Eternal

minutes.”

Joshua nodded. “Sure, no problem. Text me when you’re back inside, and we’ll meet up. Take your time, okay?”

I let out a sigh. “Thanks.” Aidan didn’t say a word as I led him outside into the bracing March chill. I found a stone bench, and we sat in silence for several minutes.

“You’ve got to tell me what’s going on, Aidan,” I said at last, unable to bear it for another moment. “Seriously. I’ll just breach your mind if you don’t. You’re starting to scare me.”

When his eyes met mine, they were slightly unfocused. His jaw was clenched, a muscle working furiously. What the hell?

“This is madness,” he said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be here. I should never have allowed you to agree—”

“You don’t get to make those decisions for me,” I snapped. “Okay? I need you here. Don’t you get that?”

He was wringing his hands now. “You don’t need me. Isabel certainly didn’t need me. Neither of you deserved the fate to which I’ve sentenced you.”

I reached for his hands, stilling them. “Look, I’m not some helpless little opera dancer, okay? Forget about Isabel—that was a hundred years ago. I’m here now, and I can take care of myself.”

He closed his eyes, looking defeated. “You wouldn’t be in any danger if it weren’t for me.”

I let out an exasperated huff. “I’m a Sabbat, remember? Which means I’m going to be in danger pretty much my entire life, whether you’re here or not. So what’s your point?”

“And as a Sabbat, you belong with your Megved. Not me. Never me. He can protect you in ways that I cannot.”

“I am with my Megved. We’ve been training, you know. We’re prepared to face whatever’s coming our way.”

He shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re going to be up against.”

“And you do?”

“They killed her, Violet.” His voice broke on my name. “And there was nothing I could do, no way I could save her.”

“But that’s not going to happen to me. Okay? You’ve got to believe that.”

I was that girl gazing into the mirror, I realized with a start. When Aidan looked at me, he saw Isabel—or, at least, someone who reminded him of his long-lost love. But the reflection that I saw staring back at me was someone entirely different. Stronger. More powerful.

Would Aidan ever see that girl?

“C’mon, you’ve got to give me some credit here,” I said, taking his hand and laying his palm against my cheek. “Have some faith in me. In Matthew.”

He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “I can’t . . . This is ripping me apart. I shouldn’t be here.”

“This is exactly where you should be, Aidan. Here, with me.”

Several seconds passed in silence, Aidan’s ragged breaths beginning to slow.

Finally, he nodded. “You’re right.”

I turned my face into his palm and kissed it. “Thank you,” I murmured. “You know, you probably shouldn’t have come on this trip. You should still be in the infirmary, resting.”

The light was back in his eyes now. “And send you off alone with Joshua and Tyler? Not a chance.”

I leveled a stare at him. “Seriously? In case you didn’t notice, Joshua and Cece have a thing going now.”

“Oh, I noticed.”

“And Tyler . . .” How could I explain Tyler?

“Yes?” he prodded. “Go on.”

“Well, you know how he is. All talk. And you know what? He’s been a good friend to me these past couple of months.”

“I’m sure he has been.”

I shook my head. “Not like that. He needs us, Aidan. I’d really like you to get to know him better. He is working on your cure.”

“Indeed he is. I can’t for the life of me figure out his ulterior motive. I’m certain he has one, though.”

I decided to ignore that. “Are you ready to go back in?” I asked instead. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m freezing my butt off out here.”

He rose, offering me a hand. “God, Violet, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I stood, wrapping my arms around him. “Warm me up?”

“Always,” he said, lowering his lips to mine.

* * *

“I heard Aidan went back to class yesterday,” Matthew said, leaning against his desk. “How’d that go?”

Early for our usual Saturday-morning coaching session, I slumped into the chair across from him. “It was too soon. We took a field trip to MoMA, and I think it was too much for him. I mean, he mostly seems fine. But then someone will say something that just . . . I don’t know . . . affects him weirdly. It’s almost like PTSD or something. He gets this distant look in his eyes, and then he just withdraws. And when I try to drag him back . . .” I trailed off, shaking my head. “He’s suddenly all broody and depressed. You know, like I’m going to die and it’s all his fault. That kind of stuff.”

“Well, there’s no telling what they did to him. You’ve got to expect that he’ll be somehow damaged. For a while, at least.”

I reached up to rub my temples, fighting off a headache. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that we don’t have that much time. Together,” I clarified. “You know, before they send him off to do his Dauphin thing, or whatever.”

“Well, spring break starts next week. Maybe the time away will do him some good.”

“I hope so,” I said on a sigh. Truthfully, I was worried about the trip now. Worried that seeing Whitney would somehow set him back, sending him into a spiraling depression; that Lupe would react badly to his presence; that Aidan and Matthew staying together was a really, really bad idea. There were at least a half dozen things I was worried about, and yet I was excited, too. Talk about crazy.

“You look a little pale,” Matthew said, pushing off his desk and circling around to his chair. “Headache?”

“Yeah. I took something when I got up, but it isn’t helping much.”

“We don’t have to do any training today,” he offered.

“Thanks. I’m feeling a little run-down.”

His dark eyes flooded with concern. “Yeah? Have you seen the nurse? Maybe she can give you some vitamins or something.”

I fought back a smile. “I don’t think vitamins are going to help. But thanks. For the suggestion, I mean.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Are you up for trying something new today?”

“Depends.” I sat up straight, eyeing him curiously. “What did you have in mind?”

“Just testing out our psychic connection. Your birthday’s coming up, after all.”

“Nine more days,” I said with a nod.

“So maybe the bond is strengthening? For starters, I can feel your headache.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, I can. Right here”—he rubbed the same spot on his temples that I’d been rubbing just a few minutes ago—“but worse on the left side. Kind of a pulsing throb.”

He was right. Gooseflesh rose on my skin. “Okay, that’s weird.”

“Right? And I think I’m more in tune with your emotional state, too. Take yesterday, for example. I’m standing there teaching a class, and suddenly for no reason, I feel . . . frustration. For no reason whatsoever.”

“What time? Do you remember?”

“It was the beginning of fourth period. Maybe one-ish?” One fifteen?”

“I was at MoMA then, sitting outside with Aidan. Frustrated that he was all doom and gloom, when fifteen minutes earlier he’d been laughing and joking.”