by Kristi Cook
“He was a journalist?”
I blinked up at the night sky, watching as the last wisps of clouds drifted away from the moon, leaving it entirely exposed. “Yeah,” I answered at last. “A correspondent for a cable news network.”
“Where did it happen?”
“Afghanistan. We didn’t hear from him for nearly a month and the network had no idea where he was or who had him. And then the kidnappers . . . they released a . . . a videotape.”
“But you already knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I said, shuddering at the memory of the horrific vision.
“There are some things in this world that are worse than monsters, aren’t there?”
I nodded. It was a strange thing to say, but he was right. “He was so mad at me when he left; he thought I was being selfish. I had seen everything—his kidnapping, his murder. I tried to tell him, tried to convince Patsy to make him stay, but he was furious. Said I shouldn’t scare Patsy like that, that she had enough to worry about with him away.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Violet.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. “I should have done more to stop him.”
“What could you possibly have done to stop him? Some people don’t want to believe anything beyond the ordinary. They walk right into danger with their eyes wide open, refusing to see what’s right in front of them.”
I knew he was right, but that didn’t make it any easier. “I should have made him see.”
“He loved his job, didn’t he?” Aidan asked.
“He did. Maybe more than he loved me.” As I said it, I realized that that was what was really bothering me, what was eating away at my insides.
He shook his head. “C’mon, Vi, do you really believe that?”
A single tear slipped down my cheek, and I wiped it away with the back of one hand. “I guess not.”
“What about your stepmother?” he asked. “What did she say when she realized that you had been right?”
“Are you kidding? She never believed it. I tried to tell her, tried to explain about the visions, but all that got me was a visit to the shrink. I guess she convinced herself it was just a coincidence. It’s not like it’s unheard of, what happened. Something like that was always a possibility, whether I had foreseen it or not.”
“I suppose so. But I saw what happened to you when you had a vision your first day here. You stumbled, and sort of zoned out or something. How did you explain that all those years?”
“Trust me, they dragged me to a ton of doctors. Never could find a medical explanation, so they just called it a mild seizure disorder and left it at that.”
“And you were okay with them thinking that?”
“It was either that or a padded cell. The rest of the world isn’t like Winterhaven, you know,” I said sharply.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been here long enough that I sometimes forget.”
I took a deep breath.
“So, where do you live now?” I finally asked. “When you’re not here, I mean.”
“I have a place in Manhattan,” he answered.
“Alone?” He wasn’t an adult; he had to have some sort of legal guardian or something.
“I’ve got Trevors,” he clarified, and I could hear a trace of amusement in his voice.
He rolled onto his side, facing me. “Trevors is . . . like family.” Next thing I knew, his cool fingers were on my face, tracing a line from my temple down to my chin. I just held my breath, not moving a muscle, waiting for him to say something. I could feel my own heart beating fast and furious, and I wondered if his was doing the same.
Finally he spoke. “I don’t understand it, Violet. You’re both a part of my past and a part of my future. You feel it too, don’t you?”
“I think so,” I murmured. I was definitely feeling . . . something. I reached out and touched the cut on his forehead, my fingertip barely brushing the wound. “How’d you get this?” I asked, sensing his body tense beneath my touch.
There was a trace of amusement in his voice when he answered. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Well, I hope the other guy looks worse,” I teased.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“You’re really good at avoiding questions, aren’t you?” I said with a laugh.
“Hey, I’m not the only one who dodges questions. You never really told me what you saw in your vision today.”
“Do I have to?” I didn’t really want to think about it, much less discuss it.
He nodded. “It’s kind of . . . important.”
With a sigh, I relented. “Okay, fine. You were walking down a foggy street in Manhattan. A dark, seedy street, and I was following you. That’s about it,” I said, hedging.
“No, there’s more. You have to tell me exactly what you saw that frightened you so badly.”
I shook my head, trying to tamp down my rising panic. “No, I can’t. Besides, you can read my mind. You tell me what I saw.”
“I can’t see your visions,” he snapped, sounding frustrated.
My breath hitched in my chest. “Is that the real reason you brought me here tonight? To hear about my visions?”
His hand found mine. “No. I brought you here because I knew you would appreciate this place as much as I do, and because I wanted to spend some time with you. Still, I wish you would tell me exactly what you saw.” His fingers were on my face again, and I felt myself relenting. I knew he was somehow manipulating me, and yet I was powerless to stop it.
I sighed in defeat. “Like I said, I was following you down some seedy street. And then, I don’t know, there was a flash of movement, or something. I called out your name and you turned around. There was . . . blood.” I swallowed hard, unable to go on.
“Blood where?”
I shrugged, not really wanting to remember. “I don’t know, your face, I think. That’s it, that’s all I saw.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice firm.
And just like that, my fear evaporated. Disappeared. I sat up, shaking my head in frustration. “Stop it, Aidan. Stop manipulating me like that.”
He sat up too. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. I don’t know exactly what it is you do, what powers you have, but—”
“We don’t like to call them that here at Winterhaven,” he said, doing a perfect impression of Mrs. Girard.
“I’m serious,” I said, and I meant it.
“I know you are.” He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away, refusing to be placated.
“Well, then, whatever it is you’re doing, stop it. I mean it, Aidan. I can’t . . . I won’t hang out with you if you’re going to do that.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s just a . . . an old habit. I won’t do it again.”
“You promise?” I asked.
“I give you my word,” he said, and I believed him. I wanted to believe him. “Let’s just forget about it for now and enjoy what time we have left till curfew, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed. Relieved, I reclined back against the blankets.
After a second or two, he lay back down beside me. “It’s really beautiful tonight,” he said. “I’m glad you came.”
And just like that, everything was back to normal between us. Not because he was manipulating me, but because it was. I turned my head toward him; his profile was illuminated by the light of the moon. Just one glance, and my heart started to race. I was crushing on him big-time, I realized. Recognizing the train of my thoughts, I struggled to erect the wall protecting them, concentrating hard as I tried to remember everything Sandra had taught me.
“Hey,” came Aidan’s voice beside me, sounding surprised. “That’s much better. I think you’re starting to get the hang of it.”
If not for his quiet chuckle, I might have believed him.
9 ~ The Day After
I slept righ
t through breakfast the next morning and was forced to make do with a stale Danish and coffee from the vending machine in the dorm lounge. I ate quickly, figuring I didn’t have much time till Cece and her posse showed up, ready to prod me for details about the night before.
When I got up to leave, my gaze drifted over to the mail cubbies beside the bookshelves. I hadn’t checked my mail in days, I realized—not that I was expecting anything. Still, I brushed the pastry crumbs from my jeans and hurried over, surprised to see a small, square package there in my box. I smiled, recognizing Lupe’s handwriting.
Lupe was more of a companion to Gran than a housekeeper these days, but try telling Lupe that. She took pride in doing whatever she could manage with her arthritic hands— drying dishes, ironing. It was impossible to think of Gran without picturing Lupe right there beside her. I tore off the paper, suddenly overwhelmed with homesickness.
Inside I found a lavender silk drawstring bag. Puzzled, I pulled it open and shook the contents out into my hand. I stared down in surprise at a delicate silver crucifix, hanging on a long silver chain. Clearly, the necklace was new. It still had the Neiman Marcus tag attached, which meant it wasn’t cheap, either.
Why would Lupe send me this? She was Catholic, but I wasn’t. Our family was Episcopalian, and not particularly religious.
Stranger still was the note she’d enclosed. All it said, in wobbly script, was, Please indulge a silly old woman and promise me that you will wear this at all times. May the good Lord protect you. And then she’d signed her name. Very, very odd.
I pulled off the tag with shaking fingers and clasped the chain around my neck, tucking the cross under my shirt. It wasn’t exactly my style, but it made me feel closer to Gran and Lupe.
Suddenly there was a steady stream of kids coming through the door, laughing and shouting as they headed for the couches by the TV or down the hall toward the rooms. Breakfast must be over, I realized. Time for me to go.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough.
“Hey, Violet!” Cece called out. “There she is, the sleepyhead.”
I looked up and saw her there by the door, Sophie, Kate, and Marissa trailing behind, looking almost predatory. Like lionesses on the scent of blood. In seconds they had me surrounded.
“Too bad you slept in,” Marissa said with a sly smile. “Guess who we saw in the dining hall?”
“Really?” I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. Somehow I wanted to imagine him lounging lazily in bed, relishing the memories like I had.
“No,” Kate answered. “She’s just kidding. But the look on your face was priceless. I take it someone had a good time last night.”
“Hopefully not as good a time as you and Jack had,” Marissa muttered half under her breath, and I saw Kate shoot her a deadly glare.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Cece said, tipping her head toward the door. “Give the girl some privacy, will you.”
Everyone nodded, and soon I was following them back down the hall toward our room. The door closed behind us, and they all turned toward me expectantly.
Kate was the first to speak. “Okay, spill it.”
Marissa plopped down on Cece’s bed. “We can’t stand the suspense any longer.”
But what to tell them? I took a deep breath, considering all my options. I finally decided to play it safe. Keep it simple. “Well, we mostly just sat and talked, but it . . . it was nice.”
“Go on,” Sophie prodded.
“Yeah, what did he want to show you?” Marissa asked.
“Just someplace on campus. A place he likes to hang out. It was quiet and private, and . . . well, we went there and talked.”
Cece was nearly bouncing on the bed beside me. “And? Come on, dish.”
“And he asked me to meet him tonight after dinner,” I added, hoping that would be enough. What else could I say, really? That it had been the best date I’d ever had? That I was completely and utterly smitten? No, that was way too embarrassing to admit.
“Wow.” Marissa looked impressed. “I still can’t believe it— Aidan Gray, out on a date. With a girl,” she added.
“Oh, give it a rest, Marissa,” Kate said. “Just because he never asked you out doesn’t mean he bats for the other team. Jack says he’s incredibly smart, really intense. He spends way too much time in the lab, though. Pretty much all this free time, from what Jack says.”
Just then my cell phone, still plugged into its charger on my desk, began to ring. I hadn’t given him my number, but I knew by now that that didn’t matter.
“Is that him?” Cece asked when I went over to the phone and looked at the caller ID screen. I didn’t recognize the number, and hope swelled in my chest as I hit the answer button.
“Hello?” I squeaked, hating that I had an audience.
“Hi. Sleep well?”
Just the sound of his voice made my knees weak. “Yep. Right through breakfast, actually.”
“Last night was great,” he said. “Thank you.”
“I had a great time too.” I was facing the wall, but I could feel everyone’s eyes on my back, watching me.
“About tonight, though . . .” He cleared his throat, and I could sense that he was uncomfortable. “I’m doing some work in the lab, and it’s gotten really complicated. It’s going to take me a lot longer than I thought, so I don’t think I can—”
“That’s okay,” I interrupted, trying to sound cheerful. “I really should be studying, anyway. I’ve still got so much to catch up on.” He was blowing me off, I realized. Already.
“Thanks for understanding, Violet. We’ll talk later, then, okay?”
“Sure. Okay. Bye.” I hit the end button and took a deep breath before I turned back to face my friends.
“Rat bastard,” Marissa said. “I knew it.”
“He says he’s got some work to do in the lab,” I offered lamely.
Sophie shook her head, her hazel eyes full of disbelief. “What kind of work? It’s Sunday.”
I just shrugged. I had no idea what kind of work he did in the lab. Kate had said it was some sort of medical research, but he’d never elaborated. Actually, now that I thought about it, there was an awful lot about Aidan that I still didn’t know.
The next week passed mostly in a blur. I hadn’t been lying when I’d said I had a lot of catching up to do. Winterhaven’s academic expectations were high, even by prep school standards. Which was good, I guess—after all, the school’s graduates had a ridiculously high rate of academic and professional success. PhDs, CEOs, industry leaders, and successful politicians . . . they all came from Winterhaven. The amount of notable grads listed in the admissions brochure was mind-bogglingly impressive.
Of course, now I realized why—because once students graduated and were free from the constraints of the COPA, they could use their gifts to their advantage. It was amazing, really, that no one had ever been exposed for what they were. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was some sort of safeguard in place for that, something I didn’t yet understand. Regardless, a Winterhaven education was definitely a plus, and I spent pretty much all my free time trying to catch up.
I didn’t hear from Aidan—no more tutoring sessions— although I did see him twice a day in the classes we shared. It was mostly awkward, me going out of my way to avoid him, and him studying me intently from across the room, then disappearing as soon as the bells rang. I didn’t know what to think. I mean, we’d only had one date, so it’s not like I had a claim on him. On the other hand, it had been a good date—or so I had thought. He’d said all that stuff about me being a part of his past and his future, and I had taken that as a pretty good sign. Like us coming together was fate or something.
What had changed? I had all kinds of theories, of course, most of them involving another girl. As I was pondering the possibilities for the millionth time that day, Cece popped her head into the room. “Hey, are you coming with us to the café?” she asked brightly.
“No, I thought I’d g
o to the gym. My shoulder’s been hurting, and stretching really seems to help.” Liar. I shut down my computer, my homework done.
“C’mon, Violet. All you’ve done is mope around all week. Is he really worth it?”
Yeah, he was. And that was the problem. That, and I was totally pathetic. But I couldn’t say that. Instead I said, “I really do need to stretch.”
“Okay, whatever.” Clearly, she wasn’t buying it. “You sure you won’t come with us?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I picked up my bag and hiked it up on my shoulder. “But I’ll walk with you, okay?”
We made our way through the lounge in silence. Finally I spoke. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a boarding school with a movie theater. Or a café. How come we can’t just go into the village to hang out, at least on weekends?”
“I think they decided it’s better if we don’t mix too much with the townies. They worry we’d get careless or something. So they made sure we have everything we need right here at Winterhaven. I like it this way—it’s more like a college campus or something.”
“I guess,” I said with a shrug. We passed the school store, which I now knew carried a wide assortment of clothes, shoes, and accessories in addition to school supplies and sweats with the school crest. There was a drugstore, too—rumor had it that they even carried condoms—but the bookstore was my favorite. It was as well-stocked as any major chain. Cece was right; there really wasn’t any need to leave campus.
We parted ways at the atrium’s exit, and I continued on toward the gym. The sun was just beginning to set, the sky a deep purple with wide orange swaths. It was so pretty that I considered sitting down on a nearby bench to watch the sun melt into the horizon. Why not? The gym could wait.
So I sat.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I whirled around to look over my right shoulder, and there was Aidan, leaning against a tree. I just swallowed, unable to speak. My heart was pounding, as it always did when he snuck up on me.
“This is my favorite time of day. The Scots call it ‘the gloaming.’ I like that.”
