Authors: Kristi Cook
“Look at me, Aidan,” I called out, my voice deceptively calm as I moved toward him, holding my stake close.
Please, God, don’t make me have to use it.
I switched to telepathic mode.
You don’t want to hurt her,
I said.
You don’t want to hurt anybody.
Still clutching a whimpering Whitney, Aidan blinked several times, shaking his head, as if he were trying to rid it of my voice.
Aidan, please.
I took another tentative step in his direction.
Look at me—look into my eyes.
He did.
M
y gaze locked onto Aidan’s bloodred one, and suddenly all I could think about was driving my stake through his heart.
The urge was overwhelming, my fingers itching, the adrenaline surging through my veins like a drug.
No.
I forced it back, commanded myself to ignore it.
Not yet.
“Christ, Violet, why are you hesitating?” came Matthew’s panicked voice behind me.
I ignored him.
Just listen to me,
I commanded, my gaze never leaving Aidan’s.
I love you, with all my heart. You’re not yourself; you don’t know what you’re doing.
Violet?
His voice was weak, just a whisper in my mind. But it was there—I could hear it, I swore I could.
“Violet, you’ve got to do it,” Matthew shouted. “I know you don’t want to, that you—”
“I’ve got this, Matthew—just trust me,” I called out, refusing to turn around, to break the visual connection.
“Please, Violet,” Whitney whimpered. “Do something.”
Aidan, are you listening to me? You’re going to cure yourself, and we’re going to be together, always. But you’ve got to wake up from this; you’ve got to let her go.
Something weird was happening with his eyes. The red receded, then flooded back in again. Once, twice.
Aidan?
I prodded.
Come on, Aidan. Please. Just let her go.
He released Whitney then, just like that. She fell to the ground and scrabbled away, half running, half crawling. Matthew reached for her and pulled her back behind me.
“Are you okay?” I asked her. “Please tell me that you’re okay!”
She nodded vigorously, her eyes wide with shock. “I think so.”
“Thank God,” I mumbled.
“Go!” Matthew told her, his voice urgent. “Back to Violet’s apartment, okay? We’ll come for you as soon as we can. Can you find your way?”
She nodded, and I turned back toward Aidan as she dashed away to safety.
Aidan?
Violet?
He took a step toward me. Again, the red washed from his eyes, revealing the familiar blue-gray.
I’m here.
I shifted my stake into my left hand, and reached my empty one out toward him.
Take my hand
.
Come back to me.
“Violet, no!” came Matthew’s voice behind me. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Shh. It’s working.”
“
What’s
working? You’re not doing anything!”
“I’m talking to him in my head,” I said, still holding out my hand to Aidan, willing him to take it. “And it’s working; he’s listening.”
“You’re … what? How?”
I love you, Aidan.
Somehow it just seemed like the right thing to say, over and over again.
Wake up. Please?
This time he spoke aloud. “Violet?” He took my hand, clasping it tightly in his. The moment he did, his features slipped back to normal. The color returned to his eyes and stayed there; his fangs retracted. He blinked several times, shaking his head.
He was himself again, just like that.
“Oh, thank God,” I said. I unclenched my left fist, allowing the stake to clatter to the ground.
He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. “Dr. Byrne? What are you doing here? What’s going on?”
“You don’t remember?” I asked.
His gaze landed on the stake by my feet, his face a mask of confusion. “Violet, what … why?”
I swallowed hard, unable to speak. What was I going to tell him? Wordlessly, I turned toward Matthew.
He stepped up beside me. “You were attacking her friend, Aidan. You could have killed her.”
“I … what?” He looked as if Matthew had slapped him.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” he pressed. “C’mon, think back. How did you get here?”
Aidan’s brow furrowed in concentration. “I was at school, at the lab. I injected the serum. I’m so sorry, Violet,” he said quickly. “I know I promised I wouldn’t, and I meant to keep that promise. But, damn it, I was
so
sure this time, positive that I’d finally perfected it. I couldn’t wait another minute, not if it meant I could be with you over break without worrying about biting you again.”
Beside me, Matthew groaned. “Again? What does he mean, again?”
I ignored him, raising a hand to massage my now-throbbing temple. “Oh, Aidan,” I said with a sigh. “I really wish you hadn’t.”
“I took a blood sample afterward, to check,” he continued. “I knew then that I was wrong, that it hadn’t worked. Still, I felt fine. I needed to see you, to apologize for breaking my promise, to talk about”—he glanced over at Matthew, then shifted his gaze guiltily back to mine—“what happened in the loft. I had some things to do first, some notes to enter into the computer. I went home, just before nightfall, and then I set out for Patsy’s apartment. That’s the last thing I remember.”
Matthew glanced up at the inky sky. “Maybe it has something to do with night falling, then,” he speculated. “Maybe you’re fine during the day, but as soon as the sun goes down, something happens inside you? Like … Jekyll and Hyde.”
I shivered violently, suddenly cold. My hands were like ice, my cheeks numb.
“She’s freezing,” Matthew said, shaking his head. “We’ve got to get her inside.”
“M-Matthew,” I stuttered, my teeth chattering now. “C-can you call a c-cab or something? I’ve got to check on Whitney.”
“Whitney?” Aidan asked. “Your friend in Atlanta?”
“She was here,” Matthew explained. “She’s the one you attacked.”
“I … what?” He raked a hand through his hair. “Please tell me that I didn’t hurt her, that I didn’t—”
“You didn’t,” I said, shaking my head. “She’s fine.”
Matthew nodded. “She was luckier than that woman they found in the woods at Winterhaven.”
Aidan’s gaze snapped up at once. “You think that I … that I’m responsible for that woman’s death? That I’m the Stalker?”
“After seeing you tonight, Aidan, what else can I think? If Violet hadn’t been here, if she hadn’t managed to get through to you …” He shook his head. “Christ, I don’t even want to think about it.”
A shudder worked its way down my spine. Oh my God. Aidan had
killed
that woman. I clapped one hand over my mouth, afraid I might vomit.
“We’ve got to get her out of the cold.” Matthew wrapped his arms around my shoulders. He was warm,
so
warm. I leaned into him, my legs suddenly weak, my twisted ankle throbbing.
“I’ll go get a cab,” Aidan said, his voice flat and lifeless. “I’ll take Violet with me.”
Matthew tightened his grip on me. “Oh, no, you won’t.”
“It’s the fastest way,” Aidan argued, “and she’s clearly in no shape to walk.”
“There’s no way I’m leaving her alone with you.” His tone was firm, resolute. “Go, hail us a cab. We’ll meet you by the street.”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. When I opened them, Aidan was gone.
“You okay to walk?” Matthew released me, leaning down to retrieve my stake.
“I … yeah, I think so.” But as soon as I took a few steps, my ankle buckled. I winced, crying out in pain.
“You’re not okay,” he said, stepping in front of me and bending down. “Go on, hop on my back.”
I shook my head. “You’re crazy. You can’t carry me out of here like that.”
“Of course I can. Now hop on.”
With a groan, I followed his command. He straightened, hiking me up higher on his back, and then set off. I wrapped my arms around his neck, laying my cheek flat on his back, absorbing his heat.
We continued on in silence, past the tunnel, back down the winding walk that led to the park’s edge. I could hear the sounds of traffic now, a siren blaring in the distance, a horn honking.
When we reached the street, Aidan was there, standing beside a yellow cab. “I gave him a hundred to wait,” he called out, meeting us on the walk, “so there’s no rush.”
Matthew stopped, bending his knees so I could slide down. I bit my lip, trying not to cry out in pain as my right foot made contact with the ground.
“Aidan? Master Gray? Oh, thank God, I’m not too late.”
We all turned in unison to see Trevors move out of the darkness toward us.
“Trevors?” Aidan took a step toward him. “What are you doing here?”
Trevors looked from Aidan to me, and back to Aidan again. “Has anyone been harmed?”
“No, we’re fine,” I said. “Well, except my ankle.”
“What’s going on?” Aidan asked.
Trevors swallowed hard, indecision written all over his face.
“C’mon, Trevors,” Aidan pressed. “You’ve got to tell me why you’re here.”
“Perhaps later,” he hedged. “In private.”
“No, now. You can speak freely in front of them.” He tipped his head in our direction.
The elderly man nodded. “Very well. You came by the town house today and told me that you planned to go to Miss McKenna’s apartment this evening. But when you set out, I could see that you … well, that you were slipping away from yourself. I’ve seen it before; I know the signs. Normally I don’t interfere, but in this case it seemed prudent.”
He nodded in my direction before continuing. “So I called her and warned her, just to be safe. I’ve been trying to track you ever since, afraid I was too late.”
“What do you mean, you’ve seen it before?” Aidan asked.
Trevors shook his head. “You, in some sort of altered state. It’s as if you don’t see me, don’t see anyone except perhaps your prey.”
Aidan visibly flinched. “My prey?”
“They’re not my concern—you are,” Trevors said with a shrug. “And when you come home, disheveled and disoriented, it’s not my place to ask where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing. It’s my job to clean you up, to see to your care and comfort, that’s all.”
“What the hell?” Matthew shook his head. “Are you saying that you’ve known all along that he was the Stalker, and you’ve been covering for him?”
Trevors shot him a glare. “I had suspicions, nothing more. No proof. All I knew for certain was that if he
was
the one they were calling the Stalker, he had no idea, no memories of the attacks. I had to protect him.”
Holy hell.
This was a nightmare—an un-freaking-believable nightmare—and it just kept getting worse.
Aidan turned toward Matthew, his face seemingly blank now. “Can you see her safely home? Her stepmother’s out of town. You should stay with her tonight and make sure she and Whitney are okay.”
“What? No,” I protested. “Aren’t you coming with us?”
He shook his head, his eyes full of such sadness that I could barely stand to look at them. “I’m going back to Winterhaven. To Mrs. Girard. I’m turning myself in to the Tribunal, Violet.”
“No,” I cried, reaching for his arm. “Just … come home with me. You need to see Whitney, to see that she’s okay. And then … I don’t know, maybe we can figure out why this happened. It’s not your fault; you didn’t mean to hurt anyone. You can’t just turn yourself over to them.” Bile rose in my throat at the thought of what the Tribunal would do to him. “Not now, not till we can explain what happened and why.”
And there
would
have to be an explanation.
I took a deep, ragged breath. And then I remembered the vision I’d had—the one in the lab, the one that hadn’t made any sense to me. It had been so brief, just a quick series of images. I’d thought I’d seen Aidan using a dropper to take something from a vial and drop it into a test tube. It had been just a flash, my vantage showing me nothing more than a pair of hands and what they held.
I hadn’t really thought about it much, mostly because it had seemed so harmless at the time. I’d even considered the possibility that it hadn’t been a vision—that I’d simply breached Aidan’s mind and seen him working in the lab.
But now … now I realized there was another possibility. Maybe someone had tampered with his work, and I’d seen it happen. But who? It had to be someone who had access to the labs, someone who understood the science behind the work, and who had the means to effect whatever disastrous outcome they’d planned.
I looked over at Matthew—my protector. Could he possibly have done something so terrible, so cruel? Or Jack? Jack had changed this year, seemingly pulling away from all of us. Was
he
somehow capable of something like this? And then there was Tyler. Tyler, who didn’t much like Aidan, who always wanted to win. The Stalker’s attacks had only begun
after
Tyler’s arrival at Winterhaven. A coincidence?
“Violet?” Aidan said, drawing me from my thoughts. He reached for my face, cradling it with both his hands. “Look at me. I am so very sorry. For everything. For breaking my promise, for hurting you, for hurting your friend. I love you; I’ll always love you. Just remember that, okay? But I have to do this; I have to turn myself over to them. I always said I was a monster, didn’t I? Now you have proof.” His voice broke, and I looked away.
I couldn’t bear it, couldn’t stand to look at him while he told me good-bye. Because that’s what this was—a good-bye. God only knew what they were going to do him. According to Trevors, he’d gotten twenty years of confinement just for destroying a murderous vampire. This was so much worse—innocent people hurt, a woman killed, their rules flouted. He’d risked exposing the very existence of vampires, even if he hadn’t known he was doing any of it.
Whatever the penalty was, it would be harsh. I wouldn’t see him again, not in this lifetime.