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Authors: Amanda M. Lee

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BOOK: 2 Whispering
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Twelve

I had hundreds of questions I wanted to pelt Paris with after our earlier discussion. I had to put them on hold, though, when Brittany came back to the room. While Brittany was aware of the supernatural population on campus, she wasn’t exactly taking things well on that front, though. I thought ghosts might push her over the edge. In addition to that, I didn’t want her gossiping with her new pledge sisters during some lame rush event. I didn’t exactly trust her. What? I said I’d be nice to her face. That doesn’t mean I trust her behind her back. I’m complicated that way.

The next day was Wednesday, so I had the same class schedule as Monday – math, horror literature and current events. In addition, though, Paris and I had our weekly astronomy lab on the roof of the science building. I can’t tell you how much I was looking forward to that. It was supposed to dip into the 20s tonight. That should make for a comfortable star watching experience.

Paris had jokingly said she was going to bring a flask of Hot Damn cinnamon schnapps to keep us warm. I was starting to think that was a legitimate idea and not just a joke idea, at this point.

My second math class was just as boring as the first one had been. I couldn’t decide which class was going to be worse this semester: Math or psychology.

Thankfully, my next two classes were a lot more entertaining. We were reading Bram Stoker’s
Dracula
in my horror literature class. I had read the book for the first time when I was thirteen and I could keep up with the class discussion fairly easily without reading it again.

My current events class was actually action packed. Professor Livingston was passionate about the state of the media today and he was having a virtual fit about the recent coverage on the government budget talks. He was a pretty animated guy and I was definitely enjoying his lecture.

After class, I walked out into the hallway with Matilda. She was yammering on about something I didn’t really care about and I was scanning the hallway for something – anything really – to distract me from her obsessive chatter about Rick No. 1.

Unfortunately what my eyes focused on was Professor Sam Blake. He was about fifty feet away from me and down the hall – but his eyes were trained on me. He was watching me.

“What a tool,” I muttered.

“What?” Matilda was momentarily nonplussed. “Rick is not a tool.”

“Not Rick,” I admonished her.

“Who?” She turned to see whom I was staring at but I quickly snapped my eyes back to her.

“I forgot, I have to go talk to my English professor about something on the syllabus. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Matilda’s mouth dropped open to say something – if it was about Rick No. 1 I was about to scream – but I didn’t let her continue. Instead I turned on my heel and swished through the crowd with a clear purpose. That purpose was Professor Blake.

I came up short when I saw that he was talking to Professor Livingston. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously in Professor Livingston’s direction, but he didn’t even seem to be aware of my presence.

“Can you believe CNN spent that much time on the debt ceiling debate without also talking about health care and the defense budget?”

Professor Blake had looked bored with the conversation before I stalked over to his side. Now he seemed really distracted. “It’s terrible, I agree,” Professor Blake said distractedly.

I cleared my throat, still unsure what I was going to say to him until the words were actually exiting my mouth. “Professor Blake, I was wondering if I could talk to you about that project we were talking about the other day?”

Professor Blake raised an eyebrow in my direction. “I thought you were all set on that project?”

“Something has . . . come up that I wasn’t quite prepared for and I just want to see what you think about it before I proceed.” I felt like I was suddenly in an episode of
Alias
. I was Sydney Bristow and Professor Blake was Arvin Sloane.  Now if I could just find a cave to trap him in for eternity.

“Sure,” Professor Blake said stiffly, as if he was doing me a favor. “Why don’t we go up to my office and talk about it?”

“Great,” I muttered, although I was thinking it was anything but great.

“Paul, can we continue this later?” Professor Blake directed the question to Professor Livingston, but his eyes never left my face.

“Sure,” Professor Livingston said. “I have stuff to do anyway.”

Professor Blake separated from Professor Livingston and ushered me towards the stairwell that led upstairs to the staff offices. We didn’t say a word to each other until we were safely locked inside his office – with the door to the hallway closed behind us. He clearly didn’t want any of his peers to hear our conversation.

Professor Blake sat at his desk and regarded me speculatively. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Now that I was here I wasn’t sure exactly how much I wanted to tell him. I’m naturally suspicious by nature, but Sam Blake makes me uber-suspicious. I decided to start slowly.

“I want to know what you’re keeping secret from me.”

Okay, maybe not that slowly.

Professor Blake sighed wearily. “I’m not keeping anything from you. Remember, I’m the one that shared our secrets with you. You’re the one that is hiding things from me.”

That was true, but I wasn’t going to admit it. “What do you think I’m keeping from you?”

“I know that something happened at the Delta Chi fraternity party last semester. I also know that you were part of it.” Professor Blake was holding his cards pretty close to his vest. I recognized the effort, because I was doing the same thing.

“How do you know I was part of it?”

“We have operatives throughout this campus. It’s very hard to keep something secret from us.”

Operatives? And we’re back to being in an episode of
Alias
. “Obviously it’s not that hard,” I said sarcastically. “Otherwise, why would you be asking me questions about it?”

“We’ve just heard rumors,” Professor Blake admitted. “I would like to hear the truth from you.”

I pondered how much I should tell him and then decided to go with the truth – or as much of the truth as I dared tell him without risking Aric and Rafael’s identities. “Well, it was a great bonfire,” I started bitterly. “Only they were hoping to burn human sacrifices.”

Professor Blake looked surprised. Obviously his spies weren’t as adept as he thought. “Did anyone die?”

“No one of consequence,” I replied, thinking back to my former roommate Tara.

Professor Blake waited for me to continue.

“You remember my roommate Tara?”

“The one that died behind the bar?”

“Yeah, except she didn’t die.”

“What do you mean?”

I told Professor Blake what I had found out about Tara. I explained about her being a witch and recounted my trip to her hometown – leaving out the parts that included Aric. I told him about how she had glamoured another body to make it appear like it was her and how she thought that sacrificing humans would help her live forever and how she had manipulated a few members of the Delta Chi fraternity to help her. I left out the parts about her blood feud with Rafael and his family.

When I was done, Professor Blake looked as if I had knocked the wind out of him. “Are you making this up?”

“No,” I shook my head.

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

Well, that was a loaded question. When in doubt, it’s best to go with the truth. “I don’t trust you.”

Professor Blake swallowed hard and regarded me seriously. “I’m sorry you don’t trust me, but you still should have told me.”

“Why?”

“I’m an authority figure. I could have investigated this. I could have found out the answers you’re looking for. We could have worked together to make this a better campus.”

“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “You couldn’t find your own ass with both your hands. You had no idea what happened at that party until I told you.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Professor Blake started to argue. “You were attacked by monsters. I hunt monsters.”

“Not very well,” I shot back.

“Well, when people like yourself keep things from us, you handicap us.”

I didn’t think that was his only handicap. Still, I had come to his office for a reason and I wasn’t going to leave until I at least asked the questions that had been gnawing at me for months. “Do you want to know the real reason I don’t trust you? I mean beyond the fact that you seem to be trying to exterminate entire races of beings? It’s because I know you’re lying to me. I know you know something – or think you know something – about me. The fact that you won’t tell me what you know drives me crazy.”

“What could we possibly know about you?” Professor Blake avoided my diatribe, for the most part.

He was trying to trap me, I realized. He wanted to know if I would admit to anything. While I was still dubious about Paris’ amplifier theory, there was no way I was going to share it with Professor Blake.

“I guess we’re right back where we started from then,” I said, leveling a cool gaze on Professor Blake.

“I guess we are,” Professor Blake said. “We need to move on from this, though. If you could just return to the group, start taking some classes, I think . . .”

I didn’t let him finish. “That’s not going to happen.” I got to my feet and started moving towards the door. I stopped and turned back, though, when a thought occurred to me.

“What do you know about ghosts?”

My question clearly took Professor Blake off guard. “I’m sorry?”

“What do you know about ghosts?” I repeated the question.

“They make great movies.”

Professor humor is an acquired taste – and I hoped I would never acquire it. “I’m serious.”

“I know they’re not real,” Professor Blake said. “I think people just make up the stories to make themselves feel better about death or to explain some scary occurrence that they’ve been a part of. It’s just a figment of people’s imaginations.”

Tell that to the girl that died in 1975 and is still hanging around Barnes Hall, I thought bitterly.

“Why do you ask?” Professor Blake prodded.

“No reason,” I shrugged off the question. “I’ve just been reading up on some stuff and I was wondering what was real and what was not real.” There was no reason to tell him the truth. He wouldn’t be any help to me and I wasn’t going to help him on purpose.

“There are plenty of monsters out there without dreaming up new ones,” Professor Blake said absently. “You should focus on the real monsters. There are a lot of them on this canvas. You’ve probably crossed paths with them and haven’t even realized it.””

I narrowed my gaze as I regarded him. “Don’t worry,” I replied finally. “I’m discovering new monsters every day.”

What I didn’t say was that some of those monsters were humans – and humans without all the information but a dangerous ideal could be just as dangerous as werewolves and vampires.

Thirteen

Paris and I ate dinner early that night. Then we returned to our room and dressed in several layers of clothing before we set off for our astrology lab.

“This seemed like a better idea last semester when we were warm in our dorm,” Paris lamented about five minutes into our trek across campus.

“It certainly did,” I huffed, frowning at the foggy breath emanating from my lungs.

“I just knew I didn’t want to take a physics or biology lab,” Paris continued. “I didn’t think about how miserable this would be.”

“It will probably be nice in the spring,” I said brightly.

“Yeah, but we have two months of hell first.”

I didn’t answer her. My mind was running through the afternoon’s events.

“Are you thinking about Lisa Hawkins?” Paris asked. I hadn’t told her about my conversation with Professor Blake yet.

“Kind of,” I admitted.

“What are you thinking about?”

I took the opportunity to recount my conversation with Professor Blake for her. She didn’t seem surprised by my revelation.

“You think he was trying to trap you into admitting you’re an amplifier?”

“You think I’m an amplifier. I don’t know what to think about that,” I said, pulling my heavy coat in closer around my rapidly chilling body. “I think he was trying to trap me into admitting something to him, though. I just don’t know what.”

“Have you considered talking to Aric about it?”

“I haven’t seen him since Sunday,” I reminded her. “Also, I don’t want to run to him whenever there’s something we don’t understand.” That might be a slippery slope – and we didn’t understand a lot of things, so it might also be a frequent occurrence.

“You don’t want to rely on him?”

“No and I don’t want his head getting any bigger than it already is,” I answered. “I’m sick of him thinking he knows everything. When that happens he just tries to boss me around and act like he’s a king.”

“Or you like him and you just don’t want to admit it because you’re stubborn,” Paris teased.

“I am not stubborn.”

“But you do like him, don’t you?”

“How are things with Mike?” I shifted the conversation from my love life to Paris’ smoothly.

“They’re fine,” Paris said evasively.

“How are things with Mark?”

“What are you talking about?” Paris looked suddenly uncomfortable – and it wasn’t just the cold this time.

“I mean you seemed pretty flirty with him at dinner the other night.”

“I was not!”

“Fine. You weren’t flirting with Mark.”

We lapsed into silence.

“So, why don’t you want to date Aric again?” Paris asked.

“So when are you going to dump Mike for Mark?”

Paris glared at me. “It’s a good thing we’re at the science building,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, because if we weren’t you were about to get really sarcastic,” I laughed.

I could tell Paris wanted to pretend that she was still angry but she couldn’t hide the smile that was tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You’re impossible sometimes.”

“Maybe that’s my super power,” I suggested brightly. “I’m able to bring tall werewolves down by the sheer hint of an argument.”

“That would be a cool super power,” Paris agreed.

And, with that, all traces of the uncomfortable conversation we had just been engaged in washed away.

The astrology lab was just as miserable as I thought it would be. The first session – which the professor said was just a light introduction – included looking through a telescope and then identifying certain constellations on our star charts. Since we had to spread the star charts out on the ground to look at them properly, I couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to work when the snow finally started to fall.

After an hour of sheer hell, the professor finally dismissed us. Paris and I couldn’t get into the warmth of the building fast enough.

“We should leave right now for the dorm, while we’re still numb,” Paris suggested. “It’s just going to be worse if we warm up and then walk back to the dorms in the cold.”

She was probably right. So, despite the fact that my body was screaming at me to stay in the warm confines of the science building, I trudged back outside behind Paris and started for home.

By this point we were both too cold to even attempt to hold a conversation. We were both fixated on getting back to the dorms and getting warm. Despite the overt chill, though, and the past ten minutes of quiet, I thought I heard Paris whisper something in my ear.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Paris huffed.

“Yes you did. I heard you.”

“No I didn’t,” Paris replied.

“I guess I must be hearing things then,” I said irritably.

“I guess you must.”

I heard a twig snap behind me and froze suddenly. Paris pulled up short when she saw my body go rigid. “What?”

“Did you hear that?” I swung around to search the dark. I was hoping it was just another student behind us, but the hair standing up on the back of my neck told me that wasn’t what I was going to find.

“Hear what?” Paris looked around nervously.

“I heard a noise.”

“This is a campus full of people.”

“Yeah, but . . . I think there’s something out there.” How do you explain a feeling?

“Like what? A werewolf? At least he would keep us warm,” Paris grumbled.

I continued to scan the area behind us, but I couldn’t see anyone. I had pretty much convinced myself that I had imagined the noise when I heard another noise to the left of us.

I swung around hurriedly. There was a wall of hedges on the side of the sidewalk – and even though they weren’t moving, I was convinced someone was hiding behind them.

“I heard that,” Paris acquiesced.

“Do you think we should go look?” I was hoping Paris would talk me out of it.

“I think we should run.”

“I was hoping you would say that.”

We both turned and immediately started to run towards the dorms. My heart was hammering in my chest, making it hard for me to listen to the environment around me. I could see the lights of the dorms twinkling in the distance – but they were still too far away in the distance. If we were being hunted, we wouldn’t make it back to the dorms.

I was so focused on trying to run and listen at the same time I didn’t notice the dark figure that detached from the nearby foliage and moved onto the sidewalk next to us. We were practically on top of the individual when I finally noticed him. Thankfully, though, I recognized him.

“Christ! Make a noise or something!”

Rafael didn’t seem bothered by my sudden explosion. Instead, he looked me up and down for a few seconds before finally speaking. “What are you doing out at this time of night?”

“It’s 8 p.m.,” I grumbled. “We’re coming back from our astrology lab.”

“You shouldn’t be taking night classes,” Rafael admonished me. I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold despite the fact that he was wearing a thin trench coat.

“You look like an idiot,” I barked out. What? I was glad to seem him but I was still worked up by the noise in the bushes. Somehow, I doubted Rafael had been creeping around trying to scare us – which meant that he had only scared off the first stalker. Of course, my imagination could have gotten the better of me and it could have been animal in the bushes, too.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Rafael said calmly. “It’s been awhile.”

“Yeah, that whole ramming a stake through a witch’s heart thing leaves a vivid memory, though.”

Rafael shrugged. “I had some stuff to handle.”

“With your friendly vampire friends?”

He nodded. “Are you heading back to your dorm? I’ll walk you guys there.”

The final five minutes of our walk was done in relative silence. I scanned the area behind us a couple of times, but I didn’t see anyone else out in the dark. Once we got back, Paris practically ran up the stairs and to the warmth of our room. Since Rafael had followed us into the main entry of the dorm, though, I figured he had something he wanted to talk to me about.

“How was your Christmas break?” Rafael asked. It was an awkward question. Once we were inside, though, I was more willing to listen to him.

“Fine. Nothing special.” I didn’t tell him the specifics of my werewolf confrontation with Aric. For some reason, I didn’t discuss either man with the other. It was just an uncomfortable situation.

Rafael perched uneasily on the edge of one of the large chairs in the main entrance and ran his hand through his shoulder-length black hair uneasily. I could tell he wasn’t comfortable in this setting, but he obviously had something he wanted to talk to me about. I couldn’t help but marvel at how his tanned skin (tanned vampires, who knew?) stood out even more in the doldrums of a Michigan winter. “You look like you just got back from a vacation in the Bahamas.”

“That’s what I tell people when they ask,” Rafael said. He had told me last semester that the myth of the pale vampire was just that. It all depended on how you looked when you were turned.

“How often do people ask?”

“Not very often. For some reason I make people nervous.”

“I can see that,” I sighed, throwing myself in the chair across from Rafael’s perch. “You’re not exactly approachable.”

“You approached me.”

“You approached me,” I corrected him.

Rafael merely shook his head. Maybe that super power was something of a reality, after all.

“So, what’s up?” I asked finally.

“I was just checking to make sure things were okay with you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You haven’t had any more run-ins with the dogs then?”

The dogs? Ah, he meant the werewolves. Apparently werewolves and vampires don’t get along. They both look down on each other.

“Not really.”

Rafael’s dark gaze was probing. “What does not really mean?”

“I haven’t seen any of the frat brothers from that night.”

“Not even Will?”

Will. My ex-boyfriend. The one that I realized had become a made werewolf when it was too late to help him. The boyfriend that I had known forever – but hadn’t really known at all. “No.”

“Not even at home?”

“I don’t think he wanted to risk coming to town,” I said sardonically. “Besides, we don’t exactly have a lot to say to each other anymore.”

Rafael mulled my statement. “That’s probably true. What about Winters?”

“It’s a cold winter,” I agreed, not really understanding the question – or maybe just avoiding it. “It’s going to be miserable when we finally get snow.”

Rafael smirked at my avoidance tactic. “I was talking about Aric Winters.”

“What about him?”

“Have you seen him?”

“In what context?”

“In the context that you’ve been in the same space as him.”

I blew out a sigh. “I’ve seen him a couple of times.”

“Are you dating him?”

That was a weird question. “No.”

“Are you going to date him?”

“No.” Probably not. Okay, maybe.

“You need to be careful around the dogs. They’re not what they seem.”

“Who is?”

Rafael tilted his head slightly. “Point taken.”

“What are you really doing here, Rafael?”

“I told you, I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“You weren’t worried about me right after I was almost killed by a band of rogue werewolves,” I pointed out.

“I was busy,” Rafael said dismissively. “I knew you were fine.”

“How did you know that?”

“I just knew,” Rafael said.

Well, this conversation was going well. “Well, thanks for your concern, I guess.”

Rafael got to his feet; clearly realizing the conversation was over. While I didn’t mind being around him most of the time – he was incredibly good looking, after all – all I could think about was getting my numb feet out of my boots and wrapping myself up in a fleece blanket. A thought occurred to me, though. “Before you go, I have a question.”

Rafael raised an eyebrow and waited for me to continue.

“What do you know about ghosts?”

Rafael didn’t seem surprised by my question. “Not much. I don’t hang out with them, if that’s what you mean.”

“You mean the dead and the undead don’t party every weekend?”

Rafael ignored the question. “Why are you asking me this?”

I told him about Lisa Hawkins and my interaction with her ghost the previous day at Barnes Hall. He took in the information quietly and waited for me to finish. When I was done, he regarded me curiously. “Did you know you could talk to ghosts?”

“Nope.”

“What do you hope to accomplish?”

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