“I guess,” I conceded. I wasn’t worried about her getting expelled—not anymore. The snow I’d seen in my vision was long gone, replaced by the lush green of late spring. “But don’t go for long. I can’t stand seeing you lie there while you’re projecting. It totally freaks me out.”
“Now you know how I feel when you’re having a vision,” she shot back.
“Okay, okay.” I held my hands up in mock surrender. “You better get going before I change my mind.”
With a grin, Cece scooted down on her bed, lying back on her pillow with a sigh. “Why don’t you . . . I don’t know, read a book or something? No hovering.”
“No hovering,” I repeated, hurrying over to my own bed. “Got it. I’ll text Whitney, see what she’s up to.”
“Turn the sound off, though. I need quiet.”
“I know. Sheesh.” I flipped the volume switch on my cell to off. “There. Now go.”
I tried not to watch as Cece began the process of deep breaths and slow exhalations. A couple of minutes passed in relative silence, and then I couldn’t help but peek.
She was entirely still, a peaceful look on her face. My gaze slid down her body, looking for a twitch, a tremble—any sign of life. There was none. She might have been a statue, carved from stone. Clearly, her astral self was gone.
A shiver raced down my spine. I had to take a couple of deep breaths myself as I fought the urge to go over to her and shake her. I still didn’t quite understand exactly how this astral projection thing worked, but I couldn’t help worrying about what would happen if she somehow couldn’t get back to her body. She’d assured me over and over again that there was no danger of that, but it didn’t assuage my fears, not entirely.
I ran a finger over my cell’s slick screen, debating whether or not I should actually text Whitney. With my luck, the second we got into a conversation, Cece would come back. It seemed best to just wait patiently, but the longer she was gone, the more nervous I became.
Setting aside my cell, I rose and padded over to the window, pulling back the curtains to gaze out at the starry night. The full moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow across the lawn and the treetops beyond.
They were out there somewhere, Aidan and Jenna. I hated the thought of them together. Still, I felt stupid for sending Cece out to spy on them. I resisted the urge to look over at the still form lying on the bed—just an empty shell. I wanted to shake her, to tell her that I’d changed my mind. Instead, I leaned against the window, pressing my forehead to the cool glass, and took a deep, calming breath.
In through my nose, out through my mouth. The glass fogged, obscuring my vision as the minutes ticked by. Slowly, one after another, until I didn’t think I could stand it any longer. Hurry, hurry. I tapped my foot impatiently, wanting to retrieve my cell so I could check the time. How many minutes had passed? Ten? Fifteen? I’d totally lost track.
Careful to keep my back to Cece’s body, I shuffled over to my bed and retrieved my cell, then hurried back to the window. I glanced down at the screen with a huff of frustration—only seven minutes had passed. Not nearly enough time for her to have seen anything worthwhile.
I had to distract myself. Keeping the volume off, I checked my e-mail. Then my text messages. Then my social networks. With nothing else left to do, I tapped open a game.
“I’m baaack,” came Cece’s singsong voice behind me just as the game loaded.
Relief washed over me as I turned toward her, watching as she sat up and reached for the bottle of water beside her bed.
She took several long chugs, the plastic crinkling noisily as it emptied. “Whew, I’m thirsty,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of one hand.
I clicked my cell’s volume switch back on and tossed the phone to my bed. “From the projecting?”
“Nah, from the Mexican food at lunch,” she answered with a laugh.
I drummed my fingers on my thighs. “So?”
Her brows drew together. “So, what?”
I gave her a pointed look. “Aren’t you going to tell me what happened out there?”
“Oh, right. Well, first off, I wish I could scrub my eyeballs. Did you know that she strips naked before going wolf?”
“Yeah, I know.” Aidan had told me that last year.
“And she’s certainly not shy. The little skank stripped down to nothing, right there in front of Aidan.”
Of course she did.
Cece winced. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”
“No, it’s fine.” I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. “What did he do?”
“You really want to hear this?”
“I have to,” I said. “Go on.”
She shrugged. “He just watched. I mean, he didn’t look like he was turned on or anything,” she added hastily. “He was just, you know, standing there watching. With his arms folded, looking kind of bored.”
“Uh-huh. Go on.”
“So Jenna does her little striptease and then picks up her clothes and walks over and hands them to him. He’s still just kind of watching her. His eyes were on her face the whole time, I swear.”
I wasn’t entirely sure I believed her, but I motioned for her to continue.
“And then she says, ‘You know, for a vampire you’re not that bad.’ And then she kinda . . . I don’t know . . . runs a finger down the side of his face.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“You said you wanted to hear this,” Cece said haltingly.
I swallowed hard. “I do. Continue.”
“So she says, ‘I don’t have to run tonight.’ Aidan didn’t say anything, so she adds, ‘I’m not fragile like your little pet. You could bite me, if that’s what it takes to turn you on. I’d heal as soon as I shifted.’ I have no idea what she meant by that.”
“I guess shifting speeds up the healing process for her or something,” I speculated, fighting the urge to hunt her down and rip her limb from limb. “So what’d he say to her little proposition?”
Cece glanced down at her hands, suddenly unable to meet my eyes.
Uh-oh.
“Just tell me,” I whispered.
“Fine. Just . . . don’t shoot the messenger, okay? You’re the one who made me spy on them.”
“Tell me,” I repeated.
“He said, ‘Maybe later.’ And next thing I know, Jenna drops to the ground. It was crazy, Violet. It’s like one second she’s her, and the next she’s this . . . this . . . creature. But her eyes”—she shuddered—“they were the same.”
“Maybe later?” My mind was stuck on Aidan’s reply—the details about her shifting seemed irrelevant now. “You’re sure that’s what he said?”
She fiddled with her earrings. “Pretty sure. Not a hundred percent, but . . . yeah, I think that’s what he said. And then . . . well, Jenna-the-wolf just took off running. Aidan sort of wadded up her clothes and went and sat on the bench at the edge of the woods. That’s when I came back.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.” I headed for the door.
Cece half rose from the bed. “Wait, where are you going?”
I didn’t stop to answer her. Instead, I hurried out to the bathroom next door, stopping at the sink to splash cold water on my face.
What was this—payback? Or was there more to their relationship—his and Jenna’s—than Aidan had let on? I couldn’t help but think the latter, since he had no idea that Cece was there, watching and listening. And without an audience, well . . . what kind of payback was that? What was the point if I didn’t know about it? Was it possible that he’d been lying to me about Jenna all along? What other explanation was there?
This time, I really was going to be sick.