Eternal (11 page)

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Authors: Kristi Cook

BOOK: Eternal
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I needed to talk to Matthew, I realized. He was probably right in the middle of teaching a class, but what choice did I have? Besides, I was pretty sure that he’d want me to check in with him before gallivanting off to face who knows what.

“You ready?” Tyler asked, reaching for my bag. He slung it over one shoulder with his own, a late pass clutched in his hand.

“We’ve got a stop to make first.” I grabbed my coat and followed him out into the corridor.

“Dr. Byrne?” he asked as soon as the classroom door swung shut.

I nodded. “Yup.”

“You going to tell me what’s going on?”

“I would if I knew, Ty. I was just sitting there listening to Dr. Andrulis and . . . and then I felt a buzz in my head and I could have sworn I heard Aidan’s voice. You know . . . there.” I tapped one temple.

“Seriously?” He pushed open the door at the end of the hallway, and we stepped out into the courtyard, making our way around the fountain toward the science wing.

“Yeah, and that’s right when the phone rang. I have no idea if the two are somehow related.” Shivering now, I zipped up my fleece.

“Well, what did he say? In your head, I mean.”

“Nothing much. Just my name and then . . .
here
.”

“Here? Like, here at Winterhaven?”

“I have no idea, Tyler!” Was it possible? I didn’t dare allow myself to hope.

I followed Tyler into the science wing and up the stairs toward Matthew’s office. We passed it, and Tyler stopped two doors down, in front of a classroom. Through the pane of glass in the door, I could see Matthew standing at the front of the room wearing goggles, surrounded by equipment. I waved, trying to catch his eye, but it was no use.

“You stay here,” Tyler said before opening the door and slipping inside.

I watched as he approached Matthew, pulling him aside and gesturing with his hands as he spoke to him. Matthew removed his goggles and said something to the class before following him out into the hallway.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his brow creased with worry.

Quickly, I told him what had happened.

“I’m going with you,” Matthew said, reaching for the door.

“Wait.” I grabbed his sleeve. “You can’t go with me. I mean, does Mrs. Girard know about the
Megvéd
stuff?”

He shook his head. “No, but she knows I’m your psychic coach.”

“Well, that doesn’t really explain why you’d abandon your class to come with me, does it?”

“She’s right,” Tyler said.

“I’m still coming. I’ll stay outside the office, pretend that I’m there to talk to Ackerman or something.”

“In the middle of fifth period?”

He glanced down at his watch. “The bell’s in ten minutes, and I don’t teach sixth period. Let me go dismiss my class, and you go to the dorm to get your stake. I’ll meet you in the East Hall lounge.”

“My stake?” My voice rose in alarm. “This might just be a coincidence, right? Maybe Dr. Ackerman just needs to talk to me about something. She
is
the senior adviser.”

Matthew looked unmoved. “If that were the case, couldn’t it wait till after sixth period, Violet? C’mon, what do your instincts tell you?”

I took a deep, calming breath. For a moment, I closed my eyes, still breathing deeply. I explored my senses, searching for anything out of the ordinary, any hint of something not right. And there it
was, a slight tingling sensation on my right wrist. Almost like a vibration running from my wrist to my fingertips. I recognized the signs now, knew what the sensation meant.

Vampire.

With an audible gasp, I opened my eyes. “Yeah, something’s up. I don’t know who it is exactly, but there’s a vampire back on campus.”

Matthew tapped his left shoulder. “I’ve got my baselard.”

Tyler looked confused. “Your
what
?”

“Just get her to the dorm, okay?” Matthew turned back toward the classroom door. “I’ll meet you there in just a few minutes.”

With a nod, Tyler reached for my arm.

“Let’s get this straight,” I said, shrugging off his touch. “I don’t need you to
get
me anywhere. I can get myself there just fine, okay?”

He raised two hands in surrender. “Hey, I got it. Just trying to help out here.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “I know you are. I’m sorry. I’m a little on edge right now.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Look, I told Dr. Andrulis I was walking you there. He thinks you’re sick or something. Let’s not give him any reason to think otherwise.”

“I know. You’re right. But let’s hurry, okay?” Because what if
it
was
Aidan I was sensing and he was somehow back at Winterhaven? I fought the sudden urge to take off at a sprint, abandoning Tyler and Matthew and all of their careful caution.

I needed to get to the headmistress’s office.
Now.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Tyler said. “I know exactly what you’re thinking, but we’re not doing it that way. We’re doing just what Dr. Byrne said. First we’re going to the dorm and getting your stake, and then we’re meeting him in the lounge. If the boyfriend’s really here at Winterhaven, there’ll be plenty of time for the happy reunion later. Okay?”

“Okay.” I nodded, swallowing hard as my mind latched on to the phrase “happy reunion.”

Was this it, finally? After two months of frustration, of worry and heartbreak? My stomach did a nervous little flip, my heart fluttering wildly in my chest.

“Isn’t that your stake hand?” Tyler asked, and I glanced down at my right hand, surprised to find that I had been standing there, flexing it.

As if I were gearing up for a fight.

I pushed aside the thought, refusing to examine it further. Instead, I reached for Tyler’s hand, clasping it tightly in mine. I was glad for the contact, relieved that the pressure on my fingers
was dulling the strange sensations as I tugged him along beside me. “Just don’t let go of me, okay?”

“Whatever you say,” he quipped, grinning his cocky grin as he glanced down at our joined hands.

“I’m serious, Tyler. Forget what I said earlier—I really need you right now.”

He paused by the door that led out to the courtyard. “Hey, whatever happens in the headmistress’s office”—he took a deep breath, his steady gaze meeting mine—“I’m here for you. I know I act like an asshole sometimes, but friendship means a lot to me. Friends are all I’ve got, you know?”

“I know,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. Because I did—I was an orphan, after all, with no living blood relatives save my Gran. Rising up on tiptoe, I pressed a kiss to Tyler’s cheek. “I really do. Now, c’mon, let’s go.”

12 ~ Royal Blood

F
or several seconds, I paused outside the office’s medieval-looking door, gathering my courage to face whatever—and whomever—was on the other side of it.

Please, please let Aidan be there.

“You’ve got this,” Tyler said softly, laying a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded and then glanced over at Matthew, who sat on one of the benches against the wall. He was trying to look disinterested, but not quite pulling it off. Maybe I just knew him too well—I recognized that, despite his casual pose, the hard set of his jaw and the shadowed look in his eyes meant that he was worried.
Really
worried. I could sense the waves of anxiety rolling off him as I reached down and patted my stake, which was strapped
safely against the inside of my left calf, tucked into the new sheath Matthew had made for me.

Silently, Matthew tipped his head toward the door.

Okay.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, wiping my damp palms on my jeans before rapping sharply on the door three times.

“Come in!” a feminine voice trilled out.

Mrs. Girard!

I was nearly hyperventilating when I pushed open the door and stepped inside, pulling up short at the sight of the person standing there beside Mrs. Girard. I froze, unable to move a single muscle. I blinked several times, sure that my eyes were playing tricks on me.

“Shut the door,
chérie
,” Mrs. Girard said, smiling broadly.

I did as she asked, and then launched myself across the room—right into Aidan’s arms.

Without a word, he gathered me into his embrace, his face buried in my hair. I could feel his entire body trembling as my tears dampened his shirt.

“It’s really you,” I managed to whisper, my windpipe so tight I could barely breathe.

His only response was a strangled, choking sound, and I realized then that he was reining in his own tears. My hair was damp
with them now. He lowered his head, pressing his lips against my shoulder.

All I could hear was the sound of my own heart thumping noisily against his chest as we stood there silently, clutching at each other like we’d never let go. The room seemed to fall away, and I didn’t care who was there watching us.

And then Mrs. Girard cleared her throat, breaking the spell. “I know this has come as a bit of a shock, Miss McKenna, but if you’ll take a seat, I’ll explain it all to you.”

Aidan released me, his gaze never straying from mine as I blindly reached for the chair that Mrs. Girard indicated and lowered myself into it. It was only then that I got a good look at him, and my breath hitched.

He was pale. Thin. Gaunt. His eyes were faintly rimmed in red, and there were deep, purplish blue shadows beneath them, looking almost bruise-like against his fair skin. I’d never seen him look so frail, so haunted.

Just what had they done to him?

“Don’t worry,
chérie
. His physical form will heal soon enough, and he’ll be just as he was before.”

I wondered if I’d somehow let the barrier around my mind slip, or if she’d simply read my expression. Whichever the case, I made sure my mind was safely guarded now.

Mrs. Girard moved around her desk and sat in the enormous leather chair facing me. It was only then that I noticed the tall, dark-haired man standing beside the fireplace, one hand resting on the mantel. He was enormous, broad and muscular, with slicked-back hair that fell to his shoulders and piercing, pale blue eyes.

Mrs. Girard noticed that I was staring and turned to gesture at the man. “I’m sorry. Wherever are my manners? Miss McKenna, this is Luc Mihailov, one of my closest associates.”

So
this
was Luc—one of the two male Tribunal members who’d been turned by Vlad the Impaler. Aidan had called him a friend, but right now I was willing to bet that Luc was acting as Aidan’s guard. He seemed somehow . . . menacing. I couldn’t help but notice that my right hand tingled, itching for my stake, whenever I looked at him.

I considered breaching his mind, but decided against it. At least, not yet. I didn’t sense an immediate threat.

I turned my attention back to Mrs. Girard. “Okay, so what’s going on?” I asked her.

“It’s time for me to lay my cards on the table,” she said. “We need your help.”

“My help?” I chanced a glance at Aidan, who sat slumped in his chair, staring at the floor with empty eyes. Fear settled in the pit of my stomach.

What the hell is going on?

Mrs. Girard nodded. “Yours and Aidan’s. War has erupted, you see. Isa, the Eldest, has been destroyed, the Tribunal disbanded.”

“Okay, you’ve got to back up,” I said, shaking my head. “Who, exactly, is at war?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I thought Aidan had explained it to you. The factions.”

“Only a little bit. I mean, I know about the Propagators.” I shuddered at the memory of Julius and his little harem.

“Yes, and they make up the largest portion of the opposition, along with the Wampiri—they hunt from noon to midnight—and a few feral, ancient tribes. Let me put it this way—our kind can basically be divided into two groups. One believes that vampires are the higher race, superior beings to mere mortals. Ultimately, they’d like to grow their numbers to the point that they can subjugate humanity. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

A shiver raced down my spine. “Yeah, I think I get it.”

“The others,” she continued, “feel far more connected to our humanity. Our aim is to coexist with mortals, to remain cloaked by the screen of myth and legend. We fear that the discovery of our existence would lead to panic and panic to mass destruction of our kind. Up till now, the two sides have managed to agree to disagree. Some of the dissenters choose to live under Tribunal
law and therefore are afforded our protection, and some choose not to.”

“What’s changed, then?”

“The Propagators’ numbers have swelled recently, and they’ve launched several mass attacks on the populace in Eastern Europe. We’ve contained the situation, but just barely. The Tribunal decided to send out an army, which basically amounts to a declaration of war.

“But then there was a coup from within. While the battle for the Eldest rages among the ancients, the Propagators are taking full advantage of our state of disarray. Worse, we’ve learned that a traitor—a member of the Tribunal—has given valuable information to our enemy. Information about our greatest weapon.” She paused, glancing over at Aidan, who sat now with his head cradled in his hands.

This had something to do with him, obviously. I couldn’t help but remember the time I had breached her mind, right here in her office. She’d thought of Aidan as her “crown jewel.”

“Go on,” I prodded.

“There’s a legend—a prophecy, if you will—that the Tribunal has carefully guarded for centuries. The legend speaks of a leader—the
Dauphin
, we call him in my native tongue—who is a male vampire of royal blood, turned before his eighteenth birthday.

“There are several elements to the legend, including the fact that the
Dauphin
’s maker cannot know of her victim’s royal blood at the time of his making. You see, so that no one sets out to intentionally fulfill the prophecy.”

The full effect of her words finally sank into my muddled brain. Aidan was the
Dauphin
. At least, she thought he was.

“Other parts of the legend specify the
Dauphin
’s exceptional abilities. One, he cannot be destroyed—not by a vampire. Two, he will possess the ability to command the
Sâbbat
and the
Krsnik,
giving him power over both breed of vampire slayer.”

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