Authors: Kristi Cook
He didn’t look convinced. “You actually want me to believe that he’s like some sort of superhero, keeping Gotham safe from dangerous criminals? Seriously?”
“Pretty much,” I agreed, realizing how dumb it sounded. Still, it was the truth. “It’s
not
Aidan, Tyler. I know that you don’t like him, that you somehow feel threatened by him or something—your stupid little macho ‘I always win’ thing and all. But you can’t pin this on him, and you’ve got to keep your mouth shut about him being a vampire. If you’re really my friend, if you care about me, you’ve got to trust me on this. Please?”
“Oh, so now you’re going to play the ‘if you care about me’ card? You can’t have it both ways, Violet.”
I shook my head, confused. “Just drop it, okay? If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll talk to him. I’ll … I don’t know … find proof that he wasn’t anywhere near Manhattan when the Stalker attacked.”
Was
he in Manhattan?
Crap.
Now he’d planted a seed of doubt in my mind. It was going to stay there, gnawing at my brain, until I looked into it.
“Please, Tyler? Just … give me till after the break, and I’ll show you proof. Until then, don’t say anything to anyone, okay?”
“What if someone else turns up dead? How am I supposed to live with myself, wondering if I could have stopped it? How can you?”
“Because I’m
that
sure Aidan doesn’t have anything to do with it, that’s how. And you should be too.”
“Just because you believe that?”
I clenched my hands into fists in frustration. “Look, I’ve got a better idea of where he’s been—and when—than anyone else does. I was probably
with
him when most of the attacks happened.”
“Okay, fine,” he said at last. “If you say so.”
I let my breath out in a rush. “Thank you, Tyler.”
Now I just had to prove to him how crazy his theory was, and fast.
Easy, right?
I
shoved aside the piece of paper I’d scribbled on—a list of the dates of the Stalker’s attacks—with a heavy heart. This did
not
look good.
Crap, crap, and double crap.
It
had
to be a coincidence.
“Hey, why so glum?” Cece asked. She was sitting on her bed, knitting, a hobby she’d picked up over Thanksgiving break.
Should I tell her?
A battle waged inside my head. Ultimately, the desire for reassurance won out. “Okay,” I said, “I know this is going to sound
really
crazy.”
“Uh-oh.” She froze, her two knitting needles pointing toward the ceiling. “Last time you started off like that, you ended up telling me that Aidan was a vampire. What is it this time? Someone’s a demon? A fallen angel? Oh no, it’s Tyler, isn’t it? I knew there was something weird with that guy.”
“Are you done?” I asked, reaching down to pick up the ball of pink yarn that had rolled off the bed and was sitting by her feet.
Her mouth curved into a smile as I set the yarn back beside her. “A demon, right? ’Cause that boy sure ain’t no angel.”
I shot her a glare. “Seriously, Cee.”
“Sorry. Go on.” With a flourish, she waved one of her needles in the air. “This is going to sound really crazy, but …”
“But yesterday Tyler dragged me off to the chapel to talk when we were supposed to be in fencing class.”
“Wait, you skipped a class? That
is
crazy. You never skip.”
“He’s been working in the lab with Aidan and finally managed to put two and two together,” I continued, ignoring her jests. “Anyway, now he’s convinced that Aidan is the Stalker.”
“He’s
what
?” she shrieked. Dropping the needles to the bed, she unfolded her legs and scooted to the edge of the mattress. “He actually thinks Aidan’s the one who attacked all those people in Manhattan? Who killed that lady?” She shook her head. “No way. Tyler must be smoking something, ’cause that’s totally whacked.”
“Tell me about it,” I said. Relief washed over me, her vehement denial bolstering my confidence. Tyler didn’t know what he was talking about; he didn’t know Aidan like we did.
“The thing is”—I glanced down at the list of dates and my courage plummeted—“I checked online to see when the attacks happened.” I paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “And one of them was the night before Aidan turned up down by the river. You know, when he got sick. And didn’t remember what happened the night before.”
“Coincidence,” Cece said with a shrug. “Has to be, right?”
“Right. Only …” I trailed off, shaking my head.
Cece’s brow furrowed. “Only what? You don’t really think he had anything to do with it? I mean, c’mon, this is Aidan we’re talking about. He’s one of the good guys. Even if he is … you know, a blood-sucking vampire. Wait, he really
does
suck blood, right?”
“Yeah, but he isn’t a murderer. Besides, he would never flout the rules the way the Stalker does, leaving visible bite marks and all that.”
“Well, there you have it,” she said with a shrug. “Told you.”
Oh, man … I was going to
kill
Tyler for putting this stupid idea into my head. “But on some of these dates—well,
all
of them, really—I’m not sure where Aidan was at the time. He wasn’t with me. And the last one, when the woman was killed? That happened over Thanksgiving break. He’d injected himself with the serum then.”
“Okay, so? I’m not following your logic here. What does the serum have to do with it?”
“It’s just that he’s had these really bad reactions to the serum, that’s all,” I said. “I wish I had a list of dates of when he injected it. I could compare
that
list to this one, and see if there’s any overlap.”
Cece shook her head. “Seriously, I’m still not following you.”
“I don’t know, Cee.” I threw my hands up in frustration. “I guess I was just hoping that I’d look at these dates and be able to say, ‘Nope, he was with me then. Couldn’t have been him.’ But I can’t.”
And then I saw it—the flicker of doubt that crossed her features. “Okay,” she conceded with a sigh. “I guess I can see how Tyler could leap to his crazy-ass conclusion. But you know what? I don’t believe it. These dates or whatever, it’s just a circumstantial evidence kind of thing, you know?”
I nodded.
“And even this whole serum thing—I mean, he’s injected it a lot this semester, hasn’t he?”
Again, I nodded.
“So statistically there’s a good chance that some of the dates are going to overlap anyway, right?”
“Right. God, I love you, Cee.” I hurried over to her and gave her a hug. “I knew you’d talk me down. So, what do we do now?”
She shook her head. “I dunno. Can you talk him out of injecting it for a little while? You know, like a control period?”
“That’s a great idea! Only”—I shook my head—“he’s not likely to agree to it. He thinks he’s
so
close to perfecting it. I swear, he’s in the lab working every spare minute these days. Matthew has really helped him with a breakthrough.”
Matthew. My
Megvéd.
“Okay, what’s going on in that head of yours, Violet? You just went ten shades of pale.”
“You want to hear more crazy?” I offered, deciding I might as well get it all out there.
So I told her about the whole
Megvéd
thing. Okay, technically, I read it to her, from the translated page.
She just sat there, blinking, absorbing it.
“And then a few days ago, when I had that vision that freaked me out? I had a vision where I saw myself kill Aidan.”
“Not again!” Cece shivered. “Please tell me there aren’t more Propagators on their way here.”
I shook my head. “No, it was nothing like last time. All I saw really was the two of us—just me and Aidan—and he was begging me to do something. The same old ‘you know how; it’s got to go through the heart’ crap. I was crying, telling him no, but eventually I felt myself raise my arm and bring it down, right on his chest.”
“Your stake?”
“I guess it was my stake. I wasn’t looking, but I felt something smooth in my hand. Anyway, it wasn’t much and I didn’t really get any details, so I went to see Matthew, to have him talk me through a replay.”
“Yeah? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about the vision, by the way. I mean, I can understand that you didn’t want to alarm everyone else, but still.”
“I was going to tell you, I swear. You know, after I replayed it. But anyway, Matthew somehow talked me into telling him about the vision, and then he was all like, ‘Oh, don’t worry about. It’s your destiny.’ So I totally freaked.”
“He knew? About the
Sâbbat
stuff?”
I nodded. “And then he started rolling up his sleeve. Remember that tattoo I told you about? The dagger with the
M
?”
Her eyes grew as wide as saucers, her mouth forming an O of surprise. “No. Freaking. Way.”
“Yup. Claims he’s a
Megvéd
, and I guess that means he’s mine, since as far as I know there aren’t any other
Sâbbats
around here.”
“Well, what else did he say?” she prodded, looking dumbstruck.
“Nothing,” I said with a shrug. “I didn’t stick around long enough for him to tell me anything else. I basically ran to the bathroom and puked, and I haven’t spoken with him since.”
“Wow. This is just un-freaking-believable. You and Dr. Hottie—”
“There is
no
me and Dr. Hottie,” I interrupted. “Let’s get that straight—I don’t care what the stupid legend says.” I dropped my head, cradling it with my hands.
Just as I suspected. If Cece’s thoughts went right to that creepy “mate” thing, then Aidan’s definitely would too. And how would he react to Matthew as the “mate” in question?
Probably not as well as Cece did,
I thought, waiting for her to break out into a rousing chorus of “Sitting in a Tree.”
“I wish I wasn’t going to New Orleans for break,” she said, glancing over at the calendar on the wall. “I feel so bad leaving you to deal with all this. You really should talk to Matthew—Dr. Byrne, I mean. Whatever! Seriously,” she added in response to my glare. “’Cause if what that book said is true, it’s kind of his job to look out for you, right?”
“Maybe,” I hedged.
“Just think about it, okay?” She stood and stretched, reaching her hands up toward the ceiling. “Man, I’m stiff. You want to go get some coffee? I don’t know about you, but I’ve got to study.”
“Yeah, me too. Coffee sounds good; it’s going to be a long night.” A long week and a half, actually.
And then … break.
Till then, I only had to win the fencing tournament, ace my finals, prevent my stepmother from getting a fatal bee sting, deal with Tyler’s insistence that my boyfriend was the murderous Stalker, and … oh, yeah, face the possibility that one of my teachers was somehow fated to be my protector and mate.
Yeah, should be fun.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Aidan said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. His lips found my neck, and I shuddered.
Stupid Tyler.
I looked into my mail cubby. Empty. I wasn’t even sure why I bothered checking anymore. “Just busy studying for finals, that’s all. Besides, you barely left the lab all weekend.” I turned to face him. “How’d it go?”
“Really well, even though your little friend ditched us. What’s up with him? I swear, every time I see the little punk he looks like he wants to run me through. More so than before, I should say.”
If he only knew the half of it.
“He figured out what you’re working on. I guess he doesn’t much like vampires. Especially when there’s a murderer running around here that they’re calling the Vampire Stalker.”
“Oh, I see. It figures he’d think me capable of something like that. Maybe he’ll report me to Mrs. Girard,” he mused. “That should be interesting. What are you doing after dinner?”
“The usual—staying in.” It’s not like we had much choice anymore. Gone were the days of hanging out with friends at the café and laughing over coffee after the sun had set. Anyway, finals started tomorrow and I had some last-minute cramming to do after my usual Sunday night phone calls to Patsy and Gran.
“Do you need any help with calculus?”
I shook my head. “Nah, Sophie’s been working with me. I’m more worried about the French exam.”
“Then let’s work on it,” he offered. Because he spoke French fluently, of course. “Here, after dinner.”
“Not till after study hour is over and the underclassmen vacate. Oh, and Cece, too; I promised her we’d study together.”
“Of course. I’ll quiz you both.” He looked around the mostly empty lounge. “Where is everybody now?”
“I don’t know—at the movie, maybe? Marissa’s probably somewhere with Max. I had practice all day, so I haven’t seen anyone since breakfast.”
“Except for Tyler, of course.” A note of jealousy had crept into his voice.
“Yeah, except for him,” I muttered. “I can’t get away from him.”
“Why do I get the feeling that he’s just skulking around, waiting for me to screw up?” he asked, his jaw tense. “And when I do, he’s going to swoop in and make his move.”
“I don’t know, but I kind of like it when you get all jealous like this. It’s just so … human.”
The effects of the serum, he claimed. It hadn’t cured him, not yet, but it made him as close to human as he’d been in a century. Which was evidence that he wasn’t the Stalker, as far as I was concerned. Maybe last year—when he’d go all vampiric on me while we were making out—maybe then I could have made the mental leap to Aidan-the-potential-killer. But not now, not when he seemed like a normal, human guy, for the most part. Now, it was impossible to believe.
Which is why I let him draw me close and kiss me this time.
“If a teacher comes in and sees us, we’re busted,” I murmured, drawing away. After all, there
were
some pretty strict PDA rules at Winterhaven, despite its progressivism.
“Then let’s go somewhere we can be alone.”
Oh, how I wanted to. I glanced down at my watch and reluctantly shook my head. “I can’t. Not now; I’m supposed to meet everyone for dinner in fifteen minutes.”