It wouldn’t be long before I found out if I got in or not—acceptance letters would start going out in mid-March, less than a month away. I made a mental note to check Aidan’s mail at his town house at some point in April, before the decision deadline. If we both got in, I’d send in his acceptance along with my own. I wasn’t giving up hope, not yet.
“Thanks for killing the curve,” Tyler grumbled, holding up his paper with an eighty-six scrawled at the top.
“How’d you do?” I asked Joshua, who sat on my other side in what had been Aidan’s seat.
“Ninety-two,” he answered, looking pleased with himself.
We mimed a high five.
“This will be similar to the Met trip,” Dr. Andrulis continued, back at the front of the classroom now. “You’ll break up into groups of three or four, and each group will take a checklist of pieces I want you see. At the end of the visit, you’ll narrow down your focus to two pieces—a painting, plus something from another medium—and prepare a full report on both, including information about the artist, materials, context, and history.”
Dr. Andrulis kept talking, but I was distracted by a weird tickle in my brain. I sat up straight, shaking my head to clear away the cobwebs, but there it was again.
Please don’t let me have a vision right now, I silently pleaded. I fidgeted in my seat, waiting for the telltale humming in my ears to begin, for the vertigo that followed.
Tyler prodded me with his pen. “Hey, you okay?” he whispered.
I just dropped my head into my hands, my elbows resting on my desk as I willed away the sensation.
“Dr. Andrulis!” Tyler called out beside me, his voice laced with alarm. “Something’s wrong with Violet. I think she needs to go to the nurse.”
No. No, I was fine, just—
Violet?
Oh my God. It was Aidan’s voice, there in my head. Faint and muffled, but undoubtedly his. My heart began to race and I half rose from my seat.
“Aidan?” I didn’t even realize I’d said it aloud until a half dozen heads swiveled in my direction, eyes wide with surprise. “I’m . . . uh, sorry,” I mumbled, sitting back down again, my cheeks flushing hotly.
Aidan? I tried again, silently this time.
Here. That was it, a single syllable, nearly indistinguishable.
Just then, the phone on the wall behind Dr. Andrulis’s desk rang shrilly, startling me so badly that I knocked my notebook to the floor.
While Dr. Andrulis took the call, Tyler slipped out of his seat, kneeling to retrieve my notebook. “What the hell’s going on?” he asked me. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
Joshua leaned toward me. “Did you have a vision or something?”
I shook my head, sure now that I had imagined hearing Aidan’s voice. I must have. Wishful thinking. Otherwise—
“Miss McKenna?” Dr. Andrulis had hung up the phone and was moving down the aisle toward me now. “You’re wanted in the headmistress’s office.”
The headmistress’s office? “Now?” I managed to croak.
“I’m afraid so,” he said, his expression unreadable.
“She’s not feeling well,” Tyler said, laying a steady hand on my shoulder. “I think I should walk her over there.”
Dr. Andrulis nodded, his brow knit with concern. “Yes, she does look rather pale. Go on. I’ll give you a late pass for sixth period.”
I gathered my things with shaking hands. Why the heck was I being summoned, and more important, by whom? Dr. Ackerman? Or did this mean that Mrs. Girard was back? I had no clue what was going on, and I hated walking into a situation blindly.
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?”