Eternal

20 ~ Dead Wrong

I’m not sure how I made it through Kate’s funeral without losing my mind—how any of us did, really. The last week of break had been nothing short of a nightmare. Only, there’d been no waking from this one, no sigh of relief when the alarm sounded and you found yourself tucked safely in bed.

My sorrow was unrelenting. I’d screwed up; I’d somehow sent Kate out to suffer what should have been Jack’s fate. How had I missed the clues? True, I hadn’t expected to find my friends in Atlanta during break. I had expected this vision to take place closer to home. The semiformal attire had made me think prom, maybe. The filled-out, fully leaved trees suggested later in the season, at least in New York. I’d thought there was still time to figure it out.

I’d been wrong. Dead wrong. And Kate had paid the price.

Thanks to Aidan’s mind tricks, the Atlanta police, along with Kate’s family, were convinced that some random, depraved murderer had killed her in a particularly gruesome manner. A botched robbery, they theorized. After all, rich kids wandering out in the woods around a posh country club would be easy targets. That explanation was good enough for them.

But those of us who knew the truth, well . . . we’d have to live with it for the rest of our lives.

School had offered us an extra week’s time off, but we’d all been anxious to return, to be together again. The first day back, they’d called us all to the school’s counselor’s office, even Matthew. I know they were trying their best, but talking about it didn’t help. Not for me and certainly not for Jack.

Jack, who had headed back inside the club after receiving a frantic text from Kate that night. Only he hadn’t bothered to text her back to tell her he was coming, and so she’d gone out looking for him.

And I would never, ever forgive myself for that.

My cell, set to vibrate, buzzed beside me. Patsy. With a sigh, I connected the call.

“Hey, Mom.” I lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hey,” Patsy said. “So, how are you doing?”

“Fine,” I lied. “I mean, I’m hanging in there.”

I heard her sigh. “I really wish you’d taken the school up on their offer and stayed home a few more days. It’s just too soon after something like that.”

“Well, I talked to the school counselor yesterday.” I figured that would satisfy her.

“Oh, that’s good. Okay.” I could hear the relief in her voice. “I . . . um . . . I kind of need to talk to you about something important, but I know it’s not really a good time.”

Uh-oh. What now? “It’s fine,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Well, this is kind of big. It’s quite a shock, even for me.”

“Okay. Go on,” I prodded.

“Paul’s asked me to marry him,” she blurted out. “And I said yes.”

“Wow. That’s . . . great,” I said lamely. “Congratulations.”

“There’s more,” she warned, and I braced for it. “We’re moving to Australia. In June, right after your graduation.”

“You’re what?”

“I know it seems sudden, but we’ve been talking about it for a while now. And . . . well, I figured you’d probably want to go straight to Paris and get settled once you graduate anyway, so—”

“Wait, what do you mean, Paris?” I sat up, glancing over at the calendar on the wall, realizing with a start that April first—decision day—had come and gone. My heart began to race, my palms damp now. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Didn’t you check the university’s website on the first of the month? I thought you told me—”

“I totally forgot to check. Are you saying the official acceptance came in the mail already?”

“Yes! The American University of Paris. I thought you said it was your top choice.”

“It is my top choice.” At least, it had been. The last couple of weeks had made decisions like this one seem irrelevant.

“So . . . are you excited?”

“Of course! Paris. Wow, I just can’t believe it. I guess I sort of pushed it to the back of my mind. You know, with everything else . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

“Of course, honey. I know it’s been a tough time. She was your friend, after all, and it was just so horrible, so random. It could have been any one of you. I just hope they catch that sick bastard.”

But they wouldn’t, of course. This was one murder that would remain unsolved.

“Anyway,” Patsy continued after a heavy sigh, “the lease isn’t up here until the end of September, so you’ve got plenty of time to pack up your stuff. And . . . I know Australia’s far away, but you can come visit us anytime you want. Seriously, Violet.”

I was glad for the change of subject. “I . . . yeah, of course. So . . . when are you getting married?”

“We haven’t decided yet, but it’ll be really low-key. Just City Hall or something.” In other words, I wasn’t invited. “Wait, can you hold on a sec, Violet? Actually, I better take this call. I’ll try you back later, okay?”

“Sure,” I answered.

“Thanks. Love you!” she chirped.

“Love you too,” I said, then ended the call. I set aside my cell, my thoughts spinning.

On the one hand, Patsy moving to Australia would make things so much easier. I’d be able to go to Paris and do whatever Mrs. Girard asked of me without any questions. There’d be no one around to check in with. No one to lie to.

But on the other hand, Patsy was the closest thing to a parent I had left, and Australia was far away—literally on the other side of the globe. I was going to miss her.

And then there was the news about my acceptance letter. I hurried over to my laptop, needing to see for myself. A few clicks later, and there it was—application status: accepted. I wondered if Aidan had remembered to check.

I started to reach out to him telepathically and then stopped myself. We’d barely spoken since that awful night in Atlanta. He probably thought I was still angry with him for refusing to turn Kate, but I wasn’t.

I was ashamed of the way I’d acted, horrified that I’d asked him to do something so terrible. At the time, I’d seen it only as a way to save Kate. To cheat death. I owed him an apology.

Aidan?

Silence. I stared at the clock, waiting for him to respond. A full minute passed. Then another.

Hi, he said at last. You settled in yet?

Yeah. Can we meet somewhere?

I’m in my room. Why don’t you just come here?

I hesitated. Are you sure? Won’t we get in trouble?

Honestly, Vi, I don’t think Mrs. Girard cares what we do anymore.

That was good enough for me. Okay, I’ll be right there.

I’ll leave the door unlocked.

When I stepped inside his room ten minutes later, Aidan was sitting at his desk, his golden head bent over a book. He turned toward me as I shut the door, a wary expression on his face. Behind me, I heard the lock click into place.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How are you doing?”

“Better than Jack,” I answered with a shrug. He was back at school, an empty shell of himself. He kept his distance from the rest of us, just going through the motions. But it was clear that his heart wasn’t in it, and who could blame him?

“I shouldn’t have told him about the vision,” I said. I’d saddled him with unnecessary guilt—with the knowledge that she’d sacrificed herself for him.

“You only told the truth.” Aidan closed his book but remained seated, studying me closely. I could feel the hurt radiating off him in waves.

Tentatively, I took a step toward him. “Aidan, I . . . There’s so much I have to say to you. I’m just . . . I’m going to take down the wall around my thoughts, okay? It’ll be easier.”

I saw his eyes widen a fraction. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, dropping the barrier.

His cool gaze met mine, his head tipped to one side in concentration. I could feel it now, the invasion of my mind, like invisible tentacles that poked and prodded. I forced myself to allow it, to concentrate on my remorse, my shame.

Aidan’s poker face was severely lacking—I could see his every reaction to my thoughts mirrored in his features.

“Okay?” I asked once I was convinced that he understood.

“It’s more than okay, Vi.” He rose, closing the distance between us.

I let out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around me, his lips pressed to my forehead.

“We’re good, then?”

He nodded. “We’re good. If you can forgive me for missing the funeral, that is.”

“I wasn’t surprised you took off, not after the way I treated you.”

“It wasn’t that, Vi. It was Mrs. Girard. She didn’t think it was safe, that’s all. She’s convinced that whoever that vampire was, she was after me. An assassin.”

“Because she knew about the whole Dauphin thing?”

“Probably. Our enemies know that Mrs. Girard is protecting me—they know something’s up. They’ve heard whispers about the Dauphin, and they want to remove the threat. Mrs. Girard is convinced this isn’t the end of it, that they’ll keep sending out scouts—individual assassins—even before there’s full-scale war.”

“But why assassins, if they know the Dauphin can’t be destroyed by one of their kind?”

“Apparently, that’s the one part of the legend that Mrs. Girard and Luc withheld from the rest of the Tribunal. That’s their trump card. Obviously, Dr. Blackwell figured it out, but they think that knowledge died with him and Julius and those two females.”

“So what do we do?”

“For now, we sit tight. Mrs. Girard has upped security—there’s a full force of guards around Winterhaven at all times now.”

I suppressed a shudder. “Vampire guards?”

He nodded. “They’re not a threat. Your bracelet is still glowing white, right?”

I glanced down, noting the now-familiar sight of the glowing moonstones. The bloodstone was totally unaffected. Whoever these vampires were, they were on our side. I let out a sigh of relief. “It’s white. We’re good.”

“Of course, if you ask me, this security force is sending our enemies a clear signal that they’re right—that I am being protected. That I’m a key player in Mrs. Girard’s scheme. That I am the Dauphin. But they didn’t ask me.”

“So you’re not allowed to leave campus anymore?”

“No. I’m on total lockdown here. That’s why I wasn’t at the funeral. But I should have been there for you. It must have been . . . awful.”

I inhaled sharply. “It was awful. I can’t even stand thinking about it. Can you just . . . I don’t know . . . help me forget? Just for a little while?”

“I can try.” He gathered me close, hugging me tightly. “Do you need to be somewhere, or can you stay?”

“I can stay. What’d you have in mind?” I teased, desperate to lighten the mood.

He released me then, peering down at me with one raised brow. “Oh, really now. Going there, are we?” he asked, laying the British accent on thick.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You just sounded so much like an aristocrat. I feel like I should curtsy or something.”

He swept one hand in a grand gesture. “Hey, don’t let me stop you. I’m all for girls falling at my feet.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Tyler,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Minus that annoying Texas drawl, I should hope.”

“Hey, I’m a Georgia peach, remember?” I laid on my accent as thick as possible, drawing out each syllable. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with a drawl.”

Aidan sat on the edge of the daybed, holding out a hand to me. “Come here, then, Georgia peach.”

I complied, settling myself beside him. I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed, feeling my tense muscles relax as I inhaled his familiar scent. “Thank you,” I said, realizing just how much my mood had improved since I’d walked through that door.

“For what?”

“For making me smile. I needed that.”

“It’ll get easier, Vi. Just take it one day at a time.”

I nodded. “I know.” After all, I was no stranger to loss. Neither was Aidan. Maybe it was why we worked so well. “Do you mind if I put on some music?” I asked, reaching into my back pocket to retrieve my cell.

“Breaking the rules again, I see.”

“I figured since I was already breaking a big one by coming to your room, I might as well go all out. Anyway, I’m obsessed with this song. Makes me think of you,” I added, hitting play.

The opening notes of my current favorite song began to play—low, quiet. Melodious. A tambourine joined the acoustic guitar and mandolin as the tempo increased.

“Ugh, angsty Irish rock,” Aidan said dismissively as the chorus began, and I looked up at him in surprise.

“They’re not Irish,” I said.

“Scottish? Welsh?”

I narrowed my eyes. “They’re from Colorado. You don’t like this song?”

“It has a boring beat,” he grumbled.

“A simple beat,” I corrected. “But the lyrics . . .” I trailed off, unable to put my thoughts into words. The lyrics were simply . . . perfect.

“I can’t get past the beat to hear the lyrics,” he said.

“Okay, whatever,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender.

Aidan reached for my right hand. Turning it over, he ran the pad of his thumb over my now fully healed tattoo. “I’d almost forgotten about this. It really does look nice, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. “I love it.”

He released my hand, looking thoughtful now.

“What is it?” I asked.

His gaze met mine, and only then did I notice the faintest trace of red creeping in. The sight should have frightened me, but it didn’t. “I’m sorry your birthday was ruined,” he said at last. “I had such plans for after. Our own private party.”

“I know.” My pulse leapt, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Tell me, Vi,” he said, his brow knitted as he trailed a finger down the side of my face. “Do you believe in the whole concept of soul mates?”

I shook my head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I mean, you just threw me off there with that whole music thing,” I added with a smile.

“I think most people misinterpret the concept,” Aidan began hesitantly. “They expect that their soul mate will be just like them. You know, that a soft, gentle intellectual will fit only with another soft, gentle intellectual. Or a fiery personality can match only another fiery personality. But I think it’s just the opposite, that soul mates are more like two sides of a coin.”

“Oh, really?” I said, intrigued now. It was clear that he’d put a lot of thought into this.

The corners of his mouth twitched with a smile. “Yes, really. And you and I . . . well, we’re so very different, aren’t we? And yet . . . that connection between us was almost instantaneous. You’re the lightheartedness to my solemnity, the spontaneity to my careful planning, the light to my dark. If you’re heads, then I’m tails. Together we’re a whole. Maybe that’s what a soul mate truly is.”

My eyes were damp, I realized, swiping them with the back of my hand. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” I asked.

He leaned toward me, his forehead against mine. “I’ve a pretty good idea of it,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Which is why I should probably get you out of here.”

I knew he was right, and yet I couldn’t help but dip my head lower, brushing my lips against his mouth. I heard his breath catch in his throat, felt him clench his hands into fists by his sides. Still, I opened my mouth against his, needing to taste him, my soul mate.

I was breathless when I finally pulled away, my skin flushed all over, my lips slightly swollen and bruised. Lifting one trembling hand, I traced his bottom lip with my index finger, wincing as I made contact with one sharp, elongated canine.

“I could really use that cure right about now.” Aidan groaned, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“Have you fed lately?” I asked.

“Yeah. That’s not the problem, I’m afraid.” He closed his eyes, taking several deep, calming breaths.

It was those dual needs, I realized—bloodlust tied to desire. He wouldn’t risk biting me again.

“Time to change the subject, then.” My mind cast about for a solution. And then I remembered. “Paris! Patsy said my acceptance came. You know, from AUP. What about you? Did you check online?”

“I totally forgot,” he said. “Anyway, what’s the point? Now that I’ve agreed to this whole Dauphin thing—”

“Because we’re going to cure you, that’s why. Go on.” I waved a hand toward his laptop. “Check right now.”

Just like that, the red receded from his eyes, his teeth fully normal now. He rose, making his way to the desk. Leaning over it, he opened his laptop’s browser and logged on to the university’s application system. A few clicks of the mouse later and he turned back toward me. “Looks like I’m in too,” he said without a trace of emotion.

I let out a sigh, a flicker of hope igniting in my chest. For now, I’d just go along with the assumption that everything would work out—that he’d do his Dauphin thing, set the vampire world back in order, and return to Paris, where we’d have his cure waiting. That was the plan, and I was sticking to it.

“So,” I said, unable to suppress a smile. “Let’s talk about living arrangements in Paris. Roommates, right?”

At first I thought he was going to continue to argue with me over the futility of the situation. So I nearly wept with relief when he returned my smile instead. “Did I ever mention that I own an apartment in Paris? In the seventh arrondissement, right near AUP. A very nice view of La Tour Eiffel.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shook his head. “Not kidding. Roomie,” he added with a grin.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Remember how we talked once about going on a graduation trip? You know, to Brompton Park. Your old house,” I added unnecessarily, as if he didn’t know.

“You really want to go there?”

“Definitely. Let’s all go. Cece and Sophie and Marissa. The guys too. I think we could all use a little vacation after . . . well . . .” I swallowed hard. I couldn’t say her name, couldn’t bear to bring it up again. “We can pool our money and rent out the house for a week. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” he said with a nod. “If it’ll make you happy.”

“Very happy. Here”—I reached for the mouse on his laptop—“go to the UK Trust website and look it up. Let’s see when it’s available.”

He quickly typed in a search and opened the page. I watched as he clicked through, opening up the calendar. My heart sank when I saw the red X’s. “Crap, it’s booked the week after graduation. But look, not the week after that.”

“You want to go talk to your friends? Have them ask their parents and check on airfare. Don’t worry about the house—I’ll have my agent in London make the arrangements.”

I eyed him dubiously. “Your agent in London? What does that even mean?”

“That you don’t have to worry about securing the house,” he answered with a laugh. “I’ll make some calls now.”

“Okay. I’m going to go see if I can catch everyone before dinner.” I leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “And thank you. This is going to be awesome.”