Haven

by Кристи Кук

  She was right, but that didn’t make it okay. I’d never pick on a Goth, so why would I pick on a shape-shifter?

  Fifteen minutes later everyone was gathered in our room, exclaiming over outfits and hairstyles, pretending like the scene at lunch had never happened. I was zipping up my boots when someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” Cece called out, and Kate helped her by opening up the door — from across the room, of course.

  The room went entirely silent as we all looked up and saw Jenna Holley standing there, looking gorgeous, as usual. She must have been six feet tall, thin but not too skinny, with high cheekbones and bright blue eyes. Her hair was a mix of brown and gold — expensive highlights. Everything about Jenna looked expensive, even her clingy black halter dress.

  “Hey, can I talk to you for a sec, Violet?” she said, as if we were friends or something.

  As if perfectly synchronized, everyone’s head swung around toward me, waiting for my reply.

  “Uh, yeah, I guess.” I finished zipping up my boot, and made my way over to the door.

  I felt her gaze sweep from the top of my head down to my toes, as if she was appraising me. “Never mind. I just. here,” she said, holding something out to me. “I’m supposed to give you this. From Aidan.”

  I let her drop whatever it was into my hand, and then she turned and walked away.

  “Well, that was weird,” someone said behind me, and then the door slammed shut on its own.

  I don’t know why, but I felt a little queasy, my heart beating too fast for comfort as I turned around to face them.

  “Well, what is it?” Cece asked, coming to stand next to me.

  Completely bewildered, I opened my fingers and stared down at what lay in my palm.

  All the air left my lungs in a rush. It was a painting, a little miniature painting set in filigreed gold. An antique, I was sure of it. And the woman in the painting.

  Oh. My. God.

  It was me. At least, it looked just like me. Same light brown hair, same green eyes, same smile. Only she was wearing clothes like nothing I’d ever seen, not in this century, or the one before.

  My heart skipped a beat as I turned it over, somehow knowing exactly what I’d find on the back. One word: Isabel. Written in old-fashioned black script. It was Isabel, Aidan’s Isabel, and she looked just like me.

  “What is it?” Cece asked again, taking it from me as I sank to the bed, too stunned to say a word.

  “That’s weird. It’s like a painting of you, in costume or something.” She turned it over, just as I had. “I wonder why it says ‘Isabel’? Maybe she’s the artist or something?”

  Everyone else had gathered around her — Marissa, Kate, Sophie. They were all examining it, passing it around, almost as if they’d forgotten my presence there.

  “But why would Aidan give it to Jenna to give to Violet?” Marissa asked, her voice loud above the din. “Why not give it to her himself?”

  Finally Cece turned toward me. “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re going to puke or something!”

  Bile rose in my mouth, and I swallowed it down, gagging as I did so. How could he keep something like this from me?

  Because he doesn’t care about you, my mind answered. He never did. He’s using you. Because you look like her.

  What other explanation was there?

  “I don’t feel very well,” I mumbled.

  “What’s going on?” Sophie asked, reaching for my hand.

  No! No, I didn’t need her diagnosing me, not right now.

  “I’ll be okay. Just. go on, all of you. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

  “No, I’ll stay with you,” Cece said. “Sophie, can you tell Todd?”

  “No. Please. I swear, I’m fine. I just. I need to be alone right now, okay?”

  “No way,” Cece said, meeting my gaze with her own determined one. “Go on, everyone. Out. We’ll catch up with you later.”

  Mercifully, they obeyed.

  As soon as the door shut behind them, Cece turned toward me. “What’s going on, Violet? And don’t lie to me, I know it has something to do with that picture.”

  I sat back down on the bed, wishing I could disappear, wishing that a vision would come — anything, to get me out of this.

  I swallowed hard before I spoke. “Cece, you’ve got to trust me on this, okay? You’re my best friend, and I feel awful about it, but there are some things about Aidan — about Aidan and me — that I can’t tell you. Not because I don’t want to,” I said quickly, seeing her eyes darken, “but because I really, really can’t. They’re not. not my secrets to tell.” Hadn’t Aidan said something like that about Jenna?

  “Has he done something to you? Has he hurt you or—”

  “It’s nothing like that, Cee. It’s just private, that’s all. I can’t explain it, but this picture — well, I need to talk to him. Now.”

  “You’re scaring me, Violet,” Cece said, her bottom lip trembling. “After what happened with Allison—”

  “This is nothing like that, and I promise you I’m not going anywhere, okay? Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Cece was probably the best friend I’d ever had, and I couldn’t even tell her half of what was going on in my life. It wasn’t fair!

  “What can I do?” she asked, sitting down beside me on the bed.

  “Go on to the dance, and tell everyone I’m not feeling well. Tell them I’ve got cramps or something.”

  She put her arm around my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Okay. But later tonight I’m going to want some answers.”

  I just nodded, knowing full well that I could never give her the answers she wanted.

  Cece stood up, straightening her dress. “And for the record, you’re a much better roommate than Allison was.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured, my heart swelling with affection. “You look great, by the way.” It was the truth. Her slip dress was a deep shade of burgundy, perfect with her skin tone. She wore a little black shrug over it, and her hair was twisted into a knot on the back of her head. “Very sophisticated,” I added.

  “Yeah, well, Todd better appreciate it.”

  “You really like him,” I said, suddenly realizing that I’d been so caught up in my own crazy love life that I’d barely realized what was going on in hers.

  Cece just smiled. “Yeah, I do. And my parents aren’t going to like it, not one bit. Because he’s white, you know? They’re old-fashioned that way.

  They’ll say there are plenty of black guys here at Winterhaven, and. well, anyway, I better go. You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m sure,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

  “Okay, then. Good luck!”

  “Thanks, you too.”

  As soon as she left, I locked the door behind her, promising myself that I’d ask her later if she wanted to talk more about Todd and her parents. I had no idea she had that kind of conflict going on inside that head of hers.

  But now. I had to deal with this. I picked up the miniature again and glanced at it one more time, hoping that maybe I’d been wrong, that I’d somehow exaggerated the resemblance in my mind.

  But I hadn’t. The girl in the painting was still my long-lost twin.

  I need to see you, I called out in my mind. Now.

  I’m in the East Hall lounge, came his reply.

  I grabbed my key and left, the hateful thing still clutched in my sweaty hand.

  As soon as I saw him standing there, my anger began to burn out of control. He looked so cool, so casual. I wanted him to know how pissed I was — I wasn’t even bothering to block my thoughts. Anger, humiliation, rage — it all spilled out of me, and he just stood there, watching me, looking totally indifferent.

  “Not here,” he said at last. “Follow me.”

  For a full five minutes I trailed behind him, down several sets of stairs and unfamiliar corridors. He opened one door, then another. A light flickered on, and the door shut beh
ind us as I looked around.

  It was a tiny room with a desk in one corner, a computer on it, and a daybed against the wall. Opposite the bed were bookshelves, piled high to overflowing. There were no windows, no lights except one overhead fixture.

  “This is your room?” I asked, shocked at how bare it was, how simple and cell-like.

  “I keep a room in the dorms, too. But yeah, I mostly stay here when I’m not in class or the lab.”

  Something dug sharply into my palm, and I remembered the reason I’d followed him there. The miniature. I opened my fingers, revealing it. If he was surprised to see it, he did a good job of hiding it.

  “When were you planning on telling me?” I asked, my voice shaking.

  Aidan shrugged, but it was clear he knew exactly what I was talking about. “Never, if I could get away with it,” he said, and I wanted to slap him.

  “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

  “Because I was afraid you’d react just like this, that’s why,” he said, his arms folded defiantly across his chest.

  “How else am I supposed to react? Look at this thing!” I thrust the miniature at him. “In case you didn’t notice, she looks just like me.”

  He met my eyes, his gaze unwavering. “There’s a resemblance, yes.”

  “A resemblance?” My voice rose a full pitch. “That’s what you call it? She looks exactly like me!”

  “I think you’re exaggerating. Besides, what difference does it make?”

  “Are you kidding me?” I sputtered. “What am I, like her stand-in or something? Do you pretend that I’m her all the time, or just when we’re making out?”

  “I think you need to calm down, Violet,” he said, reaching for my arm.

  I twisted out of his grasp. “Well, at least you got my name right. I am such an idiot. I actually believed that you. you. ” I shook my head, unable to say it.

  “I do love you, Violet. I know you don’t believe me, but my feelings for you have nothing to do with her. I admit, at first I was intrigued. Listen to me, Violet — once I got to know you, it was obvious that you were nothing like her. Nothing. She was selfish and shallow—”

  “Oh, yeah, so much so that you moved in with her. I don’t buy it, not for a minute. It’s been nothing but lies since the day I met you, hasn’t it? I don’t know what game you’re playing—”

  “You really think that I’m. what? Using you? Pretending you’re her? C’mon, Vi, you can’t possibly believe that.” He actually had the nerve to laugh.

  “What else am I supposed to think? I mean, you somehow forgot to mention that I look just like your ex? I’m supposed to think it’s just a coincidence?”

  He looked away, toward the blank wall, the muscle in his jaw flexing. “Look, I don’t even know what it means, okay? I’ve been reading everything I can about Sâbbats, and I’ve found nothing to explain it.” He shook his head before continuing. “All I’ve got is theories, conjecture based on legend.”

  “Like what?” I prodded.

  “Reincarnation. For some sort of. I don’t know, retribution?”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. I was suddenly cold, so cold. “So let me get this straight,” I said, struggling to keep the hysteria from my voice.

  “Now you’re saying I don’t just look like her; I am her? And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “It’s just one theory.” He paused. “I have another.”

  “Go on.” After all, it couldn’t be any worse than the first.

  “The other possibility is that somehow a Sâbbat is born with the face of a. of someone who was important to a vampire in his mortal life. As a form of bait.”

  “What do you mean, a form of bait?” And then it dawned on me. “You mean, to draw the vampire in so that the Sâbbat can. can kill it?”

  He nodded, his jaw tightening. “Exactly. But like I said, it’s all pure conjecture. I’m just cobbling together—”

  “Forget it, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  “So you’re just going to storm out instead, convinced that I’m some kind of asshole who only cares about you because. because what?

  Because you look just like my ex, one who’s been dead for more than a hundred years?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” I muttered. I mean, if he’d told me from the start, if he’d come clean — okay, I wouldn’t have believed him. Or I would have thought he was crazy or something. And yet, he’d had months to tell me, and he’d decided to keep it from me — would still be keeping it from me if it wasn’t for Jenna spilling the beans.

  Read my thoughts, Violet, he said in my mind. Read them, and you’ll know I’m telling the truth.

  “I don’t want to get inside your head anymore,” I said, knowing it was cruel, trying to be cruel. “I’m through with this.”

  “With me, you mean,” he said, his voice so calm, so cool that I wanted to scream. “Just like that, you no longer trust me?”

  “Don’t you see?” I cried, pain tearing through my heart. “How can I ever be sure? How can I know it’s me you love, me you want, and not just the memory of. of her?” I couldn’t even bear to say her name.

  He let out his breath in a rush. “Because I’m telling you so, Violet. Because I’ve never lied to you.”

  “Oh, no. You don’t lie to me. You just omit things, important things. And you don’t seem to realize that that’s just as bad.”

  He flexed his hands by his sides. “If I do, it’s just to spare you, to—”

  “That’s not for you to decide! Don’t you get that?”

  “This is stupid,” he said, his voice hard. “All you have to do is breach my mind, read my thoughts, and you’ll know I’m telling the truth. Why are you being so stubborn?”

  I eyed him sharply. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you couldn’t manipulate your thoughts somehow if you wanted to? That you couldn’t make me see whatever you wanted me to see?”

  He swallowed hard, and I could see the indecision flashing across his features. He’s trying to decide whether or not to lie to me.

  “I could manipulate my thoughts if I wanted to,” he finally said with a nod. “But I wouldn’t do that to you, Violet. You know I wouldn’t.”

  “No, I don’t know that!” I cried. “I. never mind. I’m leaving now. I need some space, some time to think. I have to figure out what I’m going to tell my friends. How am I going to explain this? They know it isn’t me in the painting. How did Jenna get it, anyway?”

  “I have no idea, but you better believe I’m going to find out. Just tell them I found it at an antique shop or something. I bought it because of the resemblance, that’s all.”

  Actually, that wasn’t so bad. Jenna would know I was lying, but I didn’t give a damn.

  And then I had a horrible thought — the vision I’d had, the one where I’d seen me and Aidan in bed together. The bed had seemed old, really oldfashioned. Maybe. maybe my visions were shifting. Maybe I wasn’t flash-forwarding to the future, but flashing back to the past. Maybe the girl I’d seen under him in that bed hadn’t been me, but Isabel.

  I had to know. “Did you ever. you know, with Isabel, after you were turned?”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, though I could tell he knew exactly what I meant.

  “Don’t make me say it, Aidan. Did you or didn’t you? Once you were turned.”

  “I am not having this conversation with you. Not now” was all he said, and that was answer enough. I swallowed hard, trying to push the images out of my mind.

  “Fine,” I bit out, meeting his gaze. For the first time, I didn’t feel that connection, that physical jolt I always felt when our eyes met. Instead his looked cold, distant — a pale, washed-out gray, totally empty of emotion.

  It was happening, I realized. Just as he had warned, just as I had feared. Our feelings for each other were ebbing, replaced by the distrust of two natural-born enemies — vampire and Sâbbat. I no longer trusted his
feelings for me, and he was willing to let me walk away.

  This is what we’d come to.

  And the worst part? I couldn’t even summon the energy to care.

  23

  Friends and Enemies

  I sat at my desk, staring at the window, where gray sheets of driving rain pelted the glass. I had a paper due the next day in history class, and I was supposed to be doing the final edits on it. It was Sunday, and Cece had gone to an afternoon movie with Todd. Kate was with Jack, and Marissa and Sophie were off somewhere, surely having more fun than I was.

  I dropped my head into my hands. I’d been sitting here for nearly three hours, and my paper wasn’t going to get any more polished than it already was. If it wasn’t for the rain, I’d go to the gym and do some practicing, but I didn’t feel like getting drenched, and besides, the damp weather made my shoulder ache like crazy.

  So now that I was done with the paper, there was nothing to do — nobody to do anything with, unless I managed to track down Marissa and Sophie. Not an easy thing to do, considering our cell phones had to stay in our rooms.

  Deciding to check my e-mail, I went online and found a message from Whitney — dated three days ago. Had it been that long since I’d checked my e-mail?

  Hey, Violet! I know it’s been ages since we’ve talked, but I had to tell you the good news — I auditioned for a summer dance program in New York City, and I got accepted! Four weeks, starting in June. I’ll be living in the dorms, but I hope we can hang out some. Maybe I could spend a few days with you and Patsy before it starts? Let me know ASAP if you’ll be around!

  Love, Whit I stared at the screen, a little stunned. Whitney, in New York? I wanted to see her — I really did. But what if she wanted to meet my new friends? It’s not like I could introduce her to them — I mean, I could, but we’d all be hiding something from her, and that just didn’t seem right.

  I’d have to figure something out. She’d been my best friend for ages — the only close friend I’d had, really, for so many years. I felt like a total jerk even considering blowing her off. Of course, Gran had invited me to spend the summer with her in Atlanta, anyway, so it might not even be an issue.