Eternal (7 page)

“Yeah, I’m not going to bed anytime soon. I’ve still got some history to do.” I was giving up on the poems. It was a losing battle—I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for romantic poets and
their jibber jabber about sunsets and moonlight and the delicate curve of their beloved’s cheek.

Cece pulled a thick paperback from her bag. “Okay, I’ll read my English assignment, and then you want to go over the French homework together?”

“Sounds good,” I said, reaching for my history reader and turning to the first assignment.
The British Peerage System,
the title read. A quick scan of the first page made my heart sink. If it wasn’t love poems, it was barons and dukes and viscounts, oh my.

Why did
everything
have to remind me of what I’d lost?

W
hat’s this?” Matthew asked as we all filed into his office the following week bearing a cardboard tray of cupcakes purchased at the café. Max lit the candles—I wasn’t asking where he got the lighter—while we all broke out into a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday.”

I set the tray in front of Matthew. “What, did you think I’d forget?”

He blew out the candles and then leaned back in his chair, his hands folded behind his head. “Actually, I was so sure you wouldn’t that I skipped dessert and came back to my office early,” he said with a grin. “I’ve just been sitting here, waiting.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t go getting all insufferable on us.”

“Wow, ‘insufferable.’ I’m impressed,” Matthew said. “Are you reading Jane Austen in English or something?”

“I wish,” I said. “No, we’re studying the romantic poets right now. Actually, Sophie and I have a test tomorrow, so we can’t stay long.”

“Well, thanks for coming, guys. C’mon, help yourselves—these look great.” He reached for a cupcake topped with blue buttercream icing and pulled the wrapper off. “Hey, red velvet. My favorite.”

Somehow I’d known it would be. It was my favorite too.

“Maybe to show your appreciation, you could excuse me and Soph from tonight’s homework,” Tyler suggested, draping an arm across Sophie’s shoulder.

Casting an apologetic glance in Kate’s direction, Sophie wriggled out from under Tyler’s arm. “Speak for yourself,” she said, shooting him a deadly glare. “Some of us already did our homework.”

Tyler’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Yup.” Sophie nodded solemnly. “There’s this thing after dinner called study hour. You should try it sometime.”

“Yeah, well, I was gearin’ up for party mode. Didn’t want to let Dr. Byrne down or anything.”

“It was my fault,” Max offered, licking the icing from his empty cupcake paper. “I was playing him my new song, wanting some feedback.”

“And?” Matthew prodded.

“I liked it,” Tyler answered. “Sounded great acoustic. I had no idea the dude could sing like that.”

“I heard your set at the Halloween Fair dance,” Matthew said, nodding approvingly. “I was impressed. You guys are really good. Do you ever book gigs in the city or anything like that?”

“Yeah, they played a few this summer,” Marissa said. “They were awesome.”

Max shrugged off the compliment. “It was just a couple of bar sets.”

Matthew looked thoughtful. “Actually, I have a friend who’s involved with the Mercury Lounge. Maybe I could talk to him, see if he could hook you guys up with a gig. You know, like a showcase night.”

“Are you kidding me, man?” Max’s eyes were nearly bugging out of his head. “There’s, like, record label types at those things!”

“That’s what I hear,” Matthew said. “Can’t hurt, right?”

“Mercury Lounge,” Max muttered, looking suddenly pale beneath the shock of spiky black hair. “I mean . . . wow.”

“Whoa, Dr. B.” Joshua said, clapping Max on the back. “You’re gonna give the guy a coronary or something.”

“Quick, hand him another cupcake,” Cece quipped.

Kate obliged, and soon we were all laughing and chattering away, excited about this possible opportunity for Max and his band. No one looked happier than Marissa, her cheeks flushed and her dark eyes shining with obvious pride.

I was glad we’d decided to surprise Matthew, pleased to see everyone getting along so well—like a family. This large, boisterous group
was
my family, I realized with a start, a slow smile spreading across my face. Sure, we didn’t always get along, and we’d had our problems, but I felt a kinship with them all, even Tyler. And Matthew . . . Matthew was like the big brother I never had. I felt better when I was with him—with all of them together. Better and whole.

Immediately, my smile disappeared. Guilt washed over me, making my stomach lurch uncomfortably. How could I possibly consider myself whole when Aidan was gone, either being tortured or used as a pawn in a dangerous vampire war? Did he really mean so little to me that I could forget him as easily as that?

I
hadn’t
forgotten, I assured myself. And I wasn’t giving up. For a brief moment, I closed my eyes and searched for that connection to Aidan, for that thread that somehow bound us. I called
out to him telepathically, something I hadn’t allowed myself to do in a while, knowing it would only lead to disappointment. But now . . . I wanted to feel like he was still a part of us, if only in my head. I had to at least try.

Aidan?
I tried, forcing aside the celebratory sounds there in Matthew’s office, making them recede to an indistinguishable hum.

Nothing. No reply. Had I truly expected otherwise? I tamped down the disappointment, refusing to acknowledge it.

And then I gasped as red-hot heat seared my legs from my hips down. It felt as if the skin were melting from my bones. I could smell it—singed flesh—sickening me, making me gag. Flames lapped at me, the heat unbearable now, like I was being burned alive.

I screamed, falling to my hands and knees on the hard tile floor.

“Violet!” Matthew shouted. Everyone scattered, and he was by my side, kneeling on the floor with one hand on my back.

I was aware of his presence, aware of the words he was saying in my ear. And then . . . I wasn’t.

His office fell away and I was in some sort of dark, shadowy place—a dungeon, maybe. The walls were made of stone, dark brown and gray and dingy. Acrid smoke lingered in the air, mixed
with the metallic scent of blood. I tried to lift my head, but I couldn’t. I was weak, exhausted, paralyzed with the most overwhelming sensation of despair I had ever felt.

I wanted to die.
Please, let me die. End this. End it now.

The thoughts were not my own, I realized. And yet . . . and yet the feeling of despair didn’t lessen, didn’t release me from its iron grip.

A tear slipped down my cheek and onto my lip, tasting salty and bitter.
Enough. Please, enough.

“Violet! C’mon, pull out of it!” someone was shouting into my ear.

I whimpered, wanting to get away, to never see this awful place again.

“Violet? C’mon, kiddo. Come back. Damn it, come back!” There it was again, that voice. Angry and scared. I recognized it. Matthew. My
Megvéd
. My protector.

“Matthew!” I cried out, my voice hoarse.

I felt cool fingers against my wrist, pressing against my pulse point. “I’m right here, Violet. You’ve got to pull yourself out of it, okay?”

I swallowed hard, forcing my heavy eyelids to open. Matthew’s face swam into focus. My friends gathered around him in a protective circle. Cece was crying. So was Sophie, her face pressed
into Tyler’s shoulder. Tyler’s other arm was wrapped protectively around Kate, who was chewing on her lower lip.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Hey, back,” Matthew said, brushing the damp hair from my cheeks. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

“Yeah, what the
hell
just happened?” Tyler asked.

“A vision, you moron!” Kate snapped, extricating herself and kneeling down beside me. “You need some water?”

“No. I mean, yes. Water. But it wasn’t a vision. It was . . .” I shook my head. “God, I don’t know. First it was just pain—heat, like my legs were on fire. And then . . . then I was somewhere else. A dungeon, maybe. But I wasn’t me. Not like in my visions.”

“Has anything like this ever happened before?” Matthew asked, his face paling.

“Yeah . . . once before,” I said. “At Patsy’s, before school started. The heat and then later that thing with my shoulders, remember? You made Sophie check it out.” And then, just like that, the most likely explanation dawned on me, stealing away my breath entirely.
Oh my God!
“I think . . . I’m feeling . . . whatever they’re doing to Aidan,” I choked out.

“No. I can’t imagine—I mean, I’ve never heard of anything like that before,” Matthew said. “Here, can you sit up?”

I did, and took the paper cup of water that Kate handed me.

I knocked it back in one long gulp. “Wow, this was some birthday celebration, huh?”

“Definitely memorable,” Joshua agreed. “You look better. You know, more color.” He made a sweeping motion with one hand, indicating my face, I suppose.

With a wince, I ran a hand down my right leg, testing it. I was surprised to find that it felt completely normal. “I swear it felt so real. I really
am
losing my mind.”

Matthew shook his head. “There’s got to be a logical explanation. I just don’t know what it is yet, that’s all. Unfortunately, none of this stuff is an exact science. It’s all legend and lore, entirely imprecise and unpredictable.”

“Spoken like a true science teacher,” Joshua said.

“Speaking of which, why didn’t you study anthropology or ancient history or something like that?” Cece asked. “Considering . . . I mean . . .” She trailed off, looking embarrassed.

Matthew reached for my hand and helped me to my feet. “Considering I knew I was a
Megvéd
, you mean? Part of vampire lore? Yeah, that’s a good question. I guess because I like science—the thrill of discovery. But hey, science might very well help us out in the end. At least, Aidan thought it could. I’m still working on his project. His serum,” he clarified.

“What do you mean?” Tyler asked.

“Just that I’m still playing around with the formula. We’d gotten really close; I was sure of it. Aidan was sure of it too. This is the most exciting work I’ve ever done—far beyond my malaria research, and that was considered groundbreaking. Think about what it would mean, the cure. And not just for Aidan.”

Still feeling dizzy and slightly disoriented, I slid into the chair opposite Matthew’s desk. I tried to wrap my head around what Matthew was saying—tried to imagine what a cure might mean for us as
Sâbbat
and
Megvéd
. “But who are you going to test it on?”

“Aidan left me plenty of tissue and DNA samples to work with. It’s not exactly the same—not a hundred percent accurate—but I should have a good enough idea if I’m getting closer or not.”

“I’ll help,” Tyler offered. “Just tell me when.”

Matthew nodded in his direction. “Thanks, Tyler. I appreciate it.”

Sophie stepped up behind me, one hand resting on my shoulder. “I’ll help, too.”

“That’s makes two of my best advanced sci students,” Matthew said. “We’ll make a great research team.”

I was glad that they were going to try—glad that Aidan’s work would continue, even in his absence. Somehow it felt like a tribute of sorts. And maybe if I found him—
when
I found him—he’d be that much closer to a cure.

“Here. Have a cupcake,” Matthew said, handing me a purple-frosted one. “You look like you need it.”

“Thanks.” I took it, suddenly craving the sugar. I ripped off the paper and took a bite, savoring the gooey sweetness. Okay, so it wasn’t a Magnolia Bakery cupcake—my favorite—but it was pretty darn close.

Tyler sidled up beside me. “You’ve got icing on your nose. Here, I’ll lick it off.” He bent toward me, a cartoonish leer on his face.

I swatted him away. “Ugh, you’re disgusting,” I said, but I was laughing now. I could always count on Tyler to lighten the mood, to try and make me smile.

“Hey, I just offered to help cure the boyfriend, remember?”

I wiped the icing from nose. “Yeah, I remember. Thank you.”

Everyone was trying to help, each in their own way. Hope surged through me, despite my efforts to quell it. Was it possible, or had we lost him forever? Had
I
lost him forever?

I let out a sigh, forcing back the memory of the horrible sensations I’d experienced—the excruciating pain, the overwhelming despair. Somehow, I’d been inside Aidan’s head. I was sure of it. Whatever they were doing to him was bad enough that he wanted to die, hoped to die. And if that was true, well . . .

Just what would Aidan be like if I
did
find him?

H
ow many weeks had passed since we’d returned to school? Five? Six? I’d lost count. I glanced up at the calendar pinned to the wall above my desk, surprised to see that it was February already. Mid-February, I corrected myself. Almost Valentine’s Day.

Memories of last year’s Valentine’s Day came flooding back, and I shuddered. That stupid miniature—the one with Aidan’s ex, who happened to look just like me.
Isabel.
Aidan and I had fought about it, and then I’d skipped the dance that night. Months had passed before I’d been able to forgive him, time that I could never get back.

“You okay?” Cece asked me, looking up from her laptop with a frown on her face.

“Yeah, it’s just . . . I’m not looking forward to the weekend, that’s all.” I hated to be such a downer, especially with Cece all excited about going to the dance with Joshua.

Cece set aside her laptop and hurried over to wrap her arms around me. “Aww, I’m sorry. I know it’s going to be hard for you.”

I inhaled her familiar scent—coconut shampoo—and felt a little better. “When was the last time you tried?” I asked, unable to stanch my curiosity. “To project to either of them, I mean. Aidan or Mrs. Girard.”

“Yesterday morning.” Cece released me and perched on the end of my bed facing me. “No luck, but I think I’ve combed just about every square inch of Paris by now. There are a lot of projectors roaming that place, by the way. It’s kind of crazy.”