Mirage, Page 2

  Increasing my pace, I made a sharp right turn and hurried down the corridor till I came to the last set of doors on the right. I stepped into the auditorium, scanning the crowd for my friends. I saw them near the back, a row of familiar heads all bent toward each other in conversation. As if she sensed my presence, Cece turned. Spying me just inside the door, she waved me over.

  A slow smile spread across my face. Aidan or no, it was awfully good to be back home at the ’Haven.

  2 ~ England and Scotland and France, Oh My!

  Hey, the Sorbonne is on this list!” Kate exclaimed, plopping down on the little loveseat next to Sophie.

  I glanced down at the sheet of paper I held in my hands. “Yeah, there’s a couple of schools in France listed. England and Scotland, too.”

  Kate kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her. “Cool. Can you even imagine going to school in Europe?”

  Marissa perched on the edge of my bed beside me. “Nope. My parents would never let me.”

  “Yeah, mine either,” Sophie agreed glumly. “But hey, at least they’ve got most of the Ivies covered. Harvard, Princeton, Brown, Columbia, Dartmouth, Cornell. No Yale or Penn, though. Interesting.”

  I flipped the page over and scanned the back. “I’m surprised there’s so many.” The two-page sheet included all major universities with faculty members who were “sympathetic to our situation,” as they’d termed it in the senior meeting. An asterisk by the school’s name meant a significant psychically gifted population. A cross meant psychically gifted faculty members on the admissions committee. Schools with both an asterisk and a cross would be a best-case scenario. Still, Dr. Ackerman, the senior adviser, reminded us that we were free to apply anywhere we chose. The list was just a helpful guide, she said.

  I was kind of leaning toward Columbia or maybe NYU—both on the list—thinking I’d like to stay in New York City, close to Aidan. I was hoping to convince him to apply too, though I knew that if he hadn’t gotten any closer to finding his cure, he’d think it was pointless.

  Still, I harbored this crazy little vision of the two of us living cozily together in Aidan’s town house on the Upper East Side while studying at Columbia. Of course, my step-mom, Patsy, would never in a million years allow it—but still.

  Once the happy glow of the daydream wore off and I was faced with reality, I had no idea what our future together held. If Aidan didn’t find his cure, he would remain a perpetual boy—like Peter Pan—while I’d continue to age, to mature into an adult. I knew he’d never stick around if that were the case. Or worse, he’d try to convince me to destroy him. I didn’t want it to come to that. Ever.

  “Well, we don’t have much time left to decide, do we?” Kate said, then let out a sigh. “I wish we could just freeze time and stay here at Winterhaven forever.”

  “Me too,” I murmured. That way, I’d never have to worry about the future—about my developing Sâbbat tendencies or anything like that.

  “Anyway,” Kate continued, setting aside the list, “did the rest of you see how fast Jenna got out of there when the meeting ended? I was trying to get her attention, but she totally blew me off.”

  Sophie nodded. “Yeah, she definitely doesn’t want to talk to us. I don’t get it—it’s not like we’re going to spill her secret. I mean, c’mon. If it wasn’t for her …” She allowed that thought to trail off, and we were all silent. I’m sure we were all picturing it—that bloody scene beside the chapel where we’d fought Julius, the rogue vampire who’d tried to force me to kill Aidan.

  “She’s got to talk to us at some point,” Marissa said. “You don’t just save someone’s life”—she swallowed hard—“and then refuse to tell them why you did it.”

  Because it had been Marissa’s lifeblood staining the grass when Jenna had appeared in wolf form and started ripping out the vampire’s throat. It had been that action that had set off a new chain of events, events I hadn’t foreseen in my gruesome vision. Jenna’s unexpected appearance had been the catalyst, the turning point that had allowed us to change what I’d seen. Because of her we’d won and Aidan was still alive.

  Finally Marissa spoke again. “Hey, where’s Cece?”

  “Student council meeting,” I said, my voice thick now. “Declaring her candidacy for senior class president. She thinks Stacy Dalton is going to run against her.”

  Kate raised her brows. “That should be interesting. I guess Stacy’ll lock in all the clairsentient votes.”

  “Except for mine,” Sophie put in cheerfully.

  “Well, we’ve got the tellies,” Kate said. The telekinetics, she meant. “More of us.”

  “And I assume the shifters are in too, thanks to Joshua,” Sophie added. “Which way do you think the empaths will go?” she asked Marissa.

  Marissa shrugged. “Dunno. Either way, I guess.”

  It still amazed me the way kids grouped into cliques according to their psychic abilities. As far as I could tell, my group of mixed-ability friends was the exception rather than the rule. And what a diverse bunch we were, especially when you counted a vampire in the mix.

  I glanced down at my watch, willing away the hours till tomorrow. When I looked up again, Marissa was watching me closely, her brow furrowed in concentration.

  “What?” I asked her.

  “Just trying to figure out if you’re counting down the hours till you see Aidan again or until your first training session with Dr. Hottie.”

  I shot her a scowl. “Ha-ha. Very funny. What do you think?”

  “I just can’t believe your luck. I mean, c’mon. Why couldn’t he have been an empath? You’ve got a boyfriend.”

  “You do realize he’s a teacher, don’t you?” Sophie asked. “First off, that’s, like, totally illegal. And even if it wasn’t … ewww.”

  Marissa looked mortally offended. “What do you mean, ewww? You were drooling over him last year, just like the rest of us.”

  “Yeah, well.” Sophie’s cheeks pinkened. “Still. He is a teacher. It’s one thing to lust after him in secret, but he’s definitely not boyfriend material.”

  “Well, duh. Thanks for enlightening me.”

  I was happy to see that Marissa hadn’t changed much, despite her near-death experience.

  “Okay, Marissa, take it down a notch,” Kate said. “You’re starting to suck all the happy out of the room.”

  Marissa’s emotional state could affect us all. It apparently worked in reverse, too. Pretty interesting, but sometimes it could be a drag.

  “Sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound it. Still, I felt the tension in the air dissipate. “Hey, did anyone notice the new guy? Brown-haired surfer dude sitting in the front row during the senior meeting?”

  Sophie nodded. “Yes! Transfer student from Summer-haven. I heard his name is Tyler something or other.”

  I’d only recently learned that Summerhaven was our “sister school” in California—in Malibu, right on the coast. Turns out there’s an entire network of schools like ours scattered across the country.

  “Poor guy, transferring his senior year,” I said. “That’s gotta suck.”

  Kate shrugged. “I dunno. Did you get a good look at him? People will be falling all over each other trying to cozy up to him.”

  “Yeah, the really shallow people,” Marissa said with a scowl.

  “I prefer the term ‘aesthetically inclined,’ if you don’t mind.” Kate stuck her tongue out at Marissa before continuing. “Anyway, since he’s coming from Summerhaven, he knows exactly what’s going on here. It’s not like you last year, Violet.”

  I winced, remembering my first day. To say that I had been caught completely off guard by Winterhaven’s secrets would be a gross understatement. At first I’d thought they were lying to me. Then, once I realized they were telling the truth, I’d cried like a baby. I’d kinda hoped they’d forgotten—I know I wish I had.

  “I should finish unpacking,” I said, tilting my head toward the open duffel bag in the ro
om’s corner, the contents spilling out haphazardly.

  Kate rose with a yawn, stretching her arms toward the ceiling. “Yeah, I’m supposed to meet up with Jack in a little bit, anyway.”

  “Will you tell Cece to call me when she gets in?” Marissa asked, getting up from the bed and moving toward the door. “I want to make sure we’re signed up for the same English section.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Soph, you’ve got third period with Ackerman too, don’t you?”

  Sophie nodded. “Yep. Looks like we’re starting with the gothic novel, then doing the romantics second semester. Fun, huh?”

  “Maybe we’ll read Bram Stoker’s Dracula,” I said, raising my brows for emphasis.

  Sophie laughed. “Now, wouldn’t that be ironic? You think Ackerman knows?”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea who knows what anymore.”

  “Yeah, it seems weird around here without Dr. Blackwell, doesn’t it? Sometimes I almost forget … well …” Sophie trailed off with a shrug. She didn’t need to finish the sentence; we all knew exactly what she meant.

  Dr. Blackwell had been Winterhaven’s headmaster, and we’d all been involved in the events that had led to his demise. But it had been Mrs. Girard, together with the vampire Tribunal, who’d ultimately destroyed him. I didn’t know the details—didn’t want to know them. All that mattered was that he’d betrayed Aidan and paid the price.

  “Anyway,” Sophie continued, “see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, later,” Kate called out, opening the door—without using her hands, of course—and stepping out into the hall, Sophie and Marissa following behind.

  “Hey, you awake?” Cece whispered as she tiptoed across the floor toward her dresser.

  “Yeah,” I said, rubbing my eyes as I sat up. “You can turn on the overhead light.”

  “Nah, I’m fine,” she answered, rummaging around in her drawers. “Sorry I’m so late. Todd and I were having the ‘maybe we should see other people’ talk, and time just got away from me.”

  “Uh-oh. How’d it go?” I propped my pillows behind my head, watching Cece as she pulled out an old, ratty T-shirt and boxers, her usual sleep attire.

  “A lot better than I expected.” She headed into the closet, where she stripped off her clothes and deposited them into her hamper. “Sounds like he was having some doubts too,” she called out, her voice muffled as she pulled the T-shirt over her head. “I mean, being apart all summer really gives you some perspective, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I missed Aidan like crazy. That was the perspective I’d gained over the summer.

  Cece strode back in and started gathering up toiletries. “I bet you do. Speaking of which, when is Aidan planning on gracing us with his vampiric presence?”

  “Tomorrow around lunchtime,” I answered, butterflies fluttering in my stomach at the mention of his name.

  “Ah, now I get it.” There was a wicked twinkle in Cece’s dark eyes. “Why you’re in bed way before curfew, I mean. The faster you fall asleep, the faster tomorrow comes, right?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh—she knew me so well. “I swear it feels like Christmas Eve. I’ve just been lying here, staring at the ceiling.”

  “Awww, that’s so cute,” Cece teased, sliding on her bunny slippers before heading toward the door. “I’m going to wash my face. Be right back.”

  “Okay. But when you get back, you’ve got to give me the play-by-play of your talk with Todd.”

  “Deal,” she said.

  “Oh, and Marissa wants you to call her!” I shouted toward Cece’s back just as the door slammed shut.

  With a yawn, I reached for the clock radio beside my bed and flipped on the switch. Clearly the station dial had been moved in transit, and some weird new-age music droned out. Actually, it wasn’t too bad, I decided. It reminded me of the time that Patsy had taken me to a spa in Buckhead for a massage and facial—a girls’ day out, she’d called it. The music was supposed to be relaxing, and I guess it was, considering how heavy my eyelids suddenly felt.

  Breathing deeply, I closed my eyes. My limbs felt weightless, somehow disconnected from my body, as I allowed the music to wash over me, soothing me.

  An elevator. Glass panels and shiny, dark wood. It was the elevator in Patsy’s building, I realized. Someone was pushing the L button, stabbing it repeatedly—a girl wearing a pink sweater and jeans, her nails painted a metallic blue. I could hear her breathing loudly, nearly panting. She turned, looking around wildly, her pale blond hair slipping from a ponytail. Whitney! I could sense her fear. The elevator pinged, and the doors slid open. Whitney ran out, stumbling through the lobby, past the doorman’s empty desk and out through the building’s double doors. It was nighttime. Whitney looked back over her shoulder, as if she were trying to see if anyone was following her, and then she took off running.

  Soon she was darting into Central Park, where the trees were bare, the grass a dull, brittle brown. She headed toward a covered tunnel lit with a yellowish light, but then veered off, down a narrow footpath to the left. And then someone popped into my vision directly behind her, as if he’d simply materialized there out of thin air. I saw Whitney turn, saw her eyes widen when she saw him there behind her.

  “No!” she cried out. I saw him then—Aidan. I saw the way he looked at her, his eyes rimmed in red and full of bloodlust. He reached for her just as she tripped, falling to her knees on the path with a look of pure terror on her face.

  I sat up with a gasp, my fingernails digging into the mattress. I blinked several times, trying to get my bearings, fighting off the hysteria that was bubbling up inside me.

  Oh. My. God. There was no mistaking what I’d just seen—Aidan was going after Whitney, fully intending to … to … attack her.

  Only it didn’t make sense; none of it made any sense. What was Whitney doing in New York, at Patsy’s apartment? And more important, what was wrong with Aidan? Because something would have to be seriously wrong with him if this was going to occur. He didn’t hunt innocents, didn’t feed from people who weren’t evil to the core. And Whitney was not evil. In fact, she was about as far from evil as they came.

  What the hell?

  I shook my head, attempting to clear it, to rid my brain of those awful images. Was it possible that I’d just fallen asleep and dreamed it? Just before the vision, my eyelids had felt heavy. The spa music had definitely made me sleepy. That had to be it—I’d dozed off and had a weird dream, maybe even a dream masquerading as a vision. That made way more sense.

  Besides, I hadn’t experienced my usual prevision aura—my sight hadn’t tunneled, my ears hadn’t buzzed. There hadn’t been any warning signs at all. One minute I was lying there, all relaxed and sleepy, and the next minute the images had appeared in my mind.

  The door opened and Cece shuffled in, setting down her toiletries on her desk. As soon as she looked in my direction, her eyes went wide. “Uh-oh, you’ve got that look. A vision?”

  “No, a dream. A nightmare,” I corrected, praying it was the truth.

  “Whew.” Cece’s eyes narrowed. “You look terrified, though. You okay?”

  I licked my lips before I could reply. “Yeah, I … I guess so. It’s just that I fell asleep for a second there, and when I woke up I thought maybe it had been a vision, but …” I trailed off, shaking my head, still trying to clear it. “But I was definitely asleep,” I said, more to convince myself than Cece.

  Because my visions didn’t work that way—they never happened when I was lying in bed, relaxing, floating off to sleep. No, they were way more inconvenient than that. I’d never had a dream that I mistook for a vision, or the other way around. Maybe because I wasn’t prone to nightmares? And why should I be, when I saw horrific enough things while wide awake?

  The memory of my father’s kidnapping and murder came flooding back, and a shudder racked my body. Hot tears burned behind my eyelids, and I blinked them away. I’d never be able to banish those images—ever. They’d conti
nue to haunt me the rest of my life, no matter how hard I tried to erase them from my mind. I mean, how could a nightmare possibly compete with that?

  It couldn’t, I realized. Not even the one I’d just had.

  “You want to talk about it?” Cece offered, climbing into her own bed and turning onto her side to face me.

  I shook my head. “Definitely not. Anyway, you promised to tell me about the breakup.”

  “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”

  With that, I pushed aside all thoughts of the dream—the nightmare—and concentrated on Cece’s voice instead.

  3 ~ Love Bites

  I was walking across campus to fencing practice when I first felt it—that familiar little buzzing in my head. And then Aidan’s voice, as loud and clear as if he were standing right there beside me.

  Violet?

  Excitement flooded my veins, made my heart accelerate.

  You’re here? I glanced around, hoping that nobody was watching me as I stood there smiling giddily to myself.

  I’m here, he confirmed. Where are you?

  On my way to the gym for practice. I’ll be done in an hour. Where are you?

  I’ll meet you at the chapel after practice, came his reply.

  Okay, see you then.

  Oh, man. This was going to be a long hour. I hurried my step, walking on air now. The anticipation was nearly killing me, like a sharp, searing burn beneath my skin.

  I slowed as I neared the gym, allowing myself to remember the last time he’d kissed me, just before I’d boarded the plane to Atlanta back in June. It had taken every ounce of strength I possessed to finally step away from him, to turn and walk toward that plane.

  I only hoped the reality of our reunion could live up to my imaginings. Which, I realized, seemed unlikely, given the enormity of the buildup in my mind. It was probably a good thing that I had to get through an hour’s worth of practice first, to focus my mind elsewhere.

  “Hey, Violet!” a voice called out, and I turned to see one of my teammates headed toward me, one hand raised in a wave.