It was over in a matter of seconds, effectively illustrating that, in a real-life situation, there’d be no time to think, only to react. I would have to rely on my ability to breach a vampire’s mind, to know his intentions—and then make a snap judgment.
Over the past several Saturdays, we’d pretty much come to an agreement on what would earn a vampire’s death sentence. Any intent to kill or inflict serious harm—any malicious intent whatsoever—and they were toast, as was any vampire who posed a threat to us, both real or imagined. We couldn’t afford to take any chances. But beyond that? It was going to be my call.
Matthew and I had also worked on devising a series of hand signals so that we could communicate nonverbally. It all seemed so surreal—I hoped we’d never have to put any of this training to use. But if we did, well . . . at least I was starting to feel prepared.
I glanced down at Tyler, who was lying on the ground clutching his chest. “Sorry about that. I tried to take it easy on you this time.”
“Yeah, sure you did.” He groaned as he dragged himself to a sitting position. “Oh, man. How did I let y’all talk me into this?”
I just shrugged and lowered myself to the ground beside him.
“Feel free to kiss it and make it better,” he offered, smiling wickedly now. “You know, if it’ll help ease your conscience and all.”
I rolled my eyes. “In your dreams, Bennett. Are we done?” I asked Matthew.
“Yeah, that’s it for today.” He was already reaching for his jacket. “I’ve got to run to a dorm masters’ meeting. I’ll see you both later, okay?”
“Have fun,” I called out, then collapsed onto my back, staring up at the chapel’s ceiling.
Tyler flopped onto his back beside me. “Later, Dr. B.”
Matthew’s footsteps receded, and then the heavy door slammed shut.
“You should probably ice that,” I said to Tyler. “You know, to keep the bruising down.”
“Nah. I’ll wear it as a badge of honor. If anyone asks me what happened, I’ll just say that you got a little rough with me. Make ’em wonder.”
I turned my head to glare at him, but he just grinned back at me. “You wouldn’t dare,” I said.
“You know me better than that, Vi. Course I would.”
“You want to get Kate mad at me?”
“Aw, you don’t have to worry about Kate. I’m pretty sure she’s moved on to greener pastures. Of the ex-boyfriend kind.”
“Speaking of that, what happened last weekend at the dance? With you and Kate, I mean. I thought you two were going together.”
“Nah. She needs time to sort stuff out. You know how it goes.”
“I guess,” I said with a shrug.
“Anyway, Max’s band was playing a set, so I helped them out with equipment and stuff.”
“Oh, yeah? You’re one of his roadies now?” I teased.
“Hey, I’m his best roadie. His only roadie.” He reached for my ponytail and gave it tug. “How are you holding up? Seriously, I’m worried about you.”
I sighed heavily. “I’m okay. I feel better since I talked to Whitney. Did I tell you that she’s agreed to enter some sort of program?”
“An eating disorder thing?”
“Yeah. It’s just an outpatient program, but it’s better than nothing. I think she’s taking it pretty seriously.”
“It’s a good thing you can tell her about your visions.”
“Yeah. I think this one really freaked her out. I had to tell her, though. I’m glad I did.”
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
“Just so you know,” he said at last, “I actually miss the boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” I asked, my voice catching in my throat.
“Yeah. Art history just isn’t the same without him sitting there glowering at me, you know?”
I laughed, careful that it didn’t turn into a sob. “Yeah, I know.”
“Sophie tells me you got kind of a shock over the weekend.”
I sat up sharply. “What did she tell you?”
“Just that, and nothing else, the secretive little wench.” With a groan, he rose to a sitting position. “I assume it has something to do with that new ring I’ve seen you sporting?”
I glanced down at my finger, bare now. I kept the ring tucked safely away in my room during my training sessions, but otherwise I wore it everywhere I went. But I didn’t want to talk about the ring—not now, and not with Tyler.
“He left me his house,” I said instead. “And everything in it. It’s all held in trust for me till my birthday next month.”
Tyler’s eyes widened with genuine surprise—meaning that Sophie hadn’t spilled the beans. “Seriously? That’s gotta be worth millions.”
“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “But what am I supposed to do with it? I mean, if he doesn’t come back?”
He took a deep breath, looking as if he were carefully considering his words. “Byrne thinks he will.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart pounding furiously now.
“He’s never come out and said it, not in so many words. But I can tell he thinks it. And he wants to have the cure ready for him when he does.”
God, I hoped he was right. Was it possible that Matthew had seen something in a vision—something that he wasn’t telling me about? But if that were true, why would he keep it from me?
Supposedly we shared some sort of psychic bond, which, for now, seemed limited to Matthew’s visions. Maybe there was more to it, something still untapped. Maybe there was a way I could get inside his head. I vowed to work on it, to test it out.
“You ready to bust this joint?” Tyler asked, rising and reaching a hand down to help me up.
“I’m ready.” I took his proffered hand and hopped to my feet.
He released me, readjusting his colorful string bracelets. “So . . . early movie tonight—whaddya say? I’ll buy the popcorn and Coke.”
I somehow had a feeling I was going to regret what I was about to say. “Sure, but I’m buying. I owe it to you after all the abuse you took today.”
He raked a hand through his damp, shaggy hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions. “Did I ever tell you that I like a girl who can kick ass?”
“Yeah, like a million times. Now shut up and go take a shower.”
“Deal. It’s a date.” With that, he turned and jogged toward the door.
“It’s not a date, Tyler,” I called out after him. “It’s not a date. Seriously, I’m asking Sophie to come too!”
He paused briefly by the door, turning to smile innocently at me. “Hey, the more the merrier.”
With that, he took off without me.
11 ~ Seeing Ghosts
Okay, folks, don’t forget we’ve got our field trip to MoMA on Friday.” Dr. Andrulis was passing back our graded quizzes, his hands sheathed in tan gloves, as always. “We’ll meet by the bus at ten a.m. sharp. Make sure you have all your teachers sign the slip so they’ll know where you are. Nice job, Miss McKenna.” He handed me a paper with a ninety-eight written in red and circled at the top.
“Thanks,” I said, taking it with a smile.
Teacher’s pet, Tyler mouthed beside me.
I stuck my tongue out at him. Truth be told, art history had quickly become my favorite class. It turns out I really enjoyed learning about art and artists, particularly the history behind the different movements. I was even considering majoring in art history now, especially if I managed to get accepted at the American University of Paris. And AUP was now my top-choice school, since I assumed that Aidan was in Paris somewhere. Maybe our telepathy would work better at close range.