by Kristi Cook
I breathed in his scent, unable to imagine what he meant by that.
“You didn’t answer me,” he prodded, his hand stroking my back, drawing gooseflesh on my skin. “Why? Why won’t you run from me?”
I didn’t know what to say; didn’t know what he wanted to hear. All I knew was that I cared about him, way more than I should care about someone I barely knew. But I wouldn’t say it—couldn’t say it.
Several seconds passed in silence, and then his lips brushed my ear. “Well, until you do run, I’ll just have to take what I can. Next weekend is the Halloween Fair. Will you go with me to the dance?”
My heart did a little flip-flop—he was asking me to a dance! An official school function, which meant going public.
“Do I have to wear a costume?” I asked, as if I would turn him down either way.
He released me then, taking a step back as his mouth curved into a smile. “Of course you have to wear a costume. That’s half the fun of it.”
“Well, then, how can I say no?” That meant I had to come up with a costume, and fast.
On most days I felt like the Violet I showed the world was a costume, a mask. No one knew the real me. But, as I looked up into Aidan’s eyes and watched him smile that slow smile of his, I realized with a start that he did. He knew the real Violet McKenna, the essence beneath the mask.
And somehow that excited me and terrified me, all at once.
12 ~ The Night of the Living Dead
A vampire, Aidan? That’s the best you could do?” I shook my head with a smile as he stepped into the East Hall lounge with a flourish of his cape. “Totally cliché, you know. Besides, vampires are supposed to have black hair.”
He looked more like an angel, my Aidan. Despite the black cape and plastic fangs.
I had managed something far more esoteric, if less easily identifiable—a fallen star. If nothing else, I figured it’d be a good conversation starter. Only problem was, I kept tripping on my dress—a long, crushed-velvet thing in silver with a big, sweeping train. I’d bought it online and paid a fortune to have it shipped overnight. Yellow glow-sticks around my ankles and wrists completed the look.
“C’mon, it’s time to twinkle, little star.” Aidan took my hand and led me out into the night, toward the gym. I could hear the music, feel the thump of the bass, from across the quad as I stumbled along next to him.
“Be honest,” I said, careful with the hem of my dress. “Would you know what I was supposed to be if I hadn’t told you?”
“Absolutely,” he said, but his smile made me wonder. “I read Gaiman.”
I reached down to adjust my shoes, a hot pair of strappy heels that I’d bought on a whim in Manhattan before I’d come to school. Patsy had insisted they were a ridiculous purchase, that they were way too much for boarding school. I was glad that I’d ignored her and listened to my instincts instead, because they looked perfect with the dress.
When I straightened, Aidan took a step back, his gaze traveling from the top of my head down to my toes, and back up again. I felt myself shiver in response; guys had never looked at me the way Aidan was looking at me now. It made my heart race, my knees wobble.
“You sure you can’t read my mind?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Nope. You’ve locked it good and tight.”
“Good,” I murmured, suddenly feeling naughty. “Because I’d hate for you to know what I’m thinking right now.”
In a flash, he’d pulled me up against his chest, his fake teeth ripped from his mouth, his lips on mine. He’d moved so fast that he’d taken me entirely by surprise. His lips were soft, his kiss gentle, but I could hear the low growl in the back of his throat.
Guess he didn’t need to read my mind after all.
It had been so long since he’d kissed me—really kissed me. Oh, he’d pressed his lips against my ear, against my hair, but nothing like this, like that first time, under the stars, his whole body pressed against mine. I’d been waiting, wanting . . .
“Hey, you two, get a room,” someone called out from behind us.
He released me, and I stepped away. Barely able to catch my breath, I turned and saw Jenna Holley there, decked out in what I guessed was supposed to be a poodle costume. Floppy ears, pom-pom tail, a crystal-studded collar around her throat.
Aidan laughed, then reached for my hand. “Nice touch, Jenna,” he called out.
“Yeah, I could say the same of you.” She smiled sweetly at him, but I also detected hostility, maybe, mixed with something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on. A wave of jealousy washed over me. There was something between Aidan and Jenna—something I didn’t know about. Neither did my friends, or they definitely would have mentioned it.
“Don’t you have somewhere to go?” Aidan asked her, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“Yeah, I better go find my pack,” she joked.
Speaking of packs, there came mine, and they were headed our way—Cece, Sophie, Kate, Jack, and Marissa.
For a second there I actually considered grabbing Aidan’s hand and running off toward the woods where we could pick up where we’d left off when Jenna had so rudely interrupted us. Instead I allowed common sense to reign, and I raised my hand and waved.
As they approached, I reached for Aidan’s hand and held it tightly in my own. This was our first public outing as a couple, and I really wanted it to go well.
“Hey, was that Jenna Holley?” Kate asked, once they’d caught up to us.
“Yeah,” I answered, watching the poodle disappear into the gym, her tail swinging behind her. “The one and only.”
Sophie readjusted her pointy hat. “Is she actually dressed up as a dog?”
“A female dog,” Cece put in with a giggle. “How appropriate.”
“Meow,” said Marissa.
“Hey, are we going in, or what?” Jack seemed impatient.
We weren’t inside for more than fifteen minutes, all of us clustered together around the refreshment table, when a man I’d never seen—obviously a teacher—made a beeline for us, his mouth drawn in a tight line.
“Mr. Gray,” he said. “A moment, please.”
“Wait for me,” Aidan whispered against my ear, and he followed the teacher to a corner of the gym. They stood there talking, the man gesturing wildly with his hands. Aidan was very still and stiff, and I could sense that something was wrong. Very wrong.
A minute later he was back at my side, his face a complete and total blank. “I’ve got to go,” he said, his voice tight. “I should be back soon. Stay with your friends; I’ll find you.” And then he was gone.
“Where’d Aidan go?” Cece yelled above the din of the music, reaching for a Diet Coke.
I watched as Jack led Kate out to the dance floor. “I don’t know. Who was that guy he was talking to? Do you know?”
“I think his name is Dr. Hughes. A chemistry teacher. What’d he want?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. Do you mind if I just hang with you till he gets back?”
“Course not.” She nudged me in the ribs. “Don’t look now, but there’s the shifters. Maybe one of them will ask you to dance.”
“Hey, that’s not funny.” I still felt bad for them. They couldn’t help what they were, any more than I could help having visions. It didn’t seem fair that they were outcasts in a school like this, a school where kids should be more sensitive to people’s differences—even if their “gift” was a little out there.
Kind of like carrying someone a quarter mile in the blink of an eye, I reminded myself, then shuddered.
Marissa and Sophie sidled up beside us, and I was glad for the interruption. “Hey, guys, I think Todd Moreland is checking out Cece,” Marissa said, her little cat nose twitching.
I glanced over at Todd, a dark-haired guy I knew from a couple of classes, and yeah, he was definitely staring. A few minutes later, he elbowed his way through the crowd and asked Cece to dance.
Next went Sophie, off with the
same guy she’d gone out with last weekend, Jack’s football friend. I couldn’t even remember his name, but he was pretty cute. That left Marissa and me. Of all my newfound friends, she was the one I felt the least comfortable with.
“I cannot freaking believe that Kate and Jack coordinated their costumes,” she said, tipping her head toward where the couple in question—pirate and wench—stood swaying, their bodies plastered together on the dance floor. “I mean, how lame is that?”
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug, wishing Aidan would hurry back. “I think it’s kind of cute.”
Marissa made a gagging sound.
“You don’t like Jack very much, do you?”
She was still watching them, staring intently. “Eh, he’s okay, I guess. Why?”
“I don’t know.” Did I really want to get into it with her? “It’s just that you’re always making these little digs about him and Kate.”
“Don’t tell anyone I said this, okay?” she demanded, and I nodded before she continued on. “But Kate’s mom was only eighteen when she had her, and her dad was already long gone by then. I just . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I worry that Kate’s headed down that same path, that’s all. She’s convinced that she and Jack are going to be together forever. I mean, what are the chances of that happening?”
That was not the answer I had expected, and I wasn’t even sure how to reply, so I just shrugged.
“Anyway, where’d Aidan go off to?” she asked, glancing around the crowded room.
“I don’t know. Somewhere with a chemistry teacher, I think. He said he’d be back,” I added lamely, taking a sip of the now tepid Coke I held in one hand.
“I guess you two are getting pretty serious?”
I shrugged, scanning the dance floor, looking for Cece and Todd. “Maybe. I don’t know, he’s kind of hot and cold. Here one minute, gone the next.” I have no idea what loosened my tongue like that, but it felt kind of good, saying it out loud.
“Yeah, well, he’s never even given anyone else the time of day, so you must be doing something right. I hope you two can work it out,” she said, and my gaze shot back to her. After what she’d just said about Jack and Kate, I really wasn’t expecting that.
Marissa was full of surprises today. Truth was, she had always intimidated me—even when she was being nice. But . . . I don’t know . . . I was starting to think that beneath her tough exterior, there was something soft, something vulnerable.
“You really like him, don’t you?” she continued, still watching me closely. “And no, I didn’t use any sixth sense to figure that one out. It’s written all over your face. You can’t take your eyes off the door.”
“I’m just worried. It’s been, what, almost a half hour now?” Maybe more. I wasn’t wearing a watch, but it felt like forever.
“You didn’t answer the question. Do you think you really like him, or is it just an extreme case of the Aidan effect?”
I had asked myself that same question more than once, and I always came up with the same answer. “Yeah, I do. Really like him, I mean.” Way too much. Which was more frightening, really, than some freakish hormonal reaction.
“Well, then, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you should go find him.” She wrapped her arms around herself, and I saw her shiver. “I think something’s wrong. He’s . . . angry or something. I don’t know exactly. But I think he needs you.”
“How can you . . .” I let it trail off. She could—that’s all that mattered. “Do you know where he is?”
She nodded. “The chemistry lab.”
“Thanks, Marissa.” I hugged her fiercely. “If he does show up, will you tell him I went looking for him?”
“Sure. Now go.” She stepped back, out of my grasp. “I think you should hurry. Corridor C. Third floor. Try room 329.”
Soon I was sprinting back across the quad, holding up my skirt as I ran. I’d only gone a couple of yards when I felt the strap on my right shoe snap, and I almost fell flat on my face.
Bending down, I slipped off my shoes, wincing as my bare feet made contact with the cold grass. I hurried to the courtyard with the fountain, the lights illuminating the spray of water. Corridor C, Marissa had said, which was directly opposite the door I took to math class. In seconds I was through the stone archway and sprinting barefoot up the stairs, taking two at a time, my dress hiked up to my knees. Third floor, room 329.
There it was, at the end of the hallway. The door was closed, the lights out. Maybe I’d missed him; maybe he was already headed back to the gym. Just to be sure, I pushed the door open, my heart thumping, and stepped inside. Nothing but the emergency light glowed, but it was enough. I clamped my hand over my mouth.
Tables were overturned, chairs broken to bits. Glass was everywhere, and a weird, sulfurous smell made me gag. In the middle of the chaos stood Aidan, still wearing the silly vampire costume. As I watched, he picked up the one remaining table as if it weighed nothing and flung it against the wall, shattering glass, splintering wood. I must have screamed, because Aidan spun around, the cape billowing out behind him.
“Violet?” His eyes met mine, and I could have sworn they were glowing red. I took a step backward, reaching blindly for the door, and felt a piece of glass slice through the sole of my foot.
The lights flickered on at once. And then, impossibly, he was against the far wall, though I hadn’t seen him move.
With a whimper, I dropped my shoes and reached down to pluck the glass from my foot, then tried to stanch the warm, sticky blood with my skirt.
“You have to leave, Violet. Now. Now,” he repeated, his voice so tight, so controlled, that it sent a shiver racing down my spine.
“What . . . what’s wrong with you?” I stammered. He’d moved from the wall, but then stumbled back against it. He must be hurt, I realized. Terribly hurt. His face was pale, his eyes rimmed in red.
There was a path to my right, mostly clear of glass and debris. If I could just get to him—
“You’ve got to leave now. I mean it, so help me God.” His hands were clenched into fists by his sides, and he looked like he was in physical pain. “I can’t . . . I’m not this strong. Get out of here—now.”
I staggered back toward the door, careful to avoid the glass. I couldn’t quite process what I was seeing—the destruction, his reaction; none of it made any sense. “What . . . what happened?”
The muscles in his jaw tensed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before speaking. “Don’t you see? This was two years’ worth of work, destroyed. Damn it. You’ve got to do something about the blood.”
“The blood?” I looked down at the floor, to the trail of bright red footprints I’d left on the linoleum, and shuddered.
“Listen to me, and listen closely,” he said, leaning back against the wall, his body tense and taut. “You wanted to know my secrets? Well, here they are, Violet McKenna. Right in front of you; just open your eyes.”
“What are you saying?” I choked out, terror clutching at my heart.
He took a deep, rattling breath. “I’m trying to tell you that, in about thirty seconds, I’m going to be tempted beyond reason to sink these”—he grimaced, showing what looked like his fake fangs—“into your neck. Do you understand?”
Aidan was a . . . a . . . I could barely force myself to think the word, it was so crazy. A vampire? Or at least he thought he was. I shook my head wildly, my heart beating so fast that I thought I might faint, right then and there.
One of us was crazy, that was for sure, and I had no idea if it was him or me. I clamped my hand over my mouth, forcing myself to breathe—in and out, through my nose.
“Now turn around and leave, Violet. Run. And no matter what happens, promise me you won’t come back here tonight.”
I nodded mutely, unable to speak a single syllable. And then I turned and fled.
13 ~ Cue the Creepy Music . . .
I fidgeted in my seat as Dr. Blackwell sat down oppos
ite me, steepling his hands beneath his chin as he watched me from across his desk.
I’d been summoned to the headmaster’s office, probably for skipping my history and anthropology classes—the classes I shared with Aidan. Whatever punishment Dr. Blackwell handed down, it was worth it. I couldn’t face Aidan, not yet. He was . . . crazy. Dangerous, maybe. But a . . . a vampire? I mean, c’mon. There’s no such thing; it’s all myth, legend—
Talk to me, Violet. Please? Aidan’s voice in my head. He was somewhere, reaching out to me telepathically. Damn it.
Go away! I silently yelled. Leave me alone.
He’d been trying since Sunday morning—and I’d been ignoring him, over and over again, trying to shut out the weird electrical buzz in my head that accompanied the telepathy.
“Miss McKenna?” Dr. Blackwell asked, leaning forward in his chair. I’d almost forgotten he was there. “Are you unwell?”
“No, I’m . . . it’s just a headache,” I murmured, feeling like an idiot. “A migraine. Off and on, all day. I had to miss a couple of classes.”
He nodded, mercifully accepting my explanation—just like that. “You’ve settled in well here at Winterhaven, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, my voice sounding strangely wobbly.
“Good, good. I’m always pleased to see a new student flourish in this nurturing environment. All your teachers are reporting that you are not only fully caught up but excelling at your studies.” He smiled at me then, his silvery eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “Have you considered what subject you might study in college?”
I shook my head, glad for the change of subject. “Not really. I’m only a junior.”
“It’s never too early to plan for your future. Have you considered any careers that might be aided by your special talents?”
“I can’t really think of anything.” I shook my head. “I mean, my visions are always about people that I know, that I”— I swallowed hard—“care about.”
“Perhaps your visions could be better trained,” Blackwell suggested. “You know, broadened to include larger segments of the population. Are you working with a trainer?”
