“I promise,” he said. “So long as he doesn’t start one.”
“I’ll have him promise too.” I just hoped their “manly” natures wouldn’t get the better of them. As I ruminated on this, something I’d nearly forgotten about tumbled to the forefront of my mind. “Oh . . . Adrian, I’ve got one more favor to ask you. A big one.”
“Fondue?” he asked hopefully.
“No. It’s about Ms. Terwilliger’s sister. . . .”
I told him what I’d learned. The amusement in his face faded and turned to disbelief. “You just mention this now?” he exclaimed when I finished. “That some soul-sucking witch might be after you?”
“She doesn’t know I exist.” I felt surprisingly defensive. “And I’m the only one who can help, at least according to Ms. Terwilliger. She thinks I’m some super-investigator.”
“Well, you do have that Sherlock Holmes thing going for you,” he said. His joking didn’t last; he was too upset. “But you still should’ve told me! You could’ve called.”
“I was kind of busy with Marcus.”
“Then your priorities are off. This is a
I eyed him warily. “What’s that?”
“Let me heal you too.”
I jerked backward, almost more shocked than if he’d suggested hitting me again. “No! Absolutely not! I don’t need it. I’m in better shape than him.”
“You want to go back to Amberwood with that on your face? You’re not going to be able to hide that, Sage. And if Castile sees it, he really will come after Marcus.” Adrian crossed his arms defiantly. “That’s my price.”
He was bluffing, and I knew it. Maybe it was egotistical, but I knew he wasn’t going to let me go into a dangerous situation without him. He did, however, have a point. I still hadn’t seen the mark Marcus had left, but I didn’t want to explain it back at school. And yes, there was a good chance Eddie would want to hunt down my assailant. Being beat up by an avenging dhampir might make working with Marcus difficult.
Yet . . . how could I agree? At least the magic I used was on my terms. And although my tattoo had trace amounts of vampire magic, I took comfort in knowing it was tied to the “normal” four elements, the ones we understood. Spirit was still an unknown entity, with abilities that continually surprised us. How could I subject myself to rogue vampire magic?
Guessing my inner turmoil, Adrian’s face softened. “I do this all the time. It’s an easy spell. No surprises.”
“Maybe,” I said reluctantly. “But each time you use spirit, you’re more likely to go crazy.”
“Already crazy about you, Sage.”
At least this was familiar territory. “You said you wouldn’t bring that up.”
He simply regarded me without comment. Finally, I threw my arms up. “Fine,” I said, with more boldness than I felt. “Just get it over with.”
Adrian didn’t waste any time. Stepping forward, he reached out and rested his hand on my cheek once more. My breath caught and my heart rate went up. It would be so, so easy for him to pull me to him and kiss me again. A tingling warmth spread over my skin, and for a moment, I thought it was just my normal reaction to him. No, I realized. It was the magic. His eyes locked onto mine, and for the space of a heartbeat, we were suspended in time. Then he removed his hand and stepped away.
“Done,” he said. “Was that so bad?”
No, it hadn’t been bad at all. The throbbing pain was gone. All that was left was the constant inner voice nagging me that what had just happened was wrong. That same voice tried to tell me that Adrian had left a taint behind . . . but that was hard to believe from him. I released the breath I’d been holding.
“Thank you,” I said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He gave me one of those small smiles. “Oh, believe me, I did.”
A moment of awkward silence hung between us. I cleared my throat. “Well. We should get back out to Marcus. Maybe we’ll have time for dinner before Sabrina shows up, and you guys can patch things over.”
“I doubt even a moonlight stroll would fix things between us.”
His words reminded me of something else I’d meant to bring up when he got back to town, something that had taken a very low priority. “Your coat—you never took it back after the wedding. It’s in my car.”
He waved dismissively. “Keep it. I’ve got others.”
“What am I going to do with a wool coat?” I asked. “Especially here in Palm Springs?”
“Sleep with it,” he suggested. “Think of me.”
I put my hands on my hips and tried to stare him down, which wasn’t easy since he was so tall. That, and because his words suddenly returned me to the disorienting feeling I’d had sitting on his bed. “You said you weren’t going to bring up any romantic stuff around me.”
“Was that romantic?” he asked. “I was just making the suggestion, since the coat’s so heavy and warm. I figured you’d think of me since it was such a nice gesture. And yet, once again, you’re the one who finds romantic subtext in everything I say.”
“I do not. You know that’s not what I meant.”
He shook his head in mock sympathy. “I tell you, Sage. Sometimes I think I’m the one who needs to take out the restraining order on
“Adrian!”
But he was already out the door, knowing laughter echoing behind him.
CHAPTER 8
I THINK ADRIAN WOULD’VE gone hunting Ms. Terwilliger’s sister with me then and there. Amberwood’s curfew wouldn’t allow it, and besides, it was something I wanted to do in daylight. To his credit, he did heal Marcus without them getting into a fistfight, so that was progress. Marcus lost a little of his animosity and tried to engage Adrian in conversation about what spirit could do. Adrian gave wary responses and looked relieved when Sabrina showed up to take Marcus away. He gave me a mysterious farewell, simply saying he’d text me soon about the “next stage.” I was too tired to ask for more details and headed back to my dorm to sleep off what had been a pretty crazy day.
I was awakened at the crack of dawn by heavy pounding at my door. I squinted at the clock, grimacing when I saw that it was an hour earlier than I usually got up. I stayed in bed, hoping whoever it was would go away. If there was something really urgent happening, someone would’ve called me on my cell phone. The display showed no missed calls, however.
Unfortunately, the knocking didn’t stop. With a feeling of dread, I finally dragged myself up, half-afraid of what I’d find outside my door.
It was Angeline.
“Finally,” she said, inviting herself into my room. “I thought you’d never answer.”
“Sorry,” I said, shutting the door behind her. “I was busy sleeping.”
She walked right up to my bed and sat down like she owned it. I really didn’t know her schedule, but she always struck me as a late riser. Apparently not today. She was dressed in a school uniform, with her brilliant red hair pulled back in what was, for her, a rather tidy ponytail.
“I have a problem,” she said.
My feeling of dread grew. I turned on my coffeemaker, which I always had ready with fresh grounds and water. Something told me I was going to need a cup to get through this. “What’s going on?” I asked, settling into my desk chair. I made no attempt at even guessing. When it came to Angeline, her problems could range from throwing a desk in rage or accidentally spilling hydrochloric acid on another student. Both had happened recently.
“I’m failing math,” she said.
This was unwelcome but not unexpected news. Angeline’s mountain community, while still educating its
