by Kristi Cook
“Okay,” I agreed. I didn’t want to tell Aidan anyway. Not yet. He would freak out for sure.
“Call me when you’re ready to talk,” he said, his voice gentle. “I swear it’s not nearly as bad as you think it is.”
I nodded, but I didn’t believe him—not one bit.
25 ~ Dude …
You’re really not going to tell me what’s wrong?” Aidan asked as we slipped into our seats fifth period. “You’ve been acting strange all day.”
“I told you, it was just that stupid vision with the bee again. It’s got me on edge. Patsy’s leaving on her trip soon, and I’m just worried, that’s all.”
“Where’s your friend?” He leaned forward, peering across at Tyler’s empty seat beside me. “He’s usually so punctual.”
“I don’t know,” I snapped. “I’m not his keeper.” I let out my breath in a rush. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m just on edge.”
“It’s okay. Just make sure you call Patsy each morning and remind her about the EpiPens. That’s pretty much all you can do, right?”
At the front of the room, Dr. Andrulis stood and cleared his throat. “Okay, folks, enough chitchat. Who’s ready for a slide show? Jared, kill the lights.” With one gloved hand, he gestured toward the switch by the door.
The tall, stocky guy in glasses whose desk was nearest the door stood and flicked the switch, and the room went dark except for the glowing light behind Dr. Andrulis’s desk.
“Okay,” he said as the first colorful slide flashed onto the screen behind him. “Let’s start with some impressionists.”
I settled back into my seat, glad for the distraction. We had a final coming up, so I couldn’t allow my mind to wander into dangerous territory. I had to focus, no matter how exhausted I was.
And I was exhausted. I’d lain awake most of the night, staring at the ceiling as it had shifted from deep black to violet to the hazy lavender of dawn. I think I finally dozed off just before the sun came up.
When my alarm had gone off, I’d forced myself out of bed, as tempted as I was to tell Cece I was sick and lie there all day instead. But if I’d done that, I would have spent the entire day thinking about Matthew and the whole Megvéd thing. I didn’t want to think about it, not now.
I’d worry about it later.
Right now, I just wanted to get through finals and the fencing tournament. I’d have the entire Christmas break to deal with Matthew and his revelations.
Forty-five minutes later the bells began to peal, signaling the end of class. Jared hopped up and flipped the lights back on.
I blinked hard, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the room’s sudden brightness.
“Okay, class,” Dr. Andrulis called out. “The second half of the final is going to involve identifying twenty of the paintings we just saw. Study, why don’t you?”
“I was planning to,” I muttered under my breath as I reached for my bag.
“You sure you’re okay?” Aidan asked, standing beside my desk now.
I glared up at him. “Ask me that one more time, and see what happens.”
He held up two hands in surrender. “Got it. I think I’ll just head over to the lab now.”
“You do that.” I stood, hiking my bag up on my shoulder. Despite my crankiness, I couldn’t help but smile. “See you at dinner?”
“Do you want to see me at dinner?” he asked with a wince. “Because I have grown rather fond of my limbs.”
“Hey, I’m allowed to be in a bad mood every once in a while.”
He grinned down at me. “Agreed. C’mon, we better get going or you’re going to be late to fencing.”
I followed him out, and my mood lightened a measure. I needed to just tell him, I realized. Get it over with fast—like pulling off a Band-Aid. Still, I was hesitant. Maybe over the weekend?
We parted ways by the fountain. I took the shortcut toward the gym, up the steep staircase. At the top, I paused to catch my breath.
“There you are,” a voice called out, startling me.
It was Tyler. He reached for my arm. “I’ve got to talk to you, Violet. Now.”
“Can you talk while we walk? We’re going to be late,” I said, shrugging off his grasp as I hurried my step.
“Forget fencing—this is important. Is there somewhere we can go, somewhere private?”
What the heck was going on? “You want to skip fencing? Are you crazy? The tournament’s next Friday.”
He ran a hand through his hair. It was shaking, I realized. “This is more important than a tournament. Can we at least go over to the chapel or something?”
I sighed, shaking my head. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. It better be important, Tyler. Seriously. If we get busted for skipping—”
“Trust me, once you hear what I have to say, getting busted will be the least of your worries. Hurry, we can cut across here.”
We veered off the path and headed through a field that sloped down toward the edge of the woods separating the campus’s neatly manicured grounds from the river. It was cold; my breath made white puffs in the air as I tried to match pace with his longer stride. “Hey, could you slow down a bit?” I called out testily, my mood going downhill fast. “And where were you during art history today? We went over the slides for the final.”
He paused, waiting for me to catch up. “Whatever. C’mon, let’s get inside before anyone sees us.”
The chapel loomed before us, its stone mass blocking out the sun. We hurried down the shadowed path and slipped inside. My breath was coming fast, a combination of exertion and nerves, as I followed him through the vestibule and down the aisle.
Tyler stopped about halfway down, leaning against a pew. “This is good,” he said with a nod.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Okay, are you going to tell me what this is all about? ’Cause this secret-agent stuff is starting to freak me out.”
“You might want to sit down for this,” he said, gesturing toward the pew.
“I’m fine standing. Go on.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. So, you know I’ve been working in the lab with Aidan this week, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, he told me you’ve been really helpful. Thanks for that, by the way.”
He began to pace. “All this talk about a blood-borne disease seemed strange because he doesn’t look all that sick to me. Just pale. Anyway, I guess I’m a bit slow, but I finally figured it out.” He stopped directly in front of me, his gaze meeting mine. “You’ve got to get away from him, Violet. He’s dangerous.”
I shook my head in confusion, unable to follow the train of his ramblings. “What are you talking about, Tyler?”
He glanced back toward the vestibule, then back at me, his eyes suddenly looking a bit wild. “Dude, your boyfriend? He’s a fucking vampire.”
“That’s it?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what you dragged me in here to tell me?”
His eyes widened a fraction. “Did you hear what I just said? He’s a vampire, Violet. A vampire. They’re, like, dead creatures that go around sucking people’s blood, in case you didn’t know.”
“Yeah, I know what a vampire is.” I was hedging, trying to figure out what I was supposed to say. Obviously Aidan and Dr. Byrne were being pretty open about it, even if they didn’t come right out and say the word. They must have known he’d eventually figure it out.
“So that’s it?” Tyler prodded. “He’s a vampire, and that’s all you’ve got to say?”
Oh my God, how many times was he going to say the word “vampire”? “I know what he is, Ty. You don’t have to keep repeating it.”
“You know?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. “What do you mean, you know?”
“I mean I’ve known for a long time, since last fall. Everyone knows—Cece and Sophie, Kate and Marissa, Jack and Joshua. Even Dr. Byrne,” I added, hoping I hadn’t forgotten anyone. “But listen to me, you can’t tell anyone else, okay?”
“Are you kidding me? The hell I can’t. In case you’ve forgotten, a dead body turned up on campus last week. Killed by the Vampire Stalker. You think that’s just a coincidence?”
I sighed. Of course—I could see why someone might make that leap of logic, if they’d just learned the truth. “Aidan had nothing to do with it. And Jenna … Jenna wasn’t even sure it was a real vampire. She didn’t scent anything out of the ordinary in the woods.”
“Jenna? Jenna Holley? What does she have to do with this?”
Uh-oh. “Just … you know, that’s her gift. Heightened sensory something or other. Oh, and she knows, too.”
“What the hell, Violet?”
I grabbed him by one arm, annoyed now. “Listen, everyone who knows the truth—who knows Aidan—realizes that they’re perfectly safe with him. He’s not a threat to anyone here at Winterhaven.”
“Do you want to know where I was during fifth period, Violet? I was in the lab, snooping for clues.”
I rolled my eyes. “Clues to what?”
“To prove that your boyfriend’s the Stalker, that’s what. To prove that he’s a murderer.”
“You’re wrong,” I said, forcefully now. This was getting ridiculous. Tyler could say whatever he wanted to say, but I knew Aidan. He was not a murderer. “For all I know, you’re the Stalker. The attacks started happening right after you showed up, didn’t they?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, that’s bullshit and you know it.”
I shrugged. “Not any more so than you accusing Aidan. He doesn’t attack innocent people, Tyler. He only feeds from criminals—dangerous criminals. And even then, he doesn’t kill them, not unless they’re … they’re … child molesters or serial killers,” I sputtered. “He just, you know, takes them temporarily out of action. Thwarts crime. Besides, he would never leave visible bite marks the way the Stalker does. That’s against their code, their rules.”
“Oh, they’ve got rules, do they? The vampires?”
“Yeah, they do,” I said with a nod. “Pretty strict ones, with some scary punishments to go along with them.”
He didn’t look convinced. “You actually want me to believe that he’s like some sort of superhero, keeping Gotham safe from dangerous criminals? Seriously?”
“Pretty much,” I agreed, realizing how dumb it sounded. Still, it was the truth. “It’s not Aidan, Tyler. I know that you don’t like him, that you somehow feel threatened by him or something—your stupid little macho ‘I always win’ thing and all. But you can’t pin this on him, and you’ve got to keep your mouth shut about him being a vampire. If you’re really my friend, if you care about me, you’ve got to trust me on this. Please?”
“Oh, so now you’re going to play the ‘if you care about me’ card? You can’t have it both ways, Violet.”
I shook my head, confused. “Just drop it, okay? If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll talk to him. I’ll … I don’t know … find proof that he wasn’t anywhere near Manhattan when the Stalker attacked.” Was he in Manhattan?
Crap. Now he’d planted a seed of doubt in my mind. It was going to stay there, gnawing at my brain, until I looked into it.
“Please, Tyler? Just … give me till after the break, and I’ll show you proof. Until then, don’t say anything to anyone, okay?”
“What if someone else turns up dead? How am I supposed to live with myself, wondering if I could have stopped it? How can you?”
“Because I’m that sure Aidan doesn’t have anything to do with it, that’s how. And you should be too.”
“Just because you believe that?”
I clenched my hands into fists in frustration. “Look, I’ve got a better idea of where he’s been—and when—than anyone else does. I was probably with him when most of the attacks happened.”
“Okay, fine,” he said at last. “If you say so.”
I let my breath out in a rush. “Thank you, Tyler.”
Now I just had to prove to him how crazy his theory was, and fast.
Easy, right?
26 ~ Angels and Demons
I shoved aside the piece of paper I’d scribbled on—a list of the dates of the Stalker’s attacks—with a heavy heart. This did not look good. Crap, crap, and double crap. It had to be a coincidence.
“Hey, why so glum?” Cece asked. She was sitting on her bed, knitting, a hobby she’d picked up over Thanksgiving break.
Should I tell her? A battle waged inside my head. Ultimately, the desire for reassurance won out. “Okay,” I said, “I know this is going to sound really crazy.”
“Uh-oh.” She froze, her two knitting needles pointing toward the ceiling. “Last time you started off like that, you ended up telling me that Aidan was a vampire. What is it this time? Someone’s a demon? A fallen angel? Oh no, it’s Tyler, isn’t it? I knew there was something weird with that guy.”
“Are you done?” I asked, reaching down to pick up the ball of pink yarn that had rolled off the bed and was sitting by her feet.
Her mouth curved into a smile as I set the yarn back beside her. “A demon, right? ’Cause that boy sure ain’t no angel.”
I shot her a glare. “Seriously, Cee.”
“Sorry. Go on.” With a flourish, she waved one of her needles in the air. “This is going to sound really crazy, but …”
“But yesterday Tyler dragged me off to the chapel to talk when we were supposed to be in fencing class.”
“Wait, you skipped a class? That is crazy. You never skip.”
“He’s been working in the lab with Aidan and finally managed to put two and two together,” I continued, ignoring her jests. “Anyway, now he’s convinced that Aidan is the Stalker.”
“He’s what?” she shrieked. Dropping the needles to the bed, she unfolded her legs and scooted to the edge of the mattress. “He actually thinks Aidan’s the one who attacked all those people in Manhattan? Who killed that lady?” She shook her head. “No way. Tyler must be smoking something, ’cause that’s totally whacked.”
“Tell me about it,” I said. Relief washed over me, her vehement denial bolstering my confidence. Tyler didn’t know what he was talking about; he didn’t know Aidan like we did.
“The thing is”—I glanced down at the list of dates and my courage plummeted—“I checked online to see when the attacks happened.” I paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “And one of them was the night before Aidan turned up down by the river. You know, when he got sick. And didn’t remember what happened the night before.”
“Coincidence,” Cece said with a shrug. “Has to be, right?”
“Right. Only …” I trailed off, shaking my head.
Cece’s brow furrowed. “Only what? You don’t really think he had anything to do with it? I mean, c’mon, this is Aidan we’re talking about. He’s one of the good guys. Even if he is … you know, a blood-sucking vampire. Wait, he really does suck blood, right?”
“Yeah, but he isn’t a murderer. Besides, he would never flout the rules the way the Stalker does, leaving visible bite marks and all that.”
“Well, there you have it,” she said with a shrug. “Told you.”
Oh, man … I was going to kill Tyler for putting this stupid idea into my head. “But on some of these dates—well, all of them, really—I’m not sure where Aidan was at the time. He wasn’t with me. And the last one, when the woman was killed? That happened over Thanksgiving break. He’d injected himself with the serum then.”
“Okay, so? I’m not following your logic here. What does the serum have to do with it?”
“It’s just that he’s had these really bad reactions to the serum, that’s all,” I said. “I wish I had a list of dates of when he injected it. I could compare that list to this one, and see if there’s any overlap.”
Cece shook her head. “Seriously, I’m still not following you.”
“I don’t know, Cee.” I threw my hands up in frustration. “I guess I was just hoping that I’d look at these dates and be able to say,
‘Nope, he was with me then. Couldn’t have been him.’ But I can’t.”
And then I saw it—the flicker of doubt that crossed her features. “Okay,” she conceded with a sigh. “I guess I can see how Tyler could leap to his crazy-ass conclusion. But you know what? I don’t believe it. These dates or whatever, it’s just a circumstantial evidence kind of thing, you know?”
I nodded.
“And even this whole serum thing—I mean, he’s injected it a lot this semester, hasn’t he?”
Again, I nodded.
“So statistically there’s a good chance that some of the dates are going to overlap anyway, right?”
“Right. God, I love you, Cee.” I hurried over to her and gave her a hug. “I knew you’d talk me down. So, what do we do now?”
She shook her head. “I dunno. Can you talk him out of injecting it for a little while? You know, like a control period?”
“That’s a great idea! Only”—I shook my head—“he’s not likely to agree to it. He thinks he’s so close to perfecting it. I swear, he’s in the lab working every spare minute these days. Matthew has really helped him with a breakthrough.”
Matthew. My Megvéd.
“Okay, what’s going on in that head of yours, Violet? You just went ten shades of pale.”
“You want to hear more crazy?” I offered, deciding I might as well get it all out there.
So I told her about the whole Megvéd thing. Okay, technically, I read it to her, from the translated page.
She just sat there, blinking, absorbing it.
“And then a few days ago, when I had that vision that freaked me out? I had a vision where I saw myself kill Aidan.”
“Not again!” Cece shivered. “Please tell me there aren’t more Propagators on their way here.”
I shook my head. “No, it was nothing like last time. All I saw really was the two of us—just me and Aidan—and he was begging me to do something. The same old ‘you know how; it’s got to go through the heart’ crap. I was crying, telling him no, but eventually I felt myself raise my arm and bring it down, right on his chest.”
“Your stake?”
