Eternal

that I was crazy—that I was just feeling sorry for myself. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling, even with—

That thought cut off abruptly as I gripped the edge of the table, my vision tunneling, the familiar hum in my ears drowning out the cafe’s din.

I was in a ballet studio. There were floor-to-ceiling mirrors along one wall, a long wooden barre on the opposite one. In the room’s corner, a gray-haired woman sat behind an enormous grand piano, playing what sounded like a slow waltz.

I looked around, trying to orient myself, to figure out why I was there. And then I saw Whitney, third from the end. She was wearing a black sleeveless leotard and pink tights, her blond hair pulled back severely in a bun. The sunlight streaming in through the long, rectangular windows told me that it was daytime, but there were no clues to mark the season. No holiday decorations, I noted. No calendar on the wall.

I turned my attention back to Whitney, who looked markedly pale and thin as she slowly lifted one leg up toward her ear. I could sense her struggle, her jaw clenched tightly as sweat poured down the sides of her face. And then her standing leg buckled. She collapsed to the floor, the back of her head striking it with a sickening thud.

Chaos ensued as girls in leotards surrounded her, looking terrified. An older woman—the dance teacher, maybe—knelt by her side, checking her pulse. “Is she breathing?” someone asked.

“Yes, but it’s shallow. Someone call 911!”

One girl nodded and ran toward the door.

“Does anyone know if she’s eaten anything today?” the older woman asked.

“I . . . I don’t think so,” a tall, dark-haired girl answered. “She just had some coffee at lunch.”

And then, just like that, I was back in the cafe. Tyler was standing beside me, a steadying hand on my shoulder. “Hey, that’s one way to get my attention,” he said. “You okay? I thought you were going to fall out of your chair.”

I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Yeah, I’m . . . I just had vision, that’s all.”

“How bad?” Cece asked.

“Pretty bad,” I muttered.

Cece stood up, pushing aside her empty mug. “Let’s get you back to the dorm, then. You look really pale.”

I started to protest, but decided against it. I really did feel queasy. Instead, I nodded, reaching for my bag as Tyler helped me to my feet.

“Who’s walking back with us?” Cece asked, glancing around the table.

Every single one of my friends clambered to their feet, pushing aside plates and mugs and gathering their belongings. Suddenly, I didn’t feel alone at all. I wasn’t, and I never would be.

Not at Winterhaven.

* * *

“Want to try this one more time?” Matthew asked.

I nodded, wiping the sweat from my brow with the hem of my T-shirt. “Yeah, once more. Tyler, you okay?”

“Couldn’t be better,” he said, rising from the chapel’s pew.

I had to admit he was being a good sport, allowing me to wale on him repeatedly as he played the role of vampire in today’s training session. “You sure?” I asked, noticing that he was moving much more slowly now.

He raised his shirt, exposing the broad expanse of his chest—which now sported a faint purplish blue bruise over his heart. “Hey, I look hot in purple, right?”

“Sorry about that,” I said with a wince. I wasn’t using my stake—just my closed fist, and a little too much brute force by the looks of it. “I’ll take it easy on you this time.”

“Nah, you gotta stake ’em hard, remember?”

“I remember.” Did I ever.

“Okay, back to our starting positions,” Matthew ordered. He had precisely choreographed our every move, and it was Tyler’s job to respond differently each time, changing up the variables. Of course, considering the fact that Matthew couldn’t really throw his dagger into Tyler’s eye any more than I could stake him, we just had to hope that our practiced movements would create the desired effect—namely, a destroyed vampire.

Once Matthew gave the signal, we went through the motions again—Tyler turned, ducked this time, and then wheeled around, coming up behind us. Matthew made a quick half turn on the balls of his feet, lifted one arm, and mimed throwing the baselard at its target. As soon as Tyler reacted, Matthew caught him in a headlock, holding him upright and immobilized while I executed the deathblow to his heart.

It was over in a matter of seconds, effectively illustrating that, in a real-life situation, there’d be no time to think, only to react. I would have to rely on my ability to breach a vampire’s mind, to know his intentions—and then make a snap judgment.

Over the past several Saturdays, we’d pretty much come to an agreement on what would earn a vampire’s death sentence. Any intent to kill or inflict serious harm—any malicious intent whatsoever—and they were toast, as was any vampire who posed a threat to us, both real or imagined. We couldn’t afford to take any chances. But beyond that? It was going to be my call.

Matthew and I had also worked on devising a series of hand signals so that we could communicate nonverbally. It all seemed so surreal—I hoped we’d never have to put any of this training to use. But if we did, well . . . at least I was starting to feel prepared.

I glanced down at Tyler, who was lying on the ground clutching his chest. “Sorry about that. I tried to take it easy on you this time.”

“Yeah, sure you did.” He groaned as he dragged himself to a sitting position. “Oh, man. How did I let y’all talk me into this?”

I just shrugged and lowered myself to the ground beside him.

“Feel free to kiss it and make it better,” he offered, smiling wickedly now. “You know, if it’ll help ease your conscience and all.”

I rolled my eyes. “In your dreams, Bennett. Are we done?” I asked Matthew.

“Yeah, that’s it for today.” He was already reaching for his jacket. “I’ve got to run to a dorm masters’ meeting. I’ll see you both later, okay?”

“Have fun,” I called out, then collapsed onto my back, staring up at the chapel’s ceiling.

Tyler flopped onto his back beside me. “Later, Dr. B.”

Matthew’s footsteps receded, and then the heavy door slammed shut.

“You should probably ice that,” I said to Tyler. “You know, to keep the bruising down.”

“Nah. I’ll wear it as a badge of honor. If anyone asks me what happened, I’ll just say that you got a little rough with me. Make ’em wonder.”

I turned my head to glare at him, but he just grinned back at me. “You wouldn’t dare,” I said.

“You know me better than that, Vi. Course I would.”

“You want to get Kate mad at me?”

“Aw, you don’t have to worry about Kate. I’m pretty sure she’s moved on to greener pastures. Of the ex- boyfriend kind.”

“Speaking of that, what happened last weekend at the dance? With you and Kate, I mean. I thought you two were going together.”

“Nah. She needs time to sort stuff out. You know how it goes.”

“I guess,” I said with a shrug.

“Anyway, Max’s band was playing a set, so I helped them out with equipment and stuff.”

“Oh, yeah? You’re one of his roadies now?” I teased.

“Hey, I’m his best roadie. His only roadie.” He reached for my ponytail and gave it tug. “How are you holding up? Seriously, I’m worried about you.”

I sighed heavily. “I’m okay. I feel better since I talked to Whitney. Did I tell you that she’s agreed to enter some sort of program?”

“An eating disorder thing?”

“Yeah. It’s just an outpatient program, but it’s better than nothing. I think she’s taking it pretty