Those Strigoi had then turned on the rest of us and inadvertently revealed something unexpected and alarming (if not to them, then to me). My blood was inedible. They’d tried to drink from me and been unable to. With all the fallout from that night, no one among the Alchemists or Moroi had paid much attention to that small detail—and I was grateful. I was terrified that one of these days someone would think to put me under a microscope.
“That was a fluke,” said Eddie at last. “Not one that’s likely to happen again. Now watch the way my leg moves, and remember that a Moroi will probably be taller than you.”
He did a demonstration, and I cast a quick look at Jill. Her face was unreadable. She never talked about Lee, whom she’d dated briefly. Micah had gone a long way to distract her on the romantic front, but having your last boyfriend want to become a bloodthirsty monster couldn’t be an easy thing to get over. I had a feeling she was still in pain, even if she did a great job at hiding it.
“You’re too rigid,” Eddie told Angeline, after several attempts.
She completely relaxed her body, almost like a marionette. “So, what? Like this?”
He sighed. “No. You still need some tension.”
Eddie moved behind her and attempted to guide her into position, showing her how to bend her knees and hold her arms. Angeline took the opportunity to lean back into him and brush her body suggestively against his. My eyes widened. Okay. Maybe he wasn’t imagining things.
“Hey!” He leapt backwards, a look of horror on his face. “Pay attention! You need to learn this.”
Her expression was pure angelic innocence. “I am. I’m just trying to use your body to learn what to do with mine.” So help me, she batted her eyelashes. Eddie moved back even farther.
I realized I should probably intervene, no matter what Eddie had said about handling his own problems. An even better savior came when the school’s thirty-minute warning bell rang. I jumped up.
“Hey, we should go if we want to get to breakfast in time. Right now.”
Angeline gave me a suspicious look. “Don’t you usually skip breakfast?”
“Yeah, but I’m not the one putting in a hard morning’s work. Besides, you still need to change and—wait, you’re in your uniform?” I hadn’t even noticed. Whenever Eddie and Jill trained, it was always in casual workout clothes—just like he wore now. Angeline had actually come out today in an Amberwood uniform, skirt and blouse, that were showing the wear and tear of a morning’s battle.
“Yeah, so?” She tucked in her blouse where it had started to come undone. The side of it was smudged with dirt.
“You should change,” I said.
“Nah. This is fine.”
I wasn’t so sure, but at least it was better than the jean shorts. Eddie did leave to put on his uniform and never came back for breakfast. I knew he liked his breakfasts, and since he was a guy, he could change clothes pretty quickly. My guess was he was sacrificing food to stay away from Angeline.
I heard my name called as we entered the cafeteria and caught sight of Kristin Sawyer and Julia Cavendish waving to me. Aside from Trey, they were the two closest friends I’d made at Amberwood. I still had miles to go in ever being socially savvy, but those two had helped me a lot. And with all the supernatural intrigue my job involved, there was something comforting about being around people who were normal… and, well, human. Even if I couldn’t be fully honest with them.
“Sydney, we have a fashion question for you,” Julia said. She tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder, her usual sign that what she was about to say was of utmost importance.
“A fashion question for me?” I was almost ready to glance back and see if maybe there was another Sydney standing behind me. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked that.”
“You have really nice clothes,” Kristin insisted. She had dark skin and hair, as well as an athletic air that contrasted with Julia’s more girly nature. “Too nice, actually. If my mom were ten years younger, cool, and had a lot more money, she’d dress just like you.” I didn’t know if that was a compliment or not, but Julia didn’t give me a chance to ruminate.
“Tell her, Kris.”
“Remember that counseling internship I wanted next semester? I scored an interview,” Kristin explained. “I’m trying to decide if I should wear pants and a blazer or a dress.”
Ah, that explained why they were coming to me. An interview. Anything else they could have pulled from a fashion magazine. And while I could admit that I probably was the authority on such practical matters… well, I was kind of disappointed that was what I’d been summoned for. “What color are they?”
“The blazer’s red, and the dress is navy.”
I studied Kristin, taking in her features. On her wrist was a scar, the remnant of an insidious tattoo I’d helped remove, back when Keith’s shady tattoo ring had run rampant. “Do the dress. Wait… is it a dress you’d wear to church or to a nightclub?”
“Church,” she said, not sounding happy about it.
“Dress for sure then,” I said.
Kristin flashed a triumphant look at Julia. “See? I told you that’s what she’d say.”
Julia looked doubtful. “The blazer’s more fun. It’s bright red.”
“Yeah, but ‘fun’ isn’t usually what you want to portray at an interview,” I pointed out. It was hard to keep a straight face with their banter. “At least not for this kind of job.”
Julia still didn’t seem convinced, but she also didn’t try to talk Kristin out of my sound fashion advice. A few moments later, Julia perked up. “Hey, is it true Trey set you up with some guy?”
“I… what? No. Where’d you hear that?” Like I had to ask. She’d undoubtedly heard it from Trey himself.
“Trey said he’d talked to you about it,” said Kristin. “How this guy’s perfect for you.”
“It’s a great idea, Syd,” said Julia, face as serious as if we were discussing a life or death matter. “It’d be good for you. I mean, since school started, I’ve gone out with…” She paused and silently counted out names on her fingers. “… four guys. You know how many you’ve gone out with?” She held up a fist. “That many.”
“I don’t need to go out with anyone,” I argued. “I have enough complications already. I’m pretty sure that would add more.”
“What complications?” laughed Kristin. “Your awesome grades, killer body, and perfect hair? I mean, okay, your family’s a little out there, but come on, everyone has time for a date now and then—or lots, in Julia’s case.”
“Hey,” said Julia, though she didn’t deny the charge.
Kristin pushed forward, making me think she was more suited to a legal internship than a counseling one. “Skip homework for once. Give this guy a shot, and we can all go out together sometime. It’d be fun.”
I gave them a forced smile and murmured something noncommittal. Everyone has time for a date now and then. Everyone but me, of course. I felt a surprising pang of longing, not for a date but just for social interaction. Kristin and Julia went out a lot with a larger group of friends and love interests and often invited me on their outings. They thought my reticence was because of homework or, perhaps, no suitable guy to go with me. I wished it were that simple, and suddenly, it was as though there was a huge chasm separating me from Kristin and Julia. I was their friend, and they had welcomed me to every part of their lives. Meanwhile, I was full of secrets and half truths. Part of me wished I could be open with them and able to confide all the woes of my Alchemist life. Heck, part of me just wished I really could go on one of these outings and let go of my duties for a night. It would never work, of course. We’d be out at a movie, and I’d probably get texted to come cover up a Strigoi slaying.
This mood wasn’t uncommon for me, and it began lightening as I started my school day. I fell into the rhythm of my schedule, comfortable in its familiarity. Teachers always assigned the most work over weekends, and I was pleased to be able to turn in all that I’
d done on my plane rides. Unfortunately, my last class of the day derailed all the progress of my mood. Actually, class wasn’t the right word. It was an independent study I had with my history teacher, Ms. Terwilliger.
Ms. Terwilliger had recently revealed herself to be a magic user, a witch of sorts or whatever those people referred to themselves as. Alchemists had heard rumors of them, but it was nothing we had a lot of experience with or facts about. To our knowledge, only Moroi wielded magic. We utilized it in our lily tattoos—which had trace amounts of vampire blood—but the thought of humans producing it in the same way was crazy and twisted.
That was why it was such a surprise when Ms. Terwilliger not only revealed herself to me last month but also ended up kind of tricking me into wielding a spell. It had left me shocked and even feeling dirty. Magic was not for humans to use. We had no right to manipulate the world like that; it was a hundred times worse than what Sonya had done to the red lily on the street. Ms. Terwilliger insisted I had a natural affinity for magic and had offered to train me. Why she wanted this, exactly, I wasn’t sure. She’d gone on and on about the potential I had, but I could hardly believe she’d want to train me without a reason of her own. I hadn’t figured out what that might be, but it didn’t matter. I’d refused her offer. So, she’d found a work-around.
“Miss Melbourne, how much longer do you think you’ll be on the Kimball book?” she called from her desk. Trey had picked up “Melbourne” from her, but unlike him, she seemed to constantly forget that wasn’t my actual name. She was in her forties, with mousy brown hair and a perpetually cunning glint in her eyes.
I looked up from my work, forcing politeness. “Two more days. Three at most.”
“Make sure to translate all three of the sleep of spells,” she said. “Each has its own nuances.”
“There are four sleep spells in this book,” I corrected.
“Are there?” she asked innocently. “I’m glad to see they’re making an impression.”
I hid a scowl. Having me copy and translate spell books for research was how she taught me. I couldn’t help but learn the texts as I read them. I hated that I’d been ensnared, but it was too late in the school year to transfer out. Besides, I could hardly complain to the administration that I was being forced to learn magic.
So, I dutifully copied her spell books and spoke as little as possible during our time together. Meanwhile, I simmered with resentment. She was well aware of my discomfort but made no attempts to alleviate the tension, leaving us in a stalemate. Only one thing brightened those sessions.
“Look at that. It’s been nearly two hours since my last cappuccino. It’s a wonder I can function. Would you be kind enough to run to Spencer’s? That should finish us out for the day.” The last bell had rung fifteen minutes ago, but I’d been putting in some overtime.
I was already closing the spell book before she finished speaking. When I’d begun as her assistant, I’d resented the constant errands. Now, I looked forward to the escape. Not to mention my own caffeine fix.
When I reached the coffee shop, I found Trey was just starting his shift, which was great—not just because he was a friendly face, but because it meant discounts. He began making my order before I even placed it since he knew the drill by now. Another barista offered to help, and Trey gave him meticulous instructions on what to do.
“Skinny vanilla latte,” said Trey, grabbing the caramel for Ms. Terwilliger’s cappuccino. “That’s sugar-free syrup and skim. Don’t mess it up. She can sniff out sugar and 2% milk a mile away.” I suppressed a smile. Maybe I couldn’t reveal Alchemist secrets to my friends, but it was nice to know they at least knew my coffee preferences backwards and forwards.
The other barista, who looked to be our age, gave Trey a droll look. “I’m well aware of what skinny means.”
“Nice attention to detail,” I teased Trey. “I didn’t know you cared.”
“Hey, I live to serve,” he said. “Besides, I need your help tonight with that lab write-up from chem. You always find things I miss.”
“It’s due tomorrow,” I chastised. “You had two weeks. I’m guessing you didn’t get much done in your cheerleader study session.”
“Yeah, yeah. Will you help me out? I’ll even go to your campus.”
“I’ll be up late with a study group—a real one.” The opposite sex was banned from our dorms after a certain hour. “I could meet you on Central Campus afterward if you want.”
“How many campuses does your school have?” asked the other barista, setting down my latte.
“Three.” I reached eagerly for the coffee. “Like Gaul.”
“Like what?” asked Trey.
“Sorry,” I said. “Latin joke.”
“Omnia Gallia in tres partes divisa est,” said the barista.
I jerked my head up. Not much could have distracted me from coffee, but hearing Julius Caesar quoted at Spencer’s certainly did.
“You know Latin?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. “Who doesn’t?”
Trey rolled his eyes. “Only the rest of the world,” he muttered.
“Especially classical Latin,” continued the barista. “I mean, it’s pretty remedial compared to Medieval Latin.”
“Obviously,” I said. “Everyone knows that. All the rules became chaotic in the post-Empire decentralization.”
He nodded agreement. “Although, if you compare it to the Romance languages, the rules start to make sense when you read them as part of the larger picture of the language’s evolution.”
“This,” interrupted Trey, “is the most messed-up thing I’ve ever seen. And the most beautiful. Sydney, this is Brayden. Brayden, Sydney.” Trey rarely used my first name, so that was weird, but not nearly as weird as the exaggerated wink he gave me.
I shook Brayden’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” he said. “You’re a Classics fan, huh?” He paused, giving me a long, considering look. “Did you see the Park Theatre Group’s production of Antony and Cleopatra this summer?”
“No. Didn’t even know they performed it.” I suddenly felt kind of lame for not having known that, as though I should be up on all arts and culture events in the greater Palm Springs area. I added by way of explanation, “I only moved here a month ago.”
“I think they have a couple performances left in the season.” Brayden hesitated once more. “I’d see it again if you wanted to go. Though I’ll warn you—it’s one of those reinterpreted Shakespeare productions. Modern clothes.”
“I don’t mind. That kind of reinterpretation is what makes Shakespeare timeless.” The words rolled automatically off my lips. As they did, I suddenly had one of those epiphany moments where I realized there was more going on than I’d initially thought. I replayed Brayden’s words. Between that and Trey’s enormous grin, I soon had a startling realization. This was the guy Trey had been telling me about. My “soul mate.” And he was asking me out.
“This is a great idea,” said Trey. “You kids should totally go see that play. Make a whole day of it. Grab some dinner and hang out at the library or whatever it is you do for fun.”
Brayden met my eyes. His were hazel, almost like Eddie’s but with a little green. Not as much green as Adrian’s, of course. No one’s eyes were that amazingly green. Brayden’s brown hair occasionally picked up glints of gold in the light and was cut in a no-nonsense way that showed off the angles of his cheekbones. I had to admit, he was pretty cute. “They perform Thursday through Sunday,” he said. “I’ve got a debate tournament over the weekend… could you do it Thursday night?”
“I…” Could I? There was nothing planned, so far as I knew. About twice a week, I took Jill to the home of Clarence Donahue, an old Moroi who had a feeder. Thursday wasn’t a scheduled feeding night, though, and technically I wasn’t obligated to go to experiment nights.
“Of course she’s free,” Trey jumped in before I could even answer. “Right, Sydney?”
“Yes,”
I said, shooting him a look. “I’m free.”
Brayden smiled. I smiled back. Nervous silence fell. He seemed as unsure as I was about how to proceed. I would have thought it was cute, if I wasn’t so worried that I looked ridiculous.
Trey elbowed him sharply. “This is the part where you ask for her number.”
Brayden nodded, though he didn’t look like he appreciated the elbowing. “Right, right.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “Is it Sydney with a y or i?” Trey rolled his eyes. “What? I’m guessing the former, but as naming conventions become increasingly untraditional, you never know. I just want to get it right in my phone.”
“I would have done the same thing,” I agreed. I then told him my phone number.
He looked up and smiled at me. “Great. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” I said, and actually meant it.
I left Spencer’s in a daze. I had a date. How on earth did I have a date?
Trey hurried out to me a few moments later, catching me as I was unlocking my car. He still wore his barista apron. “Well?” he asked. “Was I right, or was I right?”
“About what?” I asked, though I had a feeling I knew what was coming.
“About Brayden being your soul mate.”
“I told you—”
“I know, I know. You don’t believe in soul mates. Still,” he grinned, “if that guy isn’t perfect for you, then I don’t know who is.”
“Well, we’ll see.” I balanced Ms. Terwilliger’s cup on top of the car, so I could drink from my own. “Of course, he doesn’t like modern Shakespearean interpretations, so that might be a deal breaker.”
Trey stared at me in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“No,” I said, giving him a look. “I’m kidding. Well, maybe.” The latte Brayden had made me was pretty good, so I was willing to give him the benefit of a doubt on the Shakespeare thing. “Why do you care so much about my romantic life anyway?”
The Golden Lily: A Bloodlines Novel Page 6