Mirage

by Kristi Cook

  “Do you remember that day?” I asked. “The day that photograph was taken?”

  “I do now.”

  “Tell me about it,” I pressed, overcome with a reckless desire to feed my morbid curiosity.

  “No,” he said resolutely. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, but no.”

  And then, I swear I didn’t do anything—not consciously, at least—but images began to flood my mind. I shut my eyes and pressed my fingers against my temples as the images shifted into focus.

  Isabel was standing in the studio, the one from the photograph, holding a scrap of fabric across her naked breasts. She was walking toward me. No, toward Aidan, I realized. I was seeing the scene through his eyes.

  A high-pitched buzz softened into recognizable sounds—the muffled notes of a piano; the sound of something striking the floor in perfect rhythm; voices. All muffled. From another room, another studio, perhaps.

  “You liked watching as Guillaume photographed me,” Isabel said, smiling flirtatiously. “It excited you, didn’t it?”

  Somehow I expected her to sound like me, but she didn’t. Her accent was pronounced, her voice more breathy than mine.

  “Perhaps it did,” a male voice answered. Aidan, though he sounded different—far more British, more refined. Older, somehow.

  Isabel took several steps toward him, moving gracefully across the wooden floor. “Show me, then,” she said, releasing the scrap of fabric she’d been clutching to her chest.

  “Enough!” I cried out. “Stop it.”

  “I didn’t do anything, Violet,” Aidan said, his features stony. “You did. You breached my mind.”

  I shook my head. “How? I wasn’t trying, I swear.”

  “I guess you’re getting stronger. The closer you get to your birthday, the stronger your Sâbbat tendencies will become.”

  “You don’t know that,” I argued, even though it made perfect sense. Still, I didn’t want to think about—didn’t want to consider the possibilities. “Anyway, my birthday is still five months away.”

  “And each day that passes brings you one day closer.”

  “Well, aren’t you Mr. Philosophical today,” I said sourly, then dropped my head into my hands. “I’m sorry, Aidan,” I said, my throat tight. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  He reached for my hand and brought it to his lips. Prickles of electricity ran up my arm, making me shiver. “Today was a strain. That picture …” He trailed off, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “You have no idea how sorry I am. Sorry that it exists. Sorry that you saw it. Sorry that I lived such a shallow, callous mortal life.”

  “Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. He had every right to his past, relationships and all. Just because I hadn’t ever been seriously involved with anyone before him didn’t mean I should expect the same from him—especially considering just how long his past was. “You have no reason to apologize, Aidan. Seriously.”

  He shook his head. “I have so many regrets, Vi. But you”—he brought my hand to his heart—“you’re the one thing in my life that I don’t regret. This heart beats only for you.”

  “You’re going to make me cry,” I said, my voice thick.

  Aidan laughed. “Don’t cry, love. Tyler knows something’s up—even now, he keeps turning around to watch us.”

  “That’s Tyler’s problem.” I leaned toward Aidan, pressing my lips against his jaw, just where it curved down toward his throat.

  Together, we slid down in the seat, away from prying eyes. I heard him sigh, felt the muscles in his jaw relax. “Was that for Tyler’s benefit or mine?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  “Take your pick,” I answered coyly. But speaking silently inside my head, I told a different story. For you, I said. Always for you.

  He grasped the back of my neck and drew my face toward his, kissing one damp eyelid, then the other. Until the day I die, came his voice inside my head.

  I took it as a good sign that he’d said “until I die” rather than “until I’m destroyed.”

  “You two, there in the back,” bellowed Dr. Andrulis from the front of the bus. “I want to be able to see your faces.”

  My cheeks flaming with embarrassment, I scooted back in the seat, sitting up straight now. Aidan did the same. As the bus lurched forward, I laid my head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the snickers from several seats away.

  Tyler, no doubt.

  13 ~ Timeless

  Okay, what do you think?” I spread my arms wide and turned in a slow circle. I’d spent all summer dragging Whitney from one vintage shop to the next, putting together the perfect costume for the Halloween Fair dance. More than anything, I hoped Aidan appreciated the effort.

  Cece let out her breath in a rush. “Oh. My. Freaking. God! You look amazing!”

  I laughed nervously, glancing in the mirror above my dresser. Okay, I looked good, but not that good. Cece, on the other hand …

  “You know you look gorgeous, right?” I asked her.

  She smoothed her hands down the front of her gown. She was supposed to be some sort of Greek goddess—I wasn’t quite sure which one, but it didn’t matter, really.

  The draped white fabric hugged her body, setting off the rich hue of her skin to perfection. One shoulder was left bare, dusted with sparkly gold powder that matched the metallic shadow on her eyelids.

  Somehow she’d managed to pile her hair high on her head and wrap it with gold wire. Strappy gladiator sandals completed the look.

  “I can’t wait to see Tyler’s face,” I said, reaching up to adjust my enormous hat. “How am I going to fit through the doorway in this thing?”

  Cece laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you. Anyway, I don’t think Tyler’s all that interested in me.”

  “Well, he did ask you. It’s not like he had to. He could have hung with us regardless, right?”

  She shrugged. “I guess. What do you think—pink lip gloss or this berry-colored one?” She held up two plastic tubes.

  “Hmm, I vote for pink. You don’t want to take the focus away from your eyes.”

  “Pink it is.” Leaning across the dresser so she could see her reflection in the mirror, she carefully applied the gloss, then put the tube into the little purse she was carrying. “Okay, you ready?”

  I took one last glance at myself in the mirror and smiled. Yeah, I was ready.

  “Let’s go meet the guys,” Cece said with a grin.

  When we stepped into the East Hall lounge two minutes later, they were there waiting, standing by one of the long brown couches. Aidan had his back to us, his hands shoved into his pockets as he gazed out the window. Beside him, Tyler watched our approach with wide eyes.

  “You call that a costume?” Cece called out to him. “Cheater.”

  He had applied black construction paper circles to his regular clothes—rumpled khakis and a white button-down shirt.

  “It’s a costume,” he protested. “I’m polka-dot Tyler.”

  Cece shook her head, laughing. “That is so lame.”

  “Hey, I thought it was creative. You look amazing, by the way.” He eyed her appreciatively, a glint in his clear green eyes.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, actually fluttering her lashes at him.

  I gave her my “I told you so” look as Tyler turned to appraise my costume. “And you …” He trailed off, nudging Aidan in the ribs. “I definitely think the boyfriend will approve.” With that, he took Cece’s hand and led her away.

  Taking a deep breath, I smoothed down my dress. The lady at the vintage shop had called it an Edwardian tea gown—a reproduction, of course, but a good one made from delicate black lace over a beige shift. The fluttery hem fell against my calves, tickling them.

  I’d paired it with several strands of fake pearls and low-heeled black kidskin shoes. The wide, sweeping hat on my head, trimmed with silk flowers and ostrich plumes, completed t
he ensemble.

  “Okay, you can turn around,” I said. “They’re gone.”

  Almost as if in slow motion, he turned to face me. “I was trying to savor the element of surp—”

  The word died on his lips, his eyes growing wide.

  “Circa 1905,” I said quietly. “Or thereabouts. What do you think?”

  I was suddenly assaulted with images that weren’t from my own eyes. Instead, I saw myself standing there, rooted to the spot. Words were tumbling through my head at a dizzying rate, so jumbled I could barely make any sense of them.

  But a few … a few stood out. Stunning. Gorgeous. Beautiful beyond compare.

  I’d never felt such powerful emotions—they overwhelmed me, took my breath away. Blindly I reached for the couch. My knees buckled, and I would have fallen if not for Aidan’s arm, which had somehow found its way around me, steadying me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I swallowed hard. “I just … I need to catch my breath. What happened?”

  “You breached my mind again,” he whispered. “Just now.”

  I shook my head, hoping to clear it. “Not on purpose.”

  “Is everything all right, dear?”

  I looked up to find Mrs. Girard standing there, watching us with a puzzled expression.

  “I’m fine,” I managed to reply, unable to meet her pale, washed-out brown eyes. Vampire eyes. “I just got dizzy there for a second.”

  Mrs. Girard nodded. “Perhaps you should go see Nurse Campbell, then. I can call her now and arrange—”

  “No, I’m fine,” I interrupted. “Really.” The last thing I wanted was to get sent to the infirmary. After all, I’d missed most of the dance last year. This year, I planned to enjoy every second of it.

  “You’ll keep an eye on her, Mr. Gray?” she said to Aidan.

  “Of course,” he answered with a curt nod.

  “Very well, then. You two make quite the elegant pair, don’t you?” With a wave, she hurried on her way.

  Only then did I get a good look at Aidan’s costume. A black tuxedo with tails, a white vest and bow tie, finished with a top hat. Likely vintage, I realized. Probably from his own closet.

  “Trevors got it ready for me,” he explained. “Cleaned up nicely, considering its age. Circa 1905. Or thereabouts.”

  All the breath left my lungs in a rush. “How did you know?”

  A smile danced on his lips. “I asked Cece, but she wasn’t very forthcoming. However, your friend Whitney was far more accommodating.”

  “She didn’t,” I breathed.

  “She did.”

  I had to laugh. It sounded exactly like something Whitney would do.

  “I had to promise to send her a picture, however. Tonight. She was very specific.”

  “Then let’s go find a photographer,” I said.

  “Indeed.” He offered his arm. “I suppose I don’t need to tell you how beautiful you look,” he said, smiling down at me as we went out into the crisp, cool night and set off across the quadrangle toward the gym. “You must have heard—”

  “Every word,” I interrupted, my skin flushing hotly at the memory. “Every thought.”

  Beneath the light of a nearby lamppost, I could see the color rise in his cheeks. A vampire who blushes. His adorable factor ratcheted up a few notches.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” He paused and produced a small plastic container. “Here,” he said, opening it and reaching inside. “These are for you. I thought they might look nice pinned to your dress.”

  In his hand lay a small circlet of perfect white blossoms. I breathed in their fragrance, sweet and citrusy. “They’re beautiful,” I said.

  His face lit with a smile. “Back before I was turned, you had to be careful with flowers. Flowers had meaning; you risked giving a girl the wrong idea if you didn’t choose with care.” He cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed all of a sudden. “Anyway, the orange blossom means ‘eternal love.’ I’ve never given them to anyone before now.”

  “Thank you,” I said, reaching out to run one trembling finger over the velvety petals. It was more than a simple corsage—the blossoms were somehow attached to what looked like a delicate silver brooch with tiny faceted crystals glinting in the moonlight. This was a piece of jewelry disguised as a corsage, I realized. “Can you pin it on me?”

  He pinned the delicate blooms just above my heart. “There,” he said, taking a step back to examine it. “That’s perfect.” He held out a hand, and I took it. “Ready?”

  I nodded, my heart near to bursting. “Ready.”

  By the time we entered the gym, the dance was in full swing. The music was loud, the bass thumping. The decorating committee had gone with a headless horseman theme—fitting, considering Washington Irving was said to have founded the school—and the gym was completely transformed.

  The walls had been covered in black crepe paper with cutout silhouettes of the horseman with his jack-o’-lantern head, all lit from behind. Twinkle lights were strung across the rafters, giving the entire space an eerie, ghostly glow.

  It took us a full fifteen minutes to elbow our way through the crowd and find our friends—the ones who weren’t already out on the dance floor, that is. I’d managed to spot Cece and Tyler in the thick of it, looking like they were having fun. I thought I’d caught a glimpse of the top of Joshua’s head, too.

  Everyone else was in a clump beside the refreshment table—Sophie, Kate, and Marissa. Jack was nowhere to be found, of course. The traitor.

  “Hey, where’s Max?” I yelled into Marissa’s ear as Aidan and I joined them.

  “With the band, setting up,” she yelled back, gesturing toward the stage on the far side of the room. “They’re playing the next set.”

  “Cool.”

  Marissa nodded. “Wait till you hear them—they’re awesome.” Her dark eyes shone with obvious pride beneath the false eyelashes and dramatic makeup. Punk-rock chic, she’d called it, and it looked perfect on her. She really did look like a rock star’s girlfriend.

  “You want something?” Aidan called out, tipping his head toward the drinks.

  “Try the punch,” Kate suggested a little too enthusiastically. Which made me wonder if someone had somehow managed to spike it.

  I shook my head. “Just a Coke.”

  I took the icy can he handed me and went to stand beside Sophie. “Who’s Joshua dancing with?”

  “I think her name is Bronwyn. She’s a shifter. Seems nice.” Sophie leaned closer. “Be warned—Kate is in a mood tonight.”

  “Is Jack here?” I whispered, moving one of Sophie’s fairy wings out of my rib cage.

  “Yeah. Alone, thank God. You look great, by the way. So does His Lordship.” She glanced over at Aidan, who stood with his hands in his pockets, watching me. “I can’t even look at him without getting woozy. He is seriously rocking that tux.”

  “Tell me about it. Oh, wait—do you have your phone?” The cell phone restriction had been lifted for the dance, mostly because everyone’s doubled as a camera these days. “I need someone to snap a picture of us so I can send it to Whitney.”

  “She spilled the beans about your costume, huh? He tried to work over Cece, but she wasn’t going for it.” Sophie reached into the little drawstring bag she wore on her wrist and pulled out her phone. “But yeah, of course I brought it. Wait, is he going to show up? In the picture, I mean?”

  “Why wouldn’t he? Oh, you mean because …” I trailed off, realization dawning on me. Only one way to find out. “Hey, Aidan,” I called out, miming taking a picture. “Myth or fact?”

  “Myth,” he yelled back with a lopsided grin.

  Of course. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have promised Whitney a picture. I hurried over to his side, allowing him to wrap one arm around my waist.

  “Say cheese,” Sophie commanded.

  We ignored her, waiting for the flash.

  “What do you think?” She held up the phone, screen out, so we could see.
“Good?”

  It was the first picture we’d ever had taken together, I realized, my eyes scanning it hungrily. If only I weren’t wearing the hat.

  Still, it was good. Aidan looked beautiful—young and perfect and handsome. The dark smudges that usually marred the skin beneath his eyes were gone. I’d never seen him look so healthy, so vibrant.

  So alive.

  Whatever was in that serum was obviously doing something right.

  “Perfect,” I said, reaching for the phone. “Just let me text it to Whitney.”

  “You want to dance?” Aidan asked as soon as I handed the phone back to Sophie.

  I nodded, reaching up to steady the flying disc on my head. “Let’s lose the hats first, okay?”

  “I’ll hold them,” Kate offered sourly. “It’s not like I’m doing anything else.”

  “Thanks.” I carefully dislodged my hat and handed it to Kate, smoothing down my hair as best I could without a mirror.

  As if on cue, the music switched to a slow song. “Hey, perfect timing,” Aidan said, tipping off his top hat with practiced ease.

  “Go on.” Kate snatched it from him with a scowl. “I swear, watching the two of you together is making me want to puke.”

  “Ugh, I can’t take it anymore,” Marissa said, shaking her head. “She’s killing me. I’m going to go watch Max set up.” She flounced off, tossing her hair over one shoulder.

  Sophie turned toward me with a sigh. “It’s okay. Go on, have fun.”

  I allowed Aidan to lead me away, toward the dance floor. I glanced back apologetically at Sophie, alone now with a surly Kate. Silently I promised to return and drag them both out to dance with us as soon as the slow song ended.

  We’d find Cece and Tyler, maybe even Joshua and his date too. This was our senior year, our last Halloween Fair. We were supposed to be having fun—all of us, together.

  Of course, the moment Aidan took me into his arms, gazing down at me with those gray-blue eyes of his, every coherent thought flew right out of my head. I’d accidentally breached his mind again, but there was only a single word there in his thoughts, a word echoed in my own thoughts: love.