“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
For 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.”