Eternal

several times, trying to get my bearings as my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. We were standing on a familiar white-columned porch lit by hanging brass lamps.

“The club?” I asked, surprised. “We’re having dinner here?”

“Your gran said it was nice,” Aidan answered with a shrug.

“It’s very nice.” Probably the most exclusive country club in the South—one of them, at least—and my family had been members for generations. I loved coming to the club, loved its formal elegance. I was suddenly glad Gran had suggested it. “But it’s only five minutes from Gran’s house. We were driving around for almost a half hour!”

He dipped his head closer to my ear. “Perhaps I wanted to keep you in that blindfold for as long as possible,” he whispered, his British accent more evident now. “I was enjoying imagining the possibilities. For later, perhaps?”

Heat flooded my cheeks, my pulse rocketing up to an alarming rate. I had the sudden urge to get this boy alone, and fast.

“Miss McKenna!” one of the tuxedo-clad hosts called out, interrupting my enjoyable train of thought. The man hurried over to us with a solicitous smile while I struggled to force my expression back to neutral. “Your grandmother told us to expect you. I’m afraid your table isn’t quite ready yet. If you’ll just follow me, I’ll find you a quiet place to wait.”

“That’d be great, thanks.” It was a little weird, actually, as my family had had a reserved table for as long as I could remember, but whatever. I glanced up at Aidan, who grinned at me with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

I can hear your heart, he said inside my head. Beating awfully fast now, isn’t it?

Shut up. I nudged him in the ribs as we followed the host down the long hallway, past the main dining room on the right, and turned left instead. He opened a door and motioned for us to enter.

Only, something wasn’t right. Instinctively, I reached for my bag, wanting my stake. But then I remembered that I’d left it at home, that I had only my silly little clutch.

Crap.

Reluctantly, I took a step though the doorway and then froze, one hand gripping Aidan’s sleeve. My heart thrummed against my ribs, my breath coming faster as I noticed that the room—the ballroom, if I remembered correctly—was completely dark.

Dark room. No stake. I didn’t like this, not one bit. My panic ratcheted up a notch, and I struggled to tamp it down, to calm my breathing.

Aidan reached for my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Everything’s fine,” he said, dragging me forward now.

What the—

“Surprise!”

The crystal chandeliers flickered to life, the ballroom suddenly full of light—and people. Tons of people.

I let out my breath in a rush, relief washing over me as I glanced around the room, ticking off the familiar faces as they launched into an enthusiastic chorus of “Happy Birthday.”

Whitney, Sophie, Tyler. Cece and Joshua. Marissa and Max. Kate and Jack. A dozen or so of my old friends from Windsor Day, including a couple of guys from the fencing team. A few of Whitney’s ballet buddies whom I’d gotten friendly with over the years.

And there in the back, standing beside a cut-glass punch bowl, was Matthew, one hand resting on the back of Gran’s wheelchair. Beside them, Lupe and Melanie. Whitney’s parents, even.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I took it all in—the colorful decorations, a table piled high with presents, a DJ set up in the back, an enormous cake beside the punch bowl. Round tables were set with lavender and cream- colored linens; china place settings gleamed beside heavy silverware and crystal glasses. In the center of each table sat a floral arrangement. I could smell them, even from where I stood just inside the door—orange blossoms.

Aidan bent his head toward mine, his breath warm against my ear. “Happy birthday, love.”

19 ~ Dance of the Devil

I still can’t believe he pulled this off,” I said, my gaze fixed on Aidan as he stood by the punch bowl, deep in conversation with Matthew, Tyler, and Sophie. About science stuff, I supposed.

Cece licked the remaining frosting off her fork and set it back on her plate. “Let’s just say he was driven. He started planning it the day he got back.”

“And you!” I said, turning toward Whitney, who sat on my other side. “Clearly his partner in crime. I can’t believe you didn’t give me some kind of heads-up.”

“No way. I was sworn to silence,” Whitney said with a smile. Surprisingly enough, she seemed perfectly at ease in Aidan’s company, despite what had happened over Christmas break. I could only assume that the Aidan Effect had something to do with it, but whatever the case, I was grateful. And I was happy to see that her cheeks were more rounded now than the last time I’d seen her. She hadn’t touched the cake, of course, but she had eaten a few bites of dinner—steak and lobster tails with garlic mashed potatoes and French carrots.

As soon as we’d finished dinner and cut the cake, Gran and the other adults had left—well, except Matthew. The DJ was just starting to crank up the music. And I was ready, my feet tapping to the beat beneath the table as one of my favorite songs started playing.

“Who gave the DJ the playlist?” I asked.

“Aidan put you in charge of music, didn’t he, Cece?” Whitney asked.

Cece nodded, looking gorgeous in a pale pink sheath. “Marissa and Max helped too. A group effort, really.”

“I still can’t believe it.” I shook my head in amazement. “I mean, you all flew to Atlanta just for this?”

Cece widened her eyes in mock surprise. “What do you mean, just for this? This is huge. Epic. Your eighteenth birthday!”

“You didn’t have a big birthday blowout,” I pointed out. We’d quietly celebrated Cece’s eighteenth just last month with cupcakes at the cafe. She’d refused to make a big deal out of it.

“Yeah, but you know”—she sighed heavily—“things were still kind of sober then. Anyway, I didn’t turn into some badass vampire slayer on my eighteenth birthday. You gotta own it, girl.”

I just shrugged, not quite sure I felt all that different than I had the day before, at least where vampires were concerned. I mean, yeah, I had my mark now and the bracelet. Still, it felt more like an easing-in type situation at this point. One by one, the pieces falling into place.

All this buildup leading to my eighteenth birthday, as if everything was going to change—as if I was going to change—just because I’d reached the magical age. Maybe I’d been worrying over nothing.

“Where are y’all staying, anyway?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

“Same hotel as Aidan and Dr. Byrne. Aidan arranged all the rooms and everything. We’re flying out tomorrow afternoon, though. Sophie, Max, and Marissa are headed down to Saint Bart’s. Oh, and Tyler, too.”

“What? You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” Cece said. “I think something’s going on with his mom. He didn’t want to go home, and since he and Max are roommates and all . . . well, you know. It just made sense.”

The idea that Tyler might be working his way through my friends—first Cece, then Kate, then Sophie—made me uncomfortable. On the other hand, he’d gone on only one or two casual dates with Cece, and as far as I could tell, there wasn’t anything going on with him and Sophie.

At least, not yet.

Cece obviously sensed my hesitation. “You don’t think he and Sophie . . . you know?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “Do you? I mean, it’s not like it matters, right?”