“Oh, come on! I’d expect that from Adrian but not you guys. It’s not that weird of a name.”
“No,” admitted Eddie. “But there’s just something so… I don’t know. Unmemorable about him. I’m glad he makes you happy, but I just start to tune out whenever he talks.”
“I can’t believe this,” I said.
Brayden was waiting out front for us, no doubt having been there for at least ten minutes. My stomach fluttered as he looked me over from head to toe. He didn’t comment, though his eyes widened a bit. Was that good or bad? I flashed my student ID to get him in the door, and Jill almost immediately joined Micah. Eddie’s brief romantic flare was gone as he shifted into business mode. A brief look of pain crossed his face, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. I touched his arm.
“You going to be okay?” I asked softly.
He smiled back. “I’ll be fine. Just have fun.” He walked away, soon melting into the crowd of students. That left me alone with Brayden. Silence fell between us, which wasn’t uncommon. It sometimes took us a few minutes to warm up and get the conversation going.
“So,” he said, as we walked further inside. “You have a DJ. I wondered if it’d be that or a live band.”
“Our school just had a bad experience with a live band,” I said, thinking of Angeline.
Brayden didn’t press for details and instead gazed around at the decor. Fake cobwebs and twinkling lights were strewn near the ceiling. Paper skeletons and witches hung on the walls. Over on a far table, students were scooping punch out of a giant plastic cauldron.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” said Brayden. “How a pagan Celtic holiday has become such a commercial event.”
I nodded. “And a very secular one. Well, aside from attempts to merge it into All Saints Day.”
He smiled at me. I smiled back. We were safely in familiar academic territory.
“You want to check out the punch?” I asked. Some fast, bass-heavy song was on, drawing lots of people to the dance floor. Fast dancing wasn’t really my style. I didn’t know Brayden’s take and was afraid he might want to join in.
“Sure,” he said, looking relieved to have a purpose. Something told me he’d been to as many dances as I had: none.
The punch provided us with a reason to discuss sugar vs. artificial sweeteners, but my heart wasn’t into it. I was too concerned about something else. Brayden hadn’t said one word about my dress, and it was filling me with anxiety. Was he as shocked by it as I had been? Was he politely holding back his true thoughts? I could hardly expect compliments if I wasn’t giving them, so I decided to take the plunge.
“Your costume’s great,” I said. “That’s from the theatrical company, right?”
“Yes.” He glanced down and smoothed out the folds of his tunic. “Not entirely accurate, of course, but it’ll do.” The tunic was knee-length, pinned on one shoulder, and made of very light, off-white wool. He had a woolen cape over it dyed in a dark brown that was accurate to the time period. Even with the cape, a fair amount of his arms and chest were exposed, showing a runner’s body with a lightly muscled build. I’d always thought he was cute, but it wasn’t until this moment I realized he might actually be hot. I expected that to trigger a stronger feeling in me, but it didn’t.
He was waiting for me to say something. “Mine’s not entirely, um, accurate either.”
Brayden studied the red dress in a very clinical way. “No,” he agreed. “Not at all. Well, the cut’s not that far off, I suppose.” He thought for several moments more. “But I still think it’s very pretty on you.”
I relaxed a little. Coming from him, “very pretty” was high praise. While he often had a lot to say about every other topic, he was thrifty with words when it came to emotions. I shouldn’t have expected anything more than a simple statement of facts, so this was a big deal.
“Whoa, Melbourne. Where have you been hiding?” Trey strolled over to us and began liberally filling a cup with the fluorescent green punch. “You look badass. And hot.” He shot Brayden an apologetic look. “Don’t take that the wrong way. Just telling it like it is.”
“Understood,” said Brayden. I couldn’t help a smile. Trey had been behaving weirdly around me for the last day or so, and it was nice to see him back to usual form.
Trey gave me another admiring look and then turned back to Brayden. “Hey, check it out. We both went for togas. Romans rule!” He held up a hand to high-five Brayden but didn’t receive it.
“This is a Greek chiton,” Brayden explained patiently. He studied Trey’s homemade toga, which looked suspiciously like it had been made from a bed sheet. “That’s, um, not.”
“Greek, Roman.” Trey shrugged. “What’s the difference?”
Brayden opened his mouth, and I knew he was about to explain exactly what the difference was. I quickly rushed in. “Yours looks good on you,” I told Trey. “Looks like all those hours of weight training paid off—and I finally get to see the tattoo.”
Like Brayden’s, Trey’s tunic was draped over one shoulder, giving a glimpse of his lower back. Trey, like half the school, had a tattoo. But unlike the rest, his hadn’t been part of the high-inducing, sinister vampire blood ones that had swept the student body. Trey’s was a sun with highly stylized rays. It had been done in normal, dark blue tattoo ink. Eddie had told me about it, but I’d never gotten a look at it before, seeing as Trey didn’t really go shirtless around me.
Some of Trey’s enthusiasm dimmed, and he turned slightly, keeping his back away from us. “Well, it’s pretty softcore compared to yours. Nice to see it out again, by the way.”
I absentmindedly touched my cheek. I usually covered the golden lily with makeup at school, but I figured here at the dance, I could claim it as part of the costume if any teachers grilled me about the dress code.
Another fast song came on, and Trey brightened again. “Time to show off my moves. You guys coming? Or are you going to supervise the punch all night?”
“I don’t really do fast dancing,” said Brayden. I nearly sagged in relief.
“Me either,” I said.
Trey gave us a rueful smile before heading out. “Color me surprised.”
Brayden and I spent a good deal of that evening by the punch, actually, continuing our discussion of Halloween’s origins and the larger subjugation of pagan holidays. Friends of mine came by occasionally, and Kristin and Julia in particular couldn’t stop gushing about my dress. Every so often, I’d also catch a glimpse of Eddie patrolling the crowds, silently and covertly. Maybe he should’ve been a ghost. He was almost always within sight of Jill and Micah but focusing on guardian mode seemed to have saved him from pining over her too much.
Both Brayden and I stopped talking when a slow song finally came on. We tensed and then exchanged glances, knowing what was coming. “Okay,” he said. “We can only avoid this for so long.”
I nearly burst out laughing, and he answered with a small smile. He too was fully aware of our social ineptitude. Somehow, that was comforting. “Now or never,” I agreed.
We walked over to the dance floor, joining other couples locked in embraces. Calling what most of them were doing “dancing” was kind of a stretch. Most were just kind of stiffly rocking and rotating around. A few were simply using the opportunity to plaster themselves all over each other and make out. They were quickly pulled apart by chaperones.
I took hold of one of Brayden’s hands, and he rested his other on my hip. Aside from the kiss, this was probably the most intimate contact we’d had so far. There were still a few inches between us, but I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed at the change to my normal personal space boundaries. I reminded myself that I liked and trusted Brayden and that there was nothing weird about this. As usual, I didn’t feel surrounded in hearts or rainbows, but I didn’t feel threatened either. Attempting to shift my thoughts from our closeness, I listened to the song and immediately got a feel for its count. About a minute into the song, Brayden realized what I wa
s doing.
“You… you can dance,” he said in amazement.
I looked up at him in surprise. “Of course.” I was hardly sweeping across the floor in some grand ballroom waltz, but all of my movements were timed to the song’s beats. I couldn’t really imagine how else you would dance. Brayden, meanwhile, was only one step removed from the rigid movements of most of the other couples. “It’s not hard,” I added. “It’s just kind of mathematical.”
Once I put it into those terms, Brayden got on board. He was a quick study and counted off the beats with me. Before long, we looked as though we’d been taking dance lessons forever. Even more surprising, I glanced up at him once, expecting to see him concentrating and counting. Instead, he was regarding me with a soft expression… an affectionate one, even. Flushing, I looked away.
Amazingly, the smell of coffee still clung to him, even though he hadn’t worked today. Maybe no amount of showering could get rid of that scent. Yet, as much as I loved eau de coffee, I found myself thinking of the way Adrian’s cologne had smelled at Wolfe’s.
When the next fast song came on, Brayden and I took a break, and he excused himself to go talk to the DJ. When he returned, he refused to explain his mysterious errand, but he seemed supremely pleased with himself. Another slow song soon followed, and we headed back to the dance floor.
And for once, conversation between us stilled. It was enough to just dance for a while. This is what it’s like to lead a simple life, I thought. This is what people my age do. No grand machinations or fights between good and—
“Sydney?”
Jill was standing beside us—a worried expression on her face. My inner alarms immediately went off, wondering what had caused such a sudden change from her happy, carefree attitude earlier. “What’s wrong?” I asked. My first fear was for Adrian, that she’d sensed something through the bond. I shook the thought. I needed to be worrying about Moroi assassins, not his well-being.
Jill said nothing but simply nodded toward the punch table, almost exactly where Brayden and I had been earlier. Trey was back, talking animatedly to a girl in a Venetian mask. The mask was beautiful—an icy blue, decorated with silver leaves and flowers. The mask was also familiar. Jill had worn it in Lia’s runway show and had been allowed to keep it. Equally familiar was this masked girl’s outfit, a threadbare shirt and ragged jean shorts—
“No,” I said, recognizing the long, strawberry blonde hair. “Angeline. How did she get here? Never mind.” There were any number of people she could have sneaked here with. The chaperones probably wouldn’t have noticed her on a shuttle bus. “We have to get her out of here. If she’s caught, she’ll be expelled for sure.”
“The mask does hide her features,” Jill pointed out. “Maybe no one will notice.”
“Mrs. Weathers will,” I said, sighing. “That woman’s got a sixth sense for—oh. Too late.”
Mrs. Weathers was chaperoning on the other side of the room, but her eagle eyes missed nothing. Peering over the crowded dance floor, I saw her begin making her way toward the punch. I didn’t think she’d made a positive ID on Angeline yet, but her suspicions were definitely raised.
“What’s wrong?” asked Brayden, glancing between Jill and me. No doubt we wore mirrored expressions of dismay.
“Our cousin’s about to get in some serious trouble,” I said.
“We have to do something.” Jill’s eyes were wide and anxious. “We have to get her out of here.”
“How?” I exclaimed.
Mrs. Weathers had reached the refreshments table, just as Trey and Angeline began walking toward the dance floor. I saw her start to go after them, but Mrs. Weathers didn’t get very far—because the punch bowl suddenly exploded.
Well, not the bowl itself. The punch inside exploded, spraying out in a spectacular shower of bright green liquid. There were shrieks as several nearby people got splashed, but it was Mrs. Weathers who took the brunt of it.
I heard a sharp intake of breath from Brayden. “How in the world did that happen? That must have—Sydney?
I’d cried out and jerked a few feet away, knowing exactly what had caused that bowl to explode. Brayden assumed my reaction was fear of injury. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’re too far away for any glass to be over here.”
Immediately, I looked at Jill. She gave me a small, helpless shrug that said, Well, what else was I supposed to do? My usual reaction to Moroi magic was disgust and fear. Tonight, shock and dismay were there too. We didn’t need attention drawn to us. True, no one knew or would even guess that Jill had used vampire water magic to create the punch distraction, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t want any word of weird, unexplainable phenomena leaking out of Amberwood. We needed to stay under the radar.
“Are you okay?” Eddie had suddenly appeared by our side—or rather, Jill’s side. “What happened?” He wasn’t even looking at the punch. His focus was all on Jill, and just like earlier, she actually seemed to notice it. Brayden was the one who answered, his eyes alight with intellectual curiosity as he watched teachers scurry and try to clean up the mess.
“Some sort of chemical reaction, if I had to guess. Could be as simple as using baking soda. Or maybe some kind of mechanical device?”
I gave Eddie a pointed look. “It was a prank,” I said. “Anyone could’ve done it.”
Eddie looked at me, then looked back at Jill. He gave a slow nod. “I see. We should get you out of here,” he told her. “You never know what—”
“No, no,” I said. “Get Angeline out of here.”
“Angeline?” Eddie’s face registered disbelief. “But how…?”
I directed him toward where she stood with Trey on the dance floor. They, like many others, were staring at the aftermath of the punch explosion with wonder. “I don’t know how she got here,” I said. “It’s irrelevant. She needs to leave. Mrs. Weathers nearly caught her.”
A knowing glint flashed in Eddie’s eyes. “But the punch distracted her?”
“Yes.”
His attention fell back on Jill, and he smiled. “Convenient timing.”
She smiled back. “I guess we got lucky this time.” Their gazes locked, and it was almost a shame to interrupt. “Go,” I told Eddie. “Get Angeline.”
He cast one last look at Jill and then jumped into action. I couldn’t hear the conversation as he spoke with Angeline and Trey, but the look on his face would accept no arguments. I could see Trey yielding to family authority, and after a few more arguments, Angeline gave in as well. Eddie quickly escorted her out, and to my relief, neither Mrs. Weathers nor anyone else seemed to notice.
“Jill,” I said. “It might be best if you and Micah leave early. You don’t have to go right this second… but soon.”
Jill nodded, face sad. “I understand.”
Even if no one would connect her to this, it was best if she wasn’t around. Already, I could see people gathering at the table and, like Brayden, trying to figure out what could have caused such a phenomenon. She vanished into the crowd. Brayden finally looked away from the spectacle. He started to say something to me and then suddenly jerked his head toward the DJ.
“Oh no,” he said, face crestfallen.
“What?” I asked, half-expecting the DJ’s table to collapse or a speaker to catch on fire.
“This song. I requested it for you… but it’s almost over.”
I tilted my head to listen. I didn’t know the song, but it was slow and romantic and made me feel… well, kind of guilty. Here it was, a sentimental gesture from Brayden, ruined by my “family’s” wacky hijinks. I caught hold of his hand.
“Well, it’s not over yet. Come on.”
We were able to dance to the last minute of it, but it was clear that Brayden was disappointed. I wanted to make it up to him somehow and, in spite of everything that had happened, still have the normal high school dance experience I’d wanted.
“The night’s young,” I teased. “I’ll go request one for you, and then you can
try to guess when it comes on.” Considering I didn’t listen to the radio, it probably wouldn’t be that hard to guess. I made the request and then joined Brayden for another slow song. I was still a little anxious about what had happened earlier but told myself all was well now. Jill had left. Eddie had taken care of Angeline. All I had to do was relax and—
A vibration startled me as I danced. I was wearing a tiny, red dress purse over my shoulder. It was lost in the folds of my gown, but the buzz of my cell phone was unmistakable. Apologizing to Brayden, I stopped dancing to check the message. It was from Adrian: We need 2 talk.
Great, I thought as my heart sank. Could this night be any more of a disaster?
I texted back: I’m busy.
His response: I’ll be fast. I’m close by.
A feeling of dread crept over me: How close?
The response was about as bad as I could expect: The parking lot.
CHAPTER 14
“OH, LORD,” I SAID.
“What’s wrong?” asked Brayden. “Is everything okay?”
“Hard to say.” I put the phone back in my purse. “I hate to do this, but I have to go take care of something outside. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
I hesitated. “No, it’s okay.” I had no idea what to expect out there. It was best if Brayden wasn’t subjected to it. “I’ll hurry.”
“Sydney, wait.” Brayden caught hold of my arm. “This… this is the song you requested, isn’t it?” The one we’d been dancing to had just ended, and a new one was on—or, well, an old one. It was about thirty years old.
I sighed. “Yes. It is. I’ll be fast, I promise.”
The temperature outside was pleasant, warm but not oppressively so. We were allegedly due for a rare bit of rain. As I walked toward the parking lot, some of Wolfe’s lessons came back to me. Check your surroundings. Watch for people lurking near cars. Stay in the light. Make sure to—
“Adrian!”
All reasonable thoughts vanished from my head. Adrian was lying on my car.
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