Eternal

He swept one hand in a grand gesture. “Hey, don’t let me stop you. I’m all for girls falling at my feet.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Tyler,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Minus that annoying Texas drawl, I should hope.”

“Hey, I’m a Georgia peach, remember?” I laid on my accent as thick as possible, drawing out each syllable. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with a drawl.”

Aidan sat on the edge of the daybed, holding out a hand to me. “Come here, then, Georgia peach.”

I complied, settling myself beside him. I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed, feeling my tense muscles relax as I inhaled his familiar scent. “Thank you,” I said, realizing just how much my mood had improved since I’d walked through that door.

“For what?”

“For making me smile. I needed that.”

“It’ll get easier, Vi. Just take it one day at a time.”

I nodded. “I know.” After all, I was no stranger to loss. Neither was Aidan. Maybe it was why we worked so well. “Do you mind if I put on some music?” I asked, reaching into my back pocket to retrieve my cell.

“Breaking the rules again, I see.”

“I figured since I was already breaking a big one by coming to your room, I might as well go all out. Anyway, I’m obsessed with this song. Makes me think of you,” I added, hitting play.

The opening notes of my current favorite song began to play—low, quiet. Melodious. A tambourine joined the acoustic guitar and mandolin as the tempo increased.

“Ugh, angsty Irish rock,” Aidan said dismissively as the chorus began, and I looked up at him in surprise.

“They’re not Irish,” I said.

“Scottish? Welsh?”

I narrowed my eyes. “They’re from Colorado. You don’t like this song?”

“It has a boring beat,” he grumbled.

“A simple beat,” I corrected. “But the lyrics . . .” I trailed off, unable to put my thoughts into words. The lyrics were simply . . . perfect.

“I can’t get past the beat to hear the lyrics,” he said.

“Okay, whatever,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender.

Aidan reached for my right hand. Turning it over, he ran the pad of his thumb over my now fully healed tattoo. “I’d almost forgotten about this. It really does look nice, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. “I love it.”

He released my hand, looking thoughtful now.

“What is it?” I asked.

His gaze met mine, and only then did I notice the faintest trace of red creeping in. The sight should have frightened me, but it didn’t. “I’m sorry your birthday was ruined,” he said at last. “I had such plans for after. Our own private party.”

“I know.” My pulse leapt, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Tell me, Vi,” he said, his brow knitted as he trailed a finger down the side of my face. “Do you believe in the whole concept of soul mates?”

I shook my head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I mean, you just threw me off there with that whole music thing,” I added with a smile.

“I think most people misinterpret the concept,” Aidan began hesitantly. “They expect that their soul mate will be just like them. You know, that a soft, gentle intellectual will fit only with another soft, gentle intellectual. Or a fiery personality can match only another fiery personality. But I think it’s just the opposite, that soul mates are more like two sides of a coin.”

“Oh, really?” I said, intrigued now. It was clear that he’d put a lot of thought into this.

The corners of his mouth twitched with a smile. “Yes, really. And you and I . . . well, we’re so very different, aren’t we? And yet . . . that connection between us was almost instantaneous. You’re the lightheartedness to my solemnity, the spontaneity to my careful planning, the light to my dark. If you’re heads, then I’m tails. Together we’re a whole. Maybe that’s what a soul mate truly is.”

My eyes were damp, I realized, swiping them with the back of my hand. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” I asked.

He leaned toward me, his forehead against mine. “I’ve a pretty good idea of it,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Which is why I should probably get you out of here.”

I knew he was right, and yet I couldn’t help but dip my head lower, brushing my lips against his mouth. I heard his breath catch in his throat, felt him clench his hands into fists by his sides. Still, I opened my mouth against his, needing to taste him, my soul mate.

I was breathless when I finally pulled away, my skin flushed all over, my lips slightly swollen and bruised. Lifting one trembling hand, I traced his bottom lip with my index finger, wincing as I made contact with one sharp, elongated canine.

“I could really use that cure right about now.” Aidan groaned, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“Have you fed lately?” I asked.

“Yeah. That’s not the problem, I’m afraid.” He closed his eyes, taking several deep, calming breaths.

It was those dual needs, I realized—bloodlust tied to desire. He wouldn’t risk biting me again.

“Time to change the subject, then.” My mind cast about for a solution. And then I remembered. “Paris! Patsy said my acceptance came. You know, from AUP. What about you? Did you check online?”

“I totally forgot,” he said. “Anyway, what’s the point? Now that I’ve agreed to this whole Dauphin thing—”

“Because we’re going to cure you, that’s why. Go on.” I waved a hand toward his laptop. “Check right now.”

Just like that, the red receded from his eyes, his teeth fully normal now. He rose, making his way to the desk. Leaning over it, he opened his laptop’s browser and logged on to the university’s application system. A few clicks of the mouse later and he turned back toward me. “Looks like I’m in too,” he said without a trace of emotion.

I let out a sigh, a flicker of hope igniting in my chest. For now, I’d just go along with the assumption that everything would work out—that he’d do his Dauphin thing, set the vampire world back in order, and return to Paris, where we’d have his cure waiting. That was the plan, and I was sticking to it.

“So,” I said, unable to suppress a smile. “Let’s talk about living arrangements in Paris. Roommates, right?”

At first I thought he was going to continue to argue with me over the futility of the situation. So I nearly wept with relief when he returned my smile instead. “Did I ever mention that I own an apartment in Paris? In the seventh arrondissement, right near AUP. A very nice view of La Tour Eiffel.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shook his head. “Not kidding. Roomie,” he added with a grin.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Remember how we talked once about going on a graduation trip? You know, to Brompton Park. Your old house,” I added unnecessarily, as if he didn’t know.

“You really want to go there?”

“Definitely. Let’s all go. Cece and Sophie and Marissa. The guys too. I think we could all use a little vacation after . . . well . . .” I swallowed hard. I couldn’t say her name, couldn’t bear to bring it up again. “We can pool our money and rent out the house for a week. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” he said with a nod. “If it’ll make you happy.”

“Very happy. Here”—I reached for the mouse on his laptop—“go to the UK Trust website and look it up. Let’s see when it’s available.”

He quickly typed in a search and opened the page. I watched as he clicked through, opening up the calendar. My heart sank when I saw the red X’s. “Crap, it’s booked the week after graduation. But look, not the week after that.”

“You want to go talk to your friends? Have them ask their parents and check on airfare. Don’t worry about