Eternal w-3

by Kristi Cook

  “Wait, can you help me with this first?” I reached into my little clutch and retrieved my bracelet.

  “Sure,” he said, his eyes narrowing a fraction. “What’s that on your wrist?”

  “Oh, right.” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “I . . . um . . . got a tattoo today. Matthew took me,” I added lamely.

  “You did . . . what?”

  “Yeah, it’s a Sâbbat thing, actually. Remember that stuff in the book you gave me? The one Luc translated? I’ve officially taken my mark.” I held out my arm, wrist up. “See?”

  He moved closer, taking my hand in his as he examined the tattoo. “It’s nice,” he said at last. “Pretty, actually. And kind of badass.”

  “I know, right?” I admired it for perhaps the, oh, hundredth time that day, then pulled my hand from his. “Just be careful with it when you put on the bracelet, okay? It’s still a little tender.” That was putting it mildly, but I hated to sound like the wimp that I was.

  “Why don’t you wear the bracelet on your other wrist, then?” he suggested.

  “No, it has to be this one.” I had no idea why, but I knew with one hundred percent certainty that it belonged there on my right wrist, tender or not.

  “If you say so.” He looped the jeweled links around my wrist and secured the clasp. “There you are. It’s beautiful—a gift?”

  “Yeah, from Gran. Wait, whoa!” My wrist felt suddenly warm. It was almost as if heat were emanating directly from my tattoo and warming the stones on the bracelet.

  And then I watched in amazement as the white stones—moonstones, Gran called them—began to . . . to . . . glow. “What. The. Hell.”

  “What?” Aidan asked, his brow knit with confusion.

  “Look!” I held up my wrist, the stones glowing brighter now. “It’s somehow working with my mark!” Full realization dawned on me, and I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I think . . . I think it’s telling me there’s a vampire present. White, because you’re not a threat.”

  I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I did. Just like that.

  Wow.

  “Well, I suppose that’s useful,” Aidan quipped, looking somewhat amused.

  “Wait, what about Luc? Is he around somewhere?” Mrs. Girard agreed to let Aidan come with me to Atlanta only if Luc accompanied him, and yet I hadn’t seen the man, not once.

  Aidan leaned back against the doorframe. “He’s around somewhere, now that the sun’s set. Lurking in the shadows, I suppose.”

  “How’s he supposed to guard you, if you can go out in daylight and he can’t? I’m surprised he’s not taking the elixir.”

  “Luc would never compromise his abilities like that. We’ve an agreement, though—he knows I’m not going anywhere. Anyway, you ready?”

  I nodded. “I’m ready. I’ll see y’all later,” I yelled out toward the back of house. I was pretty sure everyone was gathered in the kitchen, trying to be discreet.

  I heard a muffled reply that might have been “Have fun,” as we stepped outside. The night was beautiful—balmy and unseasonably warm, the sky clear and starry, illuminated by a nearly full moon.

  “It’s a perfect night, isn’t it?” Aidan asked, glancing up beyond the curving branches of weeping willow that hung over Gran’s driveway.

  I paused on the walk, allowing him to wrap one arm around my shoulders. “It is. So far, this whole day has been perfect.”

  “I’m glad,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Taking my hand, he led me to his rental car—a sleek, silver convertible—and opened the passenger door for me, helping me inside.

  I’m not sure why it surprised me that he knew how to drive—after all, he’d had plenty of time to learn. Still, it was weird watching him climb in behind the wheel. This wasn’t part of our normal routine, at least not in New York, where driving was pretty much unnecessary.

  “Okay, blindfold on,” he said, tossing the scrap of black silk into my lap. “Here, turn around and I’ll tie it.”

  “You were actually serious about that?”

  His mouth curved into a smile. “Completely. You trust me, don’t you?”

  “Why, were you planning on abducting me or something? I thought we were just going to dinner.”

  He leveled a stare in my direction. “Put it on, and perhaps you’ll find out.”

  “Okay, okay.” I lifted it up to cover my eyes, surprised to find that the silk smelled pleasantly of lavender and vanilla. Turning in my seat, I held up the ties and waited for Aidan to secure it.

  As soon as he finished, he reached over me to grab the seat belt and pull it across my lap. I heard the buckle click into place, and then we were moving, backing down the driveway.

  “I hope this doesn’t make me queasy,” I said, only half joking. “The day won’t be so perfect if I puke all over the car, you know.”

  “Oh, I know. Just sit tight, Vi,” came his disembodied voice.

  Fifteen or so minutes later, I was convinced we were driving in circles. “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” I asked, clutching my little purse with sweaty palms.

  “Hey, are you questioning my super Spidey senses?”

  “I’m pretty sure Spider-Man isn’t a vampire,” I said with a laugh.

  “But wouldn’t it be cool if he was? And just using the whole spider thing as a cover?”

  “Hmm, I get the feeling you’ve actually thought this through.”

  “Oh, you’ve no idea the extent of it.” He laid a hand on top of mine, gently stroking it. “We’re just about there, by the way.”

  “Good, because I’m seriously feeling like I’m about to heave.”

  We began to slow, eventually making a sharp turn to the left. Seconds later, we made another turn—into a parking spot, maybe? Finally, he shifted into park and cut the engine.

  “Okay, hold tight,” he said. “Just let me come around and help you out.”

  “Wait, I still have to keep the blindfold on?”

  He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Just a minute or two longer, love.”

  “Ugh, fine.” My carefully applied mascara was probably all smudged by now, anyway. What was a few more minutes?

  Still, even though I knew I was safe with Aidan, I felt vulnerable. And . . . oh, my God, I hadn’t brought a stake. Not that I had any plans to use one, but still. Matthew would kill me if he knew I was traipsing around who knows where completely unarmed. But when I’d switched from my usual bag to the green silk clutch, I’d had to leave it behind. It’s not like I could wear it strapped to my calf, not in this dress.

  Beside me, the door opened. The balmy air slipped over my skin, caressing it as Aidan’s hands reached for mine. “Careful, now,” he said, helping me out. “Okay, just hold my arm. That’s it, just a dozen steps or so, and then we’ve got some stairs to navigate. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

  I nodded, stumbling along blindly beside him as best I could. “Couldn’t you just do that thing you do? You know, where I close my eyes and hold on, and we go from here to there in an instant?”

  He laughed softly. “I could. But where would be the fun in that? Here’s the stairs I mentioned. Hmm, let’s try this.”

  In an instant, he’d scooped me up into arms. “Hold on, love.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he sprinted effortlessly up the stairs. I suppose it was effortless to someone who possessed superhuman strength and agility.

  “Okay, down you go.” He set me gently on my feet, steadying me with one arm wrapped around my middle. “Ready to take off the blindfold?”

  I let out a sigh. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  I felt his fingers working the ties at the back of my head, and then the silk fell away from my eyes. I blinked several times, trying to get my bearings as my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. We were standing on a familiar white-columned porch lit by hanging brass lamps.

  “The club?” I asked, surprised. “We’re having dinner here?”
/>
  “Your gran said it was nice,” Aidan answered with a shrug.

  “It’s very nice.” Probably the most exclusive country club in the South—one of them, at least—and my family had been members for generations. I loved coming to the club, loved its formal elegance. I was suddenly glad Gran had suggested it. “But it’s only five minutes from Gran’s house. We were driving around for almost a half hour!”

  He dipped his head closer to my ear. “Perhaps I wanted to keep you in that blindfold for as long as possible,” he whispered, his British accent more evident now. “I was enjoying imagining the possibilities. For later, perhaps?”

  Heat flooded my cheeks, my pulse rocketing up to an alarming rate. I had the sudden urge to get this boy alone, and fast.

  “Miss McKenna!” one of the tuxedo-clad hosts called out, interrupting my enjoyable train of thought. The man hurried over to us with a solicitous smile while I struggled to force my expression back to neutral. “Your grandmother told us to expect you. I’m afraid your table isn’t quite ready yet. If you’ll just follow me, I’ll find you a quiet place to wait.”

  “That’d be great, thanks.” It was a little weird, actually, as my family had had a reserved table for as long as I could remember, but whatever. I glanced up at Aidan, who grinned at me with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

  I can hear your heart, he said inside my head. Beating awfully fast now, isn’t it?

  Shut up. I nudged him in the ribs as we followed the host down the long hallway, past the main dining room on the right, and turned left instead. He opened a door and motioned for us to enter.

  Only, something wasn’t right. Instinctively, I reached for my bag, wanting my stake. But then I remembered that I’d left it at home, that I had only my silly little clutch.

  Crap.

  Reluctantly, I took a step though the doorway and then froze, one hand gripping Aidan’s sleeve. My heart thrummed against my ribs, my breath coming faster as I noticed that the room—the ballroom, if I remembered correctly—was completely dark.

  Dark room. No stake. I didn’t like this, not one bit. My panic ratcheted up a notch, and I struggled to tamp it down, to calm my breathing.

  Aidan reached for my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Everything’s fine,” he said, dragging me forward now.

  What the—

  “Surprise!”

  The crystal chandeliers flickered to life, the ballroom suddenly full of light—and people. Tons of people.

  I let out my breath in a rush, relief washing over me as I glanced around the room, ticking off the familiar faces as they launched into an enthusiastic chorus of “Happy Birthday.”

  Whitney, Sophie, Tyler. Cece and Joshua. Marissa and Max. Kate and Jack. A dozen or so of my old friends from Windsor Day, including a couple of guys from the fencing team. A few of Whitney’s ballet buddies whom I’d gotten friendly with over the years.

  And there in the back, standing beside a cut-glass punch bowl, was Matthew, one hand resting on the back of Gran’s wheelchair. Beside them, Lupe and Melanie. Whitney’s parents, even.

  Tears sprang to my eyes as I took it all in—the colorful decorations, a table piled high with presents, a DJ set up in the back, an enormous cake beside the punch bowl. Round tables were set with lavender and cream-colored linens; china place settings gleamed beside heavy silverware and crystal glasses. In the center of each table sat a floral arrangement. I could smell them, even from where I stood just inside the door—orange blossoms.

  Aidan bent his head toward mine, his breath warm against my ear. “Happy birthday, love.”

  19 ~ Dance of the Devil

  I still can’t believe he pulled this off,” I said, my gaze fixed on Aidan as he stood by the punch bowl, deep in conversation with Matthew, Tyler, and Sophie. About science stuff, I supposed.

  Cece licked the remaining frosting off her fork and set it back on her plate. “Let’s just say he was driven. He started planning it the day he got back.”

  “And you!” I said, turning toward Whitney, who sat on my other side. “Clearly his partner in crime. I can’t believe you didn’t give me some kind of heads-up.”

  “No way. I was sworn to silence,” Whitney said with a smile. Surprisingly enough, she seemed perfectly at ease in Aidan’s company, despite what had happened over Christmas break. I could only assume that the Aidan Effect had something to do with it, but whatever the case, I was grateful. And I was happy to see that her cheeks were more rounded now than the last time I’d seen her. She hadn’t touched the cake, of course, but she had eaten a few bites of dinner—steak and lobster tails with garlic mashed potatoes and French carrots.

  As soon as we’d finished dinner and cut the cake, Gran and the other adults had left—well, except Matthew. The DJ was just starting to crank up the music. And I was ready, my feet tapping to the beat beneath the table as one of my favorite songs started playing.

  “Who gave the DJ the playlist?” I asked.

  “Aidan put you in charge of music, didn’t he, Cece?” Whitney asked.

  Cece nodded, looking gorgeous in a pale pink sheath. “Marissa and Max helped too. A group effort, really.”

  “I still can’t believe it.” I shook my head in amazement. “I mean, you all flew to Atlanta just for this?”

  Cece widened her eyes in mock surprise. “What do you mean, just for this? This is huge. Epic. Your eighteenth birthday!”

  “You didn’t have a big birthday blowout,” I pointed out. We’d quietly celebrated Cece’s eighteenth just last month with cupcakes at the café. She’d refused to make a big deal out of it.

  “Yeah, but you know”—she sighed heavily—“things were still kind of sober then. Anyway, I didn’t turn into some badass vampire slayer on my eighteenth birthday. You gotta own it, girl.”

  I just shrugged, not quite sure I felt all that different than I had the day before, at least where vampires were concerned. I mean, yeah, I had my mark now and the bracelet. Still, it felt more like an easing-in type situation at this point. One by one, the pieces falling into place.

  All this buildup leading to my eighteenth birthday, as if everything was going to change—as if I was going to change—just because I’d reached the magical age. Maybe I’d been worrying over nothing.

  “Where are y’all staying, anyway?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

  “Same hotel as Aidan and Dr. Byrne. Aidan arranged all the rooms and everything. We’re flying out tomorrow afternoon, though. Sophie, Max, and Marissa are headed down to Saint Bart’s. Oh, and Tyler, too.”

  “What? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope,” Cece said. “I think something’s going on with his mom. He didn’t want to go home, and since he and Max are roommates and all . . . well, you know. It just made sense.”

  The idea that Tyler might be working his way through my friends—first Cece, then Kate, then Sophie—made me uncomfortable. On the other hand, he’d gone on only one or two casual dates with Cece, and as far as I could tell, there wasn’t anything going on with him and Sophie.

  At least, not yet.

  Cece obviously sensed my hesitation. “You don’t think he and Sophie . . . you know?”

  “I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “Do you? I mean, it’s not like it matters, right?”

  Cece leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. “I think she’s secretly into him but afraid to tell us. Which is too bad, because I think she’d be good for him.”

  “Sophie is the redhead, right?” Whitney asked, and Cece and I nodded. “Yeah, I’ve noticed the way she watches him. I’m pretty sure she’s crushing hard.”

  Cece gave me a pointed look. “See? Tyler just needs to step up and—oops, speak of the devil. On your left,” she warned as Tyler approached our table.

  “Hey, birthday girl,” he drawled, reaching for my hand. “Come dance with me.”

  “You think you can handle me?” I asked with a grin.

  “Well, wh
y don’t we find out?” he shot back.

  Laughing, I took his hand and followed him out to the center of the floor.

  * * *

  An hour later, I returned to the table where I’d stashed my bag and shoes and collapsed into a chair, exhausted. I’d been dancing nonstop, making my way around the dance floor from group to group.

  Mostly, Aidan just watched, claiming me only for the slow songs. But when he held me in his arms, the heated look in his gaze promised more—much more. I couldn’t stop thinking about that silk blindfold in his pocket, his teasing words about later. My skin tingled all over, just thinking about it.

  As far as I was concerned, later couldn’t come fast enough. I was feeling brave—reckless, even. My mind wandered back to that day in his room, the day he’d returned. Skin against skin, his body beneath mine.

  I had to pick up a glass of water from the table and press it against the side of my face to cool my heated cheeks as I considered the possibilities.

  Just then, Matthew dropped into the seat beside me, his eyes shadowed with concern. “Hey,” he said. “Having fun?”

  “Yeah, I’m having a great time. Why?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I thought I felt . . . a disturbance in the force or something. You suddenly felt . . . off to me.”

  Oh, man. I sure hoped he couldn’t read my mind now that I’d turned eighteen. We probably should have tested it earlier, while we were out getting my tattoo. The last thing I needed was Matthew knowing what I’d been thinking about just before he sat down.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said with a shrug, going for casual. “The party’s great. It looks like everyone’s having fun, right?”

  “Wait,” he said, going suddenly still, his gaze fixed on my bracelet. “Was it doing that before?”

  I glanced down at my wrist, suddenly aware of a sharp, burning sensation. Even more ominous, my bracelet’s center stone, one of the bloodstones, seemed to be swirling, the black and red roiling like an angry storm cloud. “That’s not good,” I muttered.

  “What does it mean?” Matthew asked, his gaze meeting mine.