27 ~ The End of the Road

I glanced up from the pile of notes in my lap when Cece walked into the room, looking exhausted. “Are you finished?” I asked as she collapsed onto her bed with a groan.

“Yep, done. Finally. What about you? Just that one final left?”

“Yeah, first thing tomorrow morning. I’m going to be cramming all night long. You might want to go stay with Marissa.”

“Nah, I’ll keep you company. I can sleep all day tomorrow. Well, that and start packing.”

“Don’t even say it!” It was only a matter of days before graduation, before we all packed up and left Winterhaven for good. Just thinking about it made me feel sick to my stomach. “Anyway, how’d you do?”

“Fine, I guess. The essay question kicked my butt. I’m just so glad it’s over.”

“Hey, don’t rub it in.” Beside me, my cell began to ring. “Ugh, it’s Patsy. Probably calling to tell me she’s not coming to graduation, after all,” I said sourly, then connected the call. “Hey, there. What’s up?”

“Just calling to see how finals are going,” she chirped.

“Really well. I’ve got my English test tomorrow, and then I’m done.”

“What about the calculus test you were so worried about?”

“I think I aced it, thanks to Aidan.” He’d quizzed me relentlessly, until I could work every problem backward, forward, and sideways. “My history paper’s turned in, and we got an A on our final art history project, so it’s looking pretty good.”

“I knew you’d do just fine,” Patsy said. “Listen, I know I said we’d be there Friday night for graduation, but something’s come up at work.”

Of course it had. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Really.”

“But you’ll be in New York next week, right? Before you leave for London? We’ll get to see you then.”

“Sure,” I said. “But look, I’m probably going to stay at Aidan’s when I’m there in the city, okay?” Since it was my place now, technically speaking. Of course, Patsy didn’t know that, but still. It occurred to me that, at some point, I was probably going to have to tell her. Then again, maybe not. Not with her halfway around the world in Australia.

“But we’ll get together for dinner or something, right? We’ll take you both out somewhere nice to celebrate your graduation.”

She was making this way too easy.

“That sounds good. Actually, I better get back to studying now.”

“Okay, sweetie. Good luck. And I’ll be thinking about you Friday night. Paul too. He sends his love.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Talk to you later.”

I ended the call and set down my phone with a sigh.

“She’s not coming?” Cece asked.

“Nope. Big surprise, right?” Still, I was disappointed. There wouldn’t be a single person there to cheer for me when I walked across that stage and took my diploma. How pathetic was that? Aidan and I were lucky that we had each other, since neither of us had anyone else.

“I just don’t get that woman,” Cece said, shaking her head.

“Yeah, me either. It doesn’t matter, though. I just wish Gran could come.” She’d wanted to, and I’d had several long talks with Melanie, her home health aide, debating it. Melanie had finally spoken with Gran’s doctor, who had failed to give his support, and that had been that. Gran wasn’t happy, but I’d promised to come visit them in Atlanta before I went to Paris.

“Well, my grandma’s coming up from New Orleans, and all the aunts and uncles and cousins too. It’s going to be a zoo. I won’t have any time to hang out with you guys while they’re here. Which is annoying, because it is our last weekend.”

“Yeah, but it’s not good-bye, remember? Just a week, and then we’ll be in England together.”

“I can’t wait,” Cece said. “I wish Aidan would let us all chip in on the house, though.”

I shook my head. “He says it’s taken care of. The Trust people know he’s a relative of the original family, so . . . I don’t know. Maybe they worked out a deal or something. I think we’re getting to use rooms that aren’t usually open to the public. Something like that.”

“That’s so cool. Just imagine if they knew the truth—the prodigal son, returned. A freaking century later. Anyway, what about Dr. Byrne?”

“What about him?” I asked.

“I assume he’s going with us, right?”

I nodded. “Looks that way. I’m sure Charlie is thrilled.”

“I actually feel kind of bad for her. I mean, it’s probably hard to understand this thing between you and Dr. Byrne if you’re not a part of it, you know? And then you’ve got to add in the fact that he’s a teacher and you’re a student and, well . . . it must be weird for her. That’s all I’m saying.”

“See, that’s why you’re so popular,” I said, shaking my head in amazement. “You can always see things from other people’s perspectives. What do they call it? Empathy?”

“Hey, you gotta feel for the chick,” she said with a shrug.

“Trust me, I do. I swear I do. It’s just . . . I think she really hates me.” I winced, remembering the cold look in her eyes when we’d met.

Cece gave me a pointed look—lips pursed, one brow raised. “Wouldn’t you hate you? In her position, I mean?”

“Heck, yeah. Of course I would. That doesn’t make it any more pleasant, though.” I glanced down at the notes surrounding me, a painful reminder of my upcoming final. “I really should be studying.”

She nodded, rising and reaching for her bag. “Okay, I’m supposed to meet Josh at the café, anyway. You want me to bring you back anything?”

“Yes, something sweet. That, and a mocha. Actually, make it a peppermint mocha.” The peppermint would help soothe my pretest nerves.

Cece’s face lit with a smile. “You got it, girlfriend.”

I sighed heavily as the door shut behind her. Just one more final—I could do this. After all, I was a tough, vampire-slaying, tattooed, going-off-to-live-in-Paris kind of girl. What was a measly English final in the face of all that?

With a groan, I got back to work.

* * *

Friday night came all too fast. The past few days had been a blur—checking grades, packing trunks, waiting for the end to come.

And now it had. I shifted uncomfortably on the hard pew, waiting for my name to be called.

Sophie’s valedictory speech had been brief but inspiring, the perfect combination of serious but funny. How was I going to make it through each day of class at AUP without her there beside me?

As student body president, Cece had made a speech too. All those New Orleans cousins and aunts and uncles had hooted and hollered when she was finished, making her blush, and all I could think was how awesome she was—the perfect roommate. Fate had been so kind to me.

And Aidan, well . . . when I’d seen him walk across the little stage erected at the front of the chapel and take his diploma from a smiling Mrs. Girard, it had seemed so real. Like somehow all the schooling he’d received before now was meaningless—that this graduation was the one that really counted, that marked the true beginning of the rest of his life.

The rest of them who’d been called up before me alphabetically—Max, Tyler, Cece, even Jack—seemed so distant now, somehow just out of reach. I felt numb, disengaged—

“Miss Violet McKenna.”

It took me a second to recognize my own name. Beside me, Shannon McKenzie nudged me in the ribs. I rose, making my way to the end of the pew vaguely aware of the sound of cheering and whistling behind me, where the parents and family were seated. I glanced back, surprised to see Patsy and Paul on their feet, smiling in my direction.

What the heck?

“Congratulations, chérie,” Mrs. Girard said, handing me my diploma with a smile. How easily she slipped into the role of cheerful headmistress, I realized, taking the leather case and tucking it beneath my arm as I made my way back to my seat.

The procession continued on—Joshua, then Marissa a few minutes later. I clapped for them all, trying not to notice the empty spot between the R ’s and the T ’s where Kate Spencer should have been. Finally, they called out Amy Zuckerman’s name, and then the microphone fell silent.

The chapel’s pipe organ began to play the alma mater, and at last we tossed our caps into the air with a flourish. And then it was over. High school was done, a chapter in my life complete.

Aidan found me even before I’d made my way out into the crowded aisle. “I didn’t think Patsy was coming,” he said, taking my hand.

“I didn’t either.” I shook my head, feeling a little dazed as I followed him out of the chapel and onto the lawn, where a brightly lit reception tent had been set up. The trees surrounding the lawn were strung with twinkle lights, and paper lanterns lit the path. The sky was clear, the air surprisingly balmy for early June in the Hudson Valley—a perfect night to celebrate under the stars.

“There she is!” came Patsy’s voice, just behind me. I turned to find her there, smiling broadly. “Look at you,” she said, wrapping me in a hug. “You look so grown up. Your father would be so proud of you right now.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I said. “You said you weren’t coming.”

“I wasn’t sure we could make it, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed. And then when I found out we could come . . . well, I wanted to surprise you.” She held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers dramatically.

Immediately I noticed the gold band on her ring finger. “What? When?”

“This past weekend. Nothing big, just at City Hall. We’ll have a reception once we get to Sydney.”

“Wow,” was all I could manage.

“Congratulations,” Aidan said, mercifully stepping in and offering his hand. Patsy took it and then pulled him into an awkward hug. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Oh, Paul, this is Aidan Gray. Aidan, this is my husband, Paul Layton. My second husband. Current.” She was babbling incoherently now, obviously caught in the web of the Aidan Effect.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat?” I asked, trying to distract her. “I think they’re serving dessert.”

“Sounds good,” Paul said. “Lead on.”

Minutes later, we got our plates of cookies and assorted pastries and found a table, while Paul went off to fetch drinks.

Before I sat, I unzipped my lavender graduation gown and stepped out of it, revealing the simple white sundress I wore beneath. Aidan had already removed his own gown—silver for boys—and wore rumpled khakis and a plain white button-down shirt with a deep violet-colored tie.

“Don’t know how to work an iron, I see,” I quipped, reaching over to straighten his tie.

“Who has an iron at boarding school?” he asked with a chuckle, leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose.

I wasn’t going to admit that I did—it was just one of my many neuroses. Cece always teased me about it, especially the time she caught me ironing a stack of underwear.

“You’re not having anything, Aidan?” Patsy asked as soon as we sat, noticing the blank spot where his plate should be.

“No, I’m not hungry. Big dinner,” he lied, patting his stomach.

I reached across the table for a napkin, and Patsy laid a hand on my wrist, trapping my hand against the table. “Wait, what’s this new ring you’re wearing?” She glanced from me to Aidan and back to me again. “Is there something the two of you need to tell me?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s just a gift. You know, like a . . . umm . . .”

Help me out here, I pleaded telepathically.

“I think they call it a promise ring,” Aidan supplied.

Thank you.

“It’s pretty,” Patsy said, lifting my hand to examine it more closely. “It looks like an antique—a really precious piece, actually.”

I gave Aidan a desperate look.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I found it at one of those antique stores. You know, the junky kind. I thought it suited her.”

“Well, you have a good eye. I bet some poor soul had to pawn it for cash and the store didn’t quite realize what they had. I think that happens a lot these days.”

“Yeah, probably,” I murmured. “Oh, look, here comes Paul with the drinks.” Thank God.

Just as he slid back into his seat, Mrs. Girard appeared at our table. “Mr. Gray, if you don’t mind, I need a quick word with you.”

Just like that, his eyes seemed to shift from blue to a stormy gray, his mouth set in a hard line. “Of course. If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

I watched him go, my mouth suddenly dry. I reached for the iced tea Paul had set in front of me, nearly draining the glass in a single gulp.

“Wasn’t that the headmistress?” Patsy asked.

I just nodded, a knot of fear forming in the pit of my stomach.

“You don’t think he’s in trouble or anything, do you?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said, forcing myself to smile brightly. “Go on, eat. You don’t have to wait.”

As Patsy bit into a pastry, I watched Aidan follow Mrs. Girard to the edge of the lawn, right to the spot where I’d slain Julius, I realized with a shudder. Luc joined them, his dark hair gleaming under the bright moonlight.

I couldn’t make out what they were saying—they were much too far away for that. They gave away nothing with their body language either. All three stood stock still while they talked, their bodies rigid. My anxiety soared with each passing minute, and I found myself looking around for Matthew.

He was nowhere to be seen.

Luckily, Patsy and Paul had lapsed back into conversation while they ate, oblivious to my growing discomfort. I decided to give it another minute or two, and then I was going to have to go find Matthew. I wasn’t quite sure why, but something about this felt off, and I didn’t even have my stake with me.

“So, are y’all staying in Tarrytown tonight?” I asked Patsy, mostly to distract myself.

She shook her head. “No. I wish we could, but we’ve just got so much to do to get ready for the move, right, Paul?”

He just nodded.

“Actually”—she glanced down at her watch, the one my father had given her so many years ago—“as soon as we’re done eating, we should probably head back. I hope you don’t mind.”

A wave of relief washed over me. “No. It’s fine. I’ve still got a lot of packing and people to say good-bye to.”

“Do you want me to send a car for you on Sunday?”

“No. I’m pretty sure Aidan’s already ordered a car,” I said, drumming my fingers on the table. Truthfully, I had no idea if he had or not. But now I would make sure that he did. Or maybe Matthew could give us a ride. It didn’t matter—we’d figure it out later.

“Hey,” came Aidan’s voice behind me, nearly making me jump out of my skin. He moved to stand behind me, both hands resting on my shoulders as he leaned down toward my ear. “Can I talk to you for a second? It’s nothing,” he directed at Patsy and Paul. “I’ll bring her right back. I promise.”

They nodded in unison, looking a little woozy. Clearly, Aidan had used one of his mind manipulation tricks on them.

Without another word, I rose and followed him back inside the empty chapel.

“What’s going on?” I asked as soon as we stepped out of the vestibule. I didn’t like the look on his face—his eyes had taken on that empty look, his jaw clenched tightly.

“We’ve got to go,” he said without preamble.

My heart began to race, my palms dampening. “What do you mean, go? Go where?”

“Paris. Pretty much right away. They’re gathering for a fight, and they need their Dauphin.”

“Who’s gathering for a fight?” I asked, confused.

“The Propagators. They’re all headed to the Tribunal headquarters, prepared to seize power. To put one of their own in the Eldest’s seat.”

I clenched my hands into fists of frustration. “I don’t understand. Why now?”

“I don’t know. I thought we’d have more time.”

I took a deep, calming breath. “Okay, so we go. We get this over with, whatever it is. Bu-but what about England?” I stammered, my resolve weakening. “We’re supposed to go the week after next.”

A muscle in Aidan’s jaw was working furiously. “You’ll get your trip to England. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Well, what am I supposed to tell Patsy?” I asked, floundering now. “And Matthew. I’ve got to tell Matthew. He’s got to come too. I need him.”

“We’ve got an hour, tops. Nicole has the plane waiting at a private airport nearby. Leave your trunks and just gather whatever you need for a few days, okay, Vi? I’ll find Dr. Byrne and tell him what’s going on. It’s his choice if he wants to come with us or not.”

“Okay,” I said numbly. “I’ll go tell Patsy I’m not feeling well. Or—or that you’re not feeling well, and I’m taking you to the infirmary. And then I’ll just be in my room, changing and getting my stuff ready.”

He nodded, reaching for my shoulders, his fingers digging sharply into my bare skin. “I’ll meet you in your room as soon as I can. I never should have gotten you into this, Violet. I am so very sorry.”

The stark desolation in his gaze was sobering. He thought this was it for us—the end of the road. But it wasn’t; it wouldn’t be. Not if I had anything to do with it. “You can’t protect me from this, Aidan. It’s what I’m meant to do. What you’re meant to do. It’ll work out; it’s all going to work out,” I said calmly, assuredly.

Only, I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince more . . . him or me.

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