Mirage (26 page)

“Well, thanks for trying.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“What’s your problem, exactly?” I asked, feeling my hackles rise. “It’s not like I’ve ever done anything to you.”

Her sharp gaze pierced mine. “I don’t like vampires, and I don’t like people who hang out with vampires. Is that really so hard to understand?”

“One vampire saved your life, and another offered you shelter. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Or are you so self-centered that—”

“Oh, save me your little speech. I repaid my debt to Aidan, remember? He wouldn’t still be here otherwise. Anyway, it’s mostly biological, if you must know.”

“Fascinating,” I said mockingly.

She eyed me closely. “But vampires can’t be trusted. You know that, right? Blackwell was a prime example. It doesn’t surprise me one bit that he sold out Aidan—or tried to, at least. That’s just their way.”

“Is that what your pack told you? You know, the people who were going to marry you off at sixteen? The ones who tried to kill you?” I didn’t even try to hide my disgust.

“You can say what you like about us, but we don’t lie—not to each other, at least. It’s biologically impossible.”

“Because you can hear each other’s thoughts?”

“Yeah, unfortunately. Anyway, I’m not going to play games and pretend I like you, when I don’t.” She eyed me sharply. “I know you’re used to being treated like a pet, but lycans don’t take pets like vampires do. We don’t play around with humans, manipulating them. It’s not our style.”

I raised my brows. “So you’re saying I’m Aidan’s pet? His little human plaything?”

“Hey, if the shoe fits. He keeps you on a pretty short leash, doesn’t he? Like I said, that’s a vampire thing. Kind of degrading, though, if you ask me.”

I shook my head, seething inside. “You don’t know
anything
about my relationship with Aidan.”

“You say that now, but I’ve seen it before. Soon enough you’ll be all like, ‘Ooh, make me immortal so we can be together forever!’ It’s so pathetic.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity of that. As if that was ever going to happen. I was a vampire slayer, not a vampire wannabe. “I can promise you that I will never, ever say that. Not in a million years.”

Her mouth twitched with a smile. “Sure you won’t. They
all
do, eventually.”

“Whatever.” I took a sip of my cold coffee, mostly just to keep myself from saying anything more. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.

She stood, zipping up her jacket as she did so. “Well, this has been fun, but I’m going to head back.”

“Go for it,” I said, wiping my mouth with the back of one hand.

She looked off toward the campus buildings looming in the distance, then back at me. I could have sworn I saw indecision flit across her features. “I’ll leave you with this,” she said at last. “I suggest you convince Aidan to stop injecting himself with whatever the hell it is he’s working on.”

I couldn’t help but bristle. “Is that a threat?”

“Just a friendly suggestion,” she said with a smirk.

Oh, how I wanted to wipe that smirk off her face. “Gee, thanks, Jenna. I’ll take it into consideration.”

“You do that,” she said with a wink, then sauntered off.

I watched her retreating form until she disappeared over the rise, and then I let out my breath in a huff. How in the world had I
ever
thought she might be a friend?

I shook my head, trying to clear it of her condescending tone. If only I’d walked in some other direction, anywhere but here. I made a mental note to avoid this particular bench from now on. It was obviously way too close to her doghouse.

It was a wonder the girl had any friends at all, I mused. Then again, people were generally drawn to her type—attractive girls who exuded a cool confidence and indifference to the negative opinion of others.

I gazed off toward the river, wondering where the geese had gone. The gray water was still and wide, undisturbed. For several minutes I sat in total silence, watching in quiet fascination as the rays of golden sunlight cast rippling shadows across the water’s surface.

Briefly, I considered reaching out to Aidan again, wanting to hear the sound of his voice in my head. But then I remembered Jenna’s little “pet” comment, and decided against it. He kept me on a short leash? Is that really what she thought?

Shaking my head in annoyance, I stood. What did it matter what Jenna thought? My relationship with Aidan was none of her business, and I refused to let her snarky comments get under my skin. In fact, forget speaking telepathically—I’d drop by the lab and see if I could convince him to go with me to dinner.

And then I sank back to the bench with a groan. My ears began to hum, my vision to tunnel. As I waited for the onslaught of unpleasant images, all I could think of was how glad I was that Jenna wasn’t there to witness it.

I was in the lab. At least, it looked like a lab. There were microscopes along the wall and what I was pretty sure was a Bunsen burner on one of the black-topped tables. I saw a pair of hands before me, holding a dropper. They were extracting a liquid from a small vial and dropping it into a test tube. One drop. Two. Three. Then the vial was capped and put into a little wooden rack. The hands reached for a second vial. …

And just like that, it was over. No more than a second or two had passed, and I was back on the bench, gripping the seat tightly. That was it, no drama, no murder or mayhem—just hands doing science stuff. Aidan’s hands, I reasoned, which actually made me wonder if I’d somehow breached his mind from a distance and was simply seeing him hard at work, through his eyes.

I’d been thinking about him when the vision began—wanting to hear his voice, picturing him there in the chem lab doing his thing. I’d never before mistaken a mind-breaching incident for a vision, but then I’d never breached the mind of a vampire who wasn’t sitting right in front of me. Maybe this was a sign that my
Sâbbat
powers were strengthening.

Why hadn’t I been born a lycan slayer instead?

24 ~ What, No Tacos?

H
ow’s your friend Whitney doing?” Sophie asked. She was perched on the arm of the loveseat, flipping through a magazine while Cece and I got ready for dinner. Beside her, Marissa and Kate were both absorbed with their cell phones.

“Better,” I said, running a brush through my wet hair. “I think I might have actually gotten through to her over Thanksgiving.” At least, I hoped so.

Setting down the brush, I reached up to rub my shoulder. It was really bothering me. A cold front had swept through the Hudson Valley, the temperatures near freezing now—maybe that was to blame? Whatever the reason, it was bad timing, with the All-Ivy fencing tournament coming up. “Hey, Soph, would you mind taking a look at my shoulder?”

“Sure,” she said, setting down the magazine and hopping down from the sofa’s arm. “Let’s see.”

I held out my hand, and she took it firmly in hers and closed her eyes. A second or two later, she opened them and dropped my hand. “Not good,” she said with a wince. “You’ve still got some inflammation in the joint.”

I groaned. “Great. Just what I
don’t
need right now.”

“Hey, you want some Advil?” Cece offered.

“Yeah, maybe,” I said.

Cece swiveled in her chair, toward the sitting area. “Hey, Kate, can you toss me my bag?”

“Sure.” Kate smiled as the little pink messenger bag lifted from the floor by her feet and flew across the room, right into Cece’s waiting arms.

God, I was happy to see them getting along again. The tension was finally gone, everything seemingly back to normal. Even Marissa was spending more time with us, probably because it was more comfortable to be around us now. I hoped that was the reason, and not because things were starting to cool off between her and Max. I knew how much she liked him, as crazy as it was to imagine someone like her with … well, someone like him.

I had to wonder what her conservative parents—an Ivy League professor and a fund-raiser—thought about Marissa dating a guy who played the electric guitar and wore eyeliner. Then again, that was the beauty of boarding school—it wasn’t like their daughter’s relationship was in their face. Besides, from what Marissa said, Max was a truly gifted musician. He’d auditioned for several prestigious conservatory programs, so it wasn’t as if he was going to end up playing in subway stations or anything like that.

“C’mon, guys, hurry up,” Marissa said, glancing up from her phone. “It’s taco night.”

“I thought you hated taco night,” Cece said as she twisted her hair into a knot and pinned it at the back of her head.

Marissa stood, reaching for her own bag. “Only when I’m hanging out with Max after dinner. Nothing worse than taco breath.”

“Someone needs to tell that to Jack,” Kate said with a grimace. “I swear, it used to be like licking the floor at Taco Bell.”

Cece rose, tucking her favorite tube of lip gloss into her pocket. “You’ve had a lot of experience licking the floor at Taco Bell?” she asked, raising her brows quizzically.

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” Kate said with a smirk. “You know what I mean.”

I let out a sigh. It was nice to have everything back to normal again.

Sophie stood by the door now, one hand on the knob. “You guys ready? I’m starving here.”

“Yeah,” I said with a grin. “Just let me grab—” I stopped short, reaching for the edge of my desk as I lowered myself to the chair. “Uh-oh.”

My vision was tunneling, the telltale buzz in my ears growing louder.

“Grab what?” I heard Cece ask, her voice faint now. “Violet?”

But I was gone.

I was inside somewhere, my surroundings unfamiliar. There was carpeting—thick, patterned carpeting. I was crying, deep gulping sobs that made it difficult to catch my breath. “You have to do it, Vi,” a voice pleaded. Aidan. I turned to face him, nearly blinded by tears. “Please, I beg of you,” he continued. “It has to go into my heart. You can do it; I’ve taught you how. Don’t let me down, not now. You promised.”

“No,” I said, my voice hoarse, my throat aching so badly I could barely stand it. “Please, no. Don’t make me, Aidan. I can’t do it.”

“Yes, love. You can. Right here.” He tapped his chest, above his heart. “There’s no time to waste. You must do it now. Now,” he repeated, his tone urgent.

“I can’t,” I cried. “I can’t do it. How can you ask me to?”

“Because I love you, Vi. I love you, with all my heart. It has to be you—don’t you see?”

I could feel the hot tears rolling down my cheeks as I nodded. He was right; I knew he was right. I had to—I’d promised. I raised my right arm, my fingers clutched tightly around something smooth. I took a step back, then lunged forward, my arm swinging in an arc that ended at Aidan’s chest.

A scream escaped my lips as I hit my mark. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to look, unable to see what I’d done. Blindly, I stumbled back, my own heart aching as if it had been cleaved in two. This was it, I realized. I had to see, to make sure …

I opened my eyes just in time to see Aidan crumple to the floor, his eyes wide, staring, unseeing.

And then it was over, just like that. “No,” I whimpered.

“Violet?” Cece wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Geez, that was a long one. Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “No. I can’t … I wouldn’t.”

“Someone get her some water,” Cece called out. “Hey, it’s not trying to pull you back under, is it?”

“N-no,” I stammered, my whole body trembling. I couldn’t possibly have seen what I thought I’d seen. Not again, damn it.

I needed to replay it, right away. “I’ve got to call Matth—Dr. Byrne,” I muttered, rising on unsteady legs. “Right now.”

“Wow, this must be serious,” Matthew said as soon as I stepped into his office. “It’s taco night.”

I stopped short, covering my mouth with one hand. The thought of tacos—or any food at all—made my stomach lurch uncomfortably.

He reached for my shoulder, his brow furrowed as he led me to the chair opposite his desk. “I’m sorry, Violet. I shouldn’t have been so flippant. What happened?”

My legs practically buckled beneath me as I lowered myself to the seat, draping my jacket over the back of the chair as I did so. “It’s—I had a vision. A bad one. Really, really awful.”

“You want to try and replay it?”

I nodded, my mouth so dry I could barely swallow. “Yeah, I … I didn’t get many details. Nothing about where or when. This can’t be happening. Not again.”

Matthew leaned back against the front edge of his desk, peering down at me closely. “Are you okay? You’re shaking all over. I have to admit, I’m pretty worried here.”

Not half as worried as I am.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. “Just really unsettled by this one.” How many times was I going to have to watch myself kill him? Over and over again, until I actually
did
it? I’d managed to thwart it before. Was this the universe righting itself, correcting the continuum that I’d somehow messed up? Because it was my destiny to kill him, or so the legend went.

No.
I refused to believe that. I had free will. The ability to change the future was part of the gift of foresight—of precognition, or whatever the heck you wanted to call it. Otherwise, what was the point?

“Okay, Violet, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on. Seriously, I don’t like this.” He raked both hands through his hair, looking suddenly as discomposed as I felt. “What did you see that’s got you this freaked out?”

I felt my instincts rev at full throttle. I wanted to tell him.
Needed
to. I had to talk to someone; I needed someone to help me through it this time. I couldn’t tell Aidan—not yet. Oh, he’d reached out to me telepathically right after the vision had ended, while I was walking over to Matthew’s office. He always knew when I had a vision that frightened me, especially if he was involved. I couldn’t say why, except that maybe it somehow triggered that psychic connection between us.