But what kind of mark must that have left on him? He was someone whose sole purpose in life was to defend others—and he’d had to watch someone die on his watch. Now that Adrian had brought her back to life, was it almost like a second chance for Eddie? An opportunity to redeem himself? Maybe that’s why he was so vigilant.
“You look confused,” said Adrian.
I shook my head and sighed. “I think I’m just overthinking things.”
He nodded solemnly. “That’s why I try to never do it.”
An earlier question popped into my head. “Hey, how come you told those girls your name was Jet?”
“Standard practice if you don’t want chicks to find you later, Sage. Besides, I figured I was protecting our operation here.”
“Yeah, but why Jet? Why not . . . I don’t know . . . Travis or John?”
Adrian gave me a look that said I was wasting his time. “Because Jet sounds badass.”
After lunch, we returned Adrian to Clarence’s, and the rest of us went back to Amberwood. Jill and Micah went off to do their own thing, and I convinced Eddie to go to the library with me. There, we staked out a table, and I brought out my laptop.
“So, we found out something interesting when I picked up Adrian today,” I told Eddie, keeping my voice library soft.
Eddie gave me a wry look. “I’m guessing the whole experience of picking up Adrian was interesting—at least from what Jill told me.”
“It could’ve been worse,” I speculated. “At least he was dressed when I got there. And there were only two other Moroi there. I didn’t stumble into a sorority house full of them or anything.”
That made him laugh. “You might have had a harder time getting Adrian out of there if that was the case.”
My laptop screen flared to life, and I began the complicated process of logging into the Alchemists’ mega- secure database.
“Well, as we were leaving, the girls he was with found out that a friend of theirs was killed by Strigoi the other night.”
All humor vanished from Eddie’s face. His eyes went hard. “Where?”
“In LA, not here,” I added. I should’ve known better than to open up the conversation like that without clearly stating beforehand that he didn’t need to be on the lookout for Strigoi on campus. “As far as we know, everyone’s right—Strigoi don’t want to hang out in Palm Springs.”
Eddie became about one percent less tense.
“Here’s the thing,” I continued. “This Moroi girl—this friend of theirs—was allegedly killed like Clarence’s niece.”
Eddie’s eyebrows rose. “With the slit throat?”
I nodded.
“That’s weird. Are you sure that’s what happened—to either of them? I mean, we’re just going off of Clarence’s report, right?” Eddie drummed a pencil against the table as he pondered this. “Clarence is nice enough, but come on. We all know he’s not quite there.”
“That’s why I brought you here. And why I wanted to check this database. We keep track of most Strigoi- related deaths.”
Eddie peered over my shoulder as I brought up an entry on Tamara Donahue from five years ago. Sure enough, she’d been found with a cut throat. Another search on Melody Croft—Krissy and Carla’s friend—also turned up a report from last night. My people had been on the scene and quick to log the information. Melody too had had her throat slit. There had been other reported Strigoi murders in LA—it was a big city, after all—but only two matched this profile.
“Are you still thinking about what Clarence said—about vampire hunters?” Eddie asked me.
“I don’t know. I just thought it was worth checking these out.”
“Guardians weighed in on both of these cases,” said Eddie, pointing at the screen. “They also declared them Strigoi attacks—there was blood taken from both girls. That’s what a Strigoi does. I don’t know what a vampire hunter does, but I just don’t see drinking blood as part of their goal.”
“I wouldn’t think so either. But neither of these girls was drained.”
“Strigoi don’t always finish drinking from their victims. Especially if they’re interrupted. This girl Melody was killed near a club, right? I mean, if her killer heard someone coming, they’d just take off.”
“I suppose. But what about the throat-slitting?”
Eddie shrugged. “We have tons of accounts of Strigoi doing crazy things. Just look at Keith and his eye. They’re evil. You can’t apply logic to them.”
“Um, let’s leave his eye out of this.” Keith wasn’t a case I wanted brought up. I sat back in my chair and sighed. “There’s just something bugging me about all the killings. The half-drinking. The throat-slitting. They’re both strange things happening together. And I don’t like strange things.”
“Then you’re in the wrong profession,” said Eddie, his smile returning.
I smiled back, my mind still turning everything over. “I suppose so.”
When I didn’t say anything else, he gave me a surprised look. “You’re not actually . . . you don’t think there are vampire hunters, do you?”
“No, not really. We have no evidence to think they exist.”
“But . . .” Eddie prompted.
“But,” I said. “Doesn’t the idea freak you out a little? I mean, right now, you know who to look out for. Other Moroi. Strigoi. They stand out. But a human vampire hunter?” I gestured to the students gathered and working in the library. “You wouldn’t know who’s a threat.”
Eddie shook his head. “It’s pretty easy, actually. I just treat everyone as a threat.”
I couldn’t decide if that made me feel better or not.
When I returned to my dorm later, Mrs. Weathers flagged me down. “Ms. Terwilliger dropped something off for you.”
“She brought
By way of answer, Mrs. Weathers handed over a leather-covered book. At first, I thought it was the one I’d just finished. Then I looked more closely at the cover and read
As I was walking down my hall, I heard a few exclamations of alarm from the far end. I could see an open door and a few people huddled around it. Hurrying past my own room, I went to see what the problem was. It was Julia and Kristin’s room. Although I wasn’t sure I really had the right, I pushed my way past some of the frightened onlookers. No one stopped me.
I found Kristin lying on her bed, twitching violently. She was sweating profusely, and her pupils were so large, there was hardly any discernible iris. Julia sat near her on the bed, as did a couple girls I didn’t know so well. She looked up at my approach, her face filled with fear.
“Kristin?” I cried. “Kristin, are you okay?” When no response came, I turned to the others. “What’s the matter with her?”
Julia anxiously refolded a wet cloth and placed it on Kristin’s forehead. “We don’t know. She’s been like this since this morning.”
I stared incredulously. “Then she needs to see a doctor! We need to call someone now. I’ll get Mrs. Weathers—”
“No!” Julia jumped up and caught hold of my arm. “You can’t. The reason she’s like this . . . well, we think it’s because of the tattoo.”
“Tattoo?”
One of the other girls caught hold of Kristin’s wrist and turned it so that I could see the inside. There, tattooed in glittering coppery ink on her dusky skin, was a daisy. I remembered Kristin pining for a celestial tattoo, but last I knew, she couldn’t afford it. “When did she get this?”
