were on to a new topic. “Ronan—I mean, Tracer Ronan—will be my swim instructor again this term.”
“I see.” He nodded. “Do you know where Master McCloud went after your little tête-à-tête?”
Every muscle in my body seized. Which was worse—Alcántara suspecting that Carden and I were close enough for me to know his comings and goings, or that Carden might have something to do with Watcher Angel’s death?
“I…I don’t know where he went.” And I didn’t. I didn’t know where he went, where he rested, how he spent his time. Carden had told me to keep my distance, and even if I wanted to defy him, I didn’t have the first clue as to how I’d find him.
“I cannot help but note that these unfortunate incidents have coincided with the arrival of McCloud,” Alcántara said, adopting a pose of elegant thoughtfulness. “I wonder if something happened to him in that dungeon. If our enemies poisoned his mind somehow.”
“I couldn’t begin to say.” My words hung, and Alcántara did nothing to fill the silence.
We stood frozen, locked there on the path, but footsteps coming from behind pulled both of us from the moment.
I looked over my shoulder. Who knew I’d be so glad to see my mysterious roommate?
“Hello.” Mei was calm, neither overly formal, nor overly casual. You’d have thought the vampires were an everyday occurrence in Long Island.
“Hey.” I edged from Alcántara to insert myself between them. I’d gathered I was supposed to protect Mei-Ling from outside forces, but at the moment, I wanted to protect her from this vampire the most. “You headed to dinner?”
Her eyes shifted from me to Alcántara and back again. Her expression remained flat, sizing us up like some young Chinese-American Terminator. “Yes.”
“Cool. I’ll be right there.” The perfect excuse to flee. “I saw on the board that it’s pasta night. A girl’s gotta get her carb on. Save me a seat.”
Mei nodded and walked on.
“You must look after her,” Alcántara said to the back of my head.
“So I’ve gathered.” Alcántara, out of everyone, saying I needed to look out for some girl? It was ludicrous. “But why?”
“Acari Mei has promise, and we’d like to nurture that promise.”
“I see.” My voice was calm, but my mind was racing. My suspicions had been correct—Alcántara had been the one behind her kidnapping.
“She has a great musical gift,” he went on, “but her extreme youth does not lend itself to the same physical adeptness as the older Acari.”
I wanted to snark, so why’d you kidnap her if she’s only fifteen? But I only nodded. “I understand.”
“We like to give every guest of the island a fair and equal shot.”
Yeah, right. Seeing as they’d killed her boyfriend, threatened her family, and simply plucked her from some New York suburb to take her for their own, these vamps had a pretty weird concept of protection.
He began walking again. “You are both so gifted, after all.”
I shuffled to catch up, thankful to see the dining hall peeking in the distance.
I’d been right. The vampires had stuck Mei-Ling with me so I’d protect her. But why? Did she know what she was doing here?
Before this went any further, I needed to get to know her better. And quickly, too. Because on the Isle of Night, watching out for someone just as easily meant offering your life for theirs.
CHAPTER NINE
He came for me in the night. I woke to his touch. Gentle pressure stroking up and down my leg.
I stretched, rolled onto my back. The pressure increased until I sensed his individual fingers splayed along the side of my thigh. A light grip, then release. Grip and stroke.
I sucked a breath in through my mouth. Arched my back. I felt languorous, like a cat. I wanted that hand higher. Lower. Something.
Why was he teasing me like this? I wanted him to peel away my blankets. Why didn’t he?
The frustration made me angry. My body pulsed now, needing him. I tried to speak. I wanted to tell him. Why couldn’t I—?
I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest. My heart pounded, its pulse echoing through my body until I throbbed with it.
Carden—where was he?
I widened my eyes and looked around in the darkness. Mei-Ling was in her bed, her breathing deep and even. The clock read 3:02. It was the middle of the night. A dream.
No Carden.
I flopped back, breathing like I’d just sprinted a mile. It was only a dream. I pulled the covers tight under my chin, but it didn’t make me feel any less vulnerable.
I measured my breathing, forcing myself to calm down. A dream, stupid. Carden was out there somewhere, but he wouldn’t know I’d dreamed of him.
Would he?
No, he wouldn’t. It was a silly notion brought on by the vivid sensuality of it. There was a simple explanation: I was coming off the bond and it was giving me fever dreams.
I rolled onto my side, clutching the blankets snugly at my chest until I felt cocooned. It was no good, though. I’d never feel safe.
My throat felt so dry it ached. Hunger clawed at my belly. I curled into a fetal position around the cramping.
My bedside clock ticked. No digital readouts for us, just old-fashioned clock faces with glow-in-the-dark hands, and I watched their slow progress. Tick: 3:12 a.m.; tock: 3:47. Time crawled, but I was too jangled to sleep. And way too uncomfortable.
I tried to think peaceful, meditative thoughts to relax, but it was no good. My mind raced.
Mei-Ling. I needed to help her, but I couldn’t get a bead on the girl. Did she hate me? Or was she just too proud to accept my help? Maybe it was that she somehow knew more than the rest of us about the island, and her stoicism was actually disdain.
Was she shy and longing for a friend? I could think about it all night, but I wouldn’t be figuring that one out anytime soon. So around 4:14, my mind skittered on to the next topic.
The killer. Who was killing girls on the island? A rogue vampire? A Draug? A clever and vengeful Acari?
But all the girls had been drained, and only a few creatures could manage that. Could Trainees do it? Or had one of our vampire enemies come from another island to terrorize us?
Whatever was going on, I had the sinking suspicion that I was getting pulled into the drama. Alcántara was overly curious about Carden, and to know Carden was to discover our bond.
I had to find the killer.
And why not? I was a walking, talking weapon. In several short months, I’d learned sabotage, secrecy, and worse—I’d become one of the world’s most elite killing machines.
I lay there with the thought, trying to muster up fear for my own safety. Investigating the murders would be stupid and dangerous. But it would be even more dangerous for me if something were to happen to Carden. We were tied together now, whether I liked it or not. The need clawing at my belly told me as much.
I rolled onto my side, curling into that empty feeling. At the very least, looking into the murders would be a good distraction.
Planning soothed me, and the next thing I knew I was being shaken awake. I peeled open my eyes. My alarm was ringing. Mei-Ling was saying, “Acari Drew. Wake up.” I’d have sworn I’d been awake just fifteen minutes ago.
My head was throbbing. A dull ache, like a caffeine headache. Or a Carden one.
I moaned. “All right, all right.”
I remembered my dream. It came back full force, bringing with it the ghost of a throbbing between my legs. I threw back the covers. The room was freezing, but I embraced it. Anything to get rid of this heat in my body.
Carden had been right. I needed to stay away from him. I needed space. We needed to sever the bond, because any more dreams like that and I’d be walking in my sleep to find him. I had no doubt I’d be able track him down with my eyes closed.
Scowling, I swung my feet onto the floor and tried to push away the last of my sleep and focus on my day. Monday morning. I’d survived my first weekend of the fall term, and, man, it’d been a rough one. But I had a plan now, and plans were good.
But dressing myself was a struggle. My hands trembled, my body clamoring for Carden. I fumbled with my bootlaces, and it took forever to get them tied. My head felt ready to split in two, my headache a steady pulse in my skull, pounding out my need for him. “I’m going for breakfast.”
Mei studied me. “You’re not going to shower.”
I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question. I scraped my hands through my hair, willing the throbbing to subside. “No shower. I’ve got expeditionary-something class today. Sounds dirty.”
It was with Watcher Priti. She had the looks of a Bollywood star and the ferocity of a ninja—I loved Priti. I should’ve been looking forward to it.…I tried to look forward to it. “What do you have today?” I forced myself to recall Mei-Ling’s schedule. It was mostly independents—not much dirt for her, I bet.
“I’m supposed to have my independent study in Combat this morning, but…”
“But Watcher Angel is dead.” I pulled on my fleece—my teeth were chattering now. “Don’t know what to tell you.” I almost left it at that, but remembered I was supposed to be helping her. Besides, I was aching and feverish. There’d be no investigating anything without food in my belly. “Come with me to the dining hall—we’ll figure it out. I need to eat.”
I needed more than food—I needed Carden’s blood. I had to touch him. I was going to crawl out of my skin if I didn’t. But I couldn’t. So instead I’d get a shooter of refrigerated blood. Maybe sneak a second one. Anything to take the edge off.
I steeled myself, waiting with gritted teeth while Mei-Ling pulled on her uniform.
This wasn’t real. This was the bond ruling my body. He wasn’t my boyfriend. This wasn’t real attraction. It was a chemical reaction. I’d gotten hooked on a drug and was detoxing. My drug was Carden.
I almost knocked on Emma’s door as we passed it, but the silence on the other side told me to leave her alone. Maybe she was showering. Maybe she’d been up late and was sleeping in. Maybe she’d already left. I had no clue. I was psyched for her and her relationship with Yasuo, but it had also inserted the smallest, vaguest bit of distance between us.
Blood Fever_The watchers Page 6