Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
“They day has come,” I say.
Tobey watches me warily as we prance through the courtyard, basking in the crisp autumn air.
“What day?”
“The day where I have proof.”
“Poof of what, exactly?” Exasperation drips from Caldwell’s voice.
I press my lips together to keep from telling them, ‘I told you so,’ but the words long to come out. I’m on cloud nine.
There’s no reason for me to be this happy, considering our lives are still in danger, but I can’t help it. Even the bright, morning sun can’t bring down my jolly mood.
My sunglasses are probably helping, too.
Tobey doesn’t match my mood. They’ve been considerably damp for the last day or so, but I’m sure the news Jun shared will uplift their spirit.
I steal a glance at them from the corner of my eye. “I have proof that the Order is involved in the murders.”
“Are you going to share the proof?” Caldwell asks, looking unimpressed.
“I am.”
Tobey narrows their eyes. “Well…?”
It’s clear their patience is wearing thin with me, and I suppose I can understand why, but this is my moment. The others may not enjoy my gloating, but I certainly do.
“Amelia was joining the society.”
At last, they react as I expect, exchanging a wide-eyed look.
“I know.” I toss my hair over my shoulder. “If you were looking for proof of the order being tied to the murders, there it is. You’re welcome.”
Amelia, the one who killed Poppy, and the one who wanted to kill Tobey, too. Her being involved with the order, along with the message we received after her death, is all the confirmation I need that we’re going in the right direction…
Thanks to Jun. He’s been more helpful than I ever would have imagined, though I’d like to continue avoiding saying it to his face.
“How do you know?” Tobey asks.
“Jun told me, and Amelia told him. She tried to recruit him, so she must have been in deep. What if she was killing for the Order? In fact, what if the Order left the message on that computer? It all adds up.”
“Wait,” Tobey says, the shock still apparent in their wide eyes.
“But that… would add up.” Caldwell presses his lips together.
“I know.” I hold my head higher, still holding back the gloating words begging to break free.
It’s easier to gloat and ignore what this twist means for my family. My father is involved. There is no way around it and no room for denial. I will have to acknowledge it eventually, but for now, I’ll stay on cloud nine and ignore reality.
“And you’re sure we can trust Jun?” Tobey asks. “I know he’s been helpful and all, but he and Amelia were very close. Like, they were so close I thought they were dating at one point.”
My stomach drops, and I look away from Tobey. I don’t know why the feeling comes up, but my ribs squeeze tight at the thought of Jun and Amelia together.
“Well… that’s because they were dating.”
“Seriously?” Tobey’s lips part. “Amelia made it seem like they weren’t.”
“She was a killer. Not the most trustworthy source.”
“And you still want to trust him, even knowing he was dating her?”
“He has poor taste.” I shrug. “Who among us hasn’t dated the wrong person? I still think we can trust him. He gave us his blood for a ritual. There’s nothing more trustworthy than that.”
“If you say so…”
“I trust him, too,” Caldwell says, surprising me. “If he’s right, this is massive news. We may be moving down the right path. We can stop the murders… and soon.”
After a month of fumbling around aimlessly, it is reassuring to know what our next steps may look like. In a way, this is only confirming what we’ve already suspected, but it’s surprising how freeing the confirmation is.
“I know.” I walk ahead of them with an upbeat gait. “Everything is going as planned.”
There’s no reason for me to be so happy, considering the trials waiting for me and the secrets my family keeps from me. I keep those to myself, not wanting to dampen anyone’s spirit—or my own.
“This was not part of the plan,” Tobey says.
But it doesn’t matter. They can’t bring me down today.
As long as they don’t bring up my father’s involvement.
Jun stands on the stage, wearing an annoying smirk. “Looks like you got what you wanted after all.”
After a strange few days, returning to classes and rehearsals is odd.
The looming promise of trials follows me, but so do Professor Connolly’s words.
Even if the ship is sinking, I will find my fire again.
Ending the death around Strode is one part, but continuing to entertain and give hope while I’m here is, too.
It’s at least of secondary importance.
I have no clue what Jun is chattering about. We’re supposed to work together, in many ways, but he makes it so hard.
“What are you saying?” I ask.
“Charlotte is sick. They’re probably going to ask you to fill in for rehearsals.”
A spark of hope ignites in me. Maybe it’s the fire I’ve been looking for. This doesn’t mean anything for opening night and the shows beyond, but it gives me an opportunity to remember what success tastes like.
“Really?” I ask with stars in my eyes. “I swear, I’ve been practicing her lines whenever I can—”
“Don’t get too excited, princess.” He leans in and whispers, “This is temporary.”
“But, of course.”
“Do you think you can pretend to like me long enough to do this?”
If my talent won’t get me through the rehearsal, defiance will.
“I’m going to make Professor Connolly regret casting Charlotte for the part. That’s how well I’m going to do.”
“You’re fucking devious.” He’s laughing as he steps away, moving into position.
I’ve always been devious with my craft. There’s little I’m unwilling to do if it means bettering myself as an actress. Some may have slipped through the cracks when life or death became a factor because…
Well, it’s this attitude that may have led to Poppy’s death. Maybe if I spent more time with Poppy, she wouldn’t have run off to cohort with other vampires. Dangerous vampires, like Amelia.
“What scene are we performing?” I ask, peering at Professor Connolly.
She sits at a table beneath the stage, watching with a curious expression.
“Today, you’ll work on the moment after Henry is stabbed.
Remember, he’s nearly gone. Your greatest love is at the brink of death.
Make me feel it. I want to see emotion, love, and tension—as you, Ella, heal him with your magic. ”
Ah, yes… it’s an intimate scene.
The room is nearly empty, with only a few other students scattered about. Jun sprawls out on the floor, holding his side, and a low hiss falls past his lips.
“My sweet angel,” I breathe. “What happened? Who could have done this to you?”
My hands rest on top of his.
When his eyes meet mine, it’s with pain—and intensity, the longing of centuries flowing between us.
Like a switch, we’ve turned off who we were and become someone new. These are the moments I feel closest to Jun. On stage, we can move away from our mutual frustrations and step into being another person, playing another role, and living another life.
“Do not think of me,” he says. “You must go. If something happens to you, I cannot find my way to heaven.”
An ironic line for a demon to deliver, but he does so with ease.
“Nor can I,” I say. “Ascending to heaven without you is something I cannot fathom.”
“Do not fret about my fate.”
“Hush.” I push his hands out of the way. “Don’t say such things. If anything is to happen to you, it happens to me as well. Give me the name of the one who took your life. If I cannot save you, I will avenge you.”
I pretend to rub a salve on his invisible wound, working with urgency
“I do not need to give a name.”
“No?”
“You must already know your father was the one to pierce my side, and he did it out of love for you.”
“If he truly loved me, he would not keep me from you.”
The words hit me. My father, the harm he’s caused, and my ignorance of it all—it smashes into my face.
Crying on command isn’t one of my talents, but I don’t need to force it this time. Red tears stream down my cheeks.
Jun’s fingers touch my cool skin, and he wipes my bloody tears without a care. The action isn’t in the script, and most wouldn’t want to touch my bloody cheek, but he doesn’t let it stop him.
He’s an actor, through and through.
Our eyes meet, and I swallow thickly, my chest heaving.
“Nothing can keep us apart.” His eyes flicker shut. “I will see you in the next life. Do not forget me.”
“No!” I press my hands harder against his side, looking up at the ceiling. “Henry! Return to me at once!” The words come out in a choked sob.
My hands lift to the heavens, a last-ditch effort at calling on the gods.
“If there is a God, and if there are many, hear me now. I do not care what it takes. I will give my life, my soul, anything for you to return him to me. Please, give him life.” I choke out a sob, perhaps teetering toward melodrama. “Please!”
It takes a moment for me to realize what I’ve said. God.
I’ve never been able to say the word aloud. It’s difficult for a vampire, or even a demon, to do. We’re damned, and for as long as we feel it, we cannot voice the names of the gods and heaven above.
What does it mean that I can say it now?
“And scene!” Professor Connolly claps her hands together.
This is the point in the play where Ella—my character—sells her soul for her true love. It’s a classic tale, one told in countless productions, both paranormal and human. It would be an honor to play Ella, but alas…
It is not in the cards for me, and Charlotte will do a wonderful job.
I wipe the last of my tears and turn to our professor with a tentative smile.
“That was a superb performance,” she says.
“Margaux, you’ve been working on refining your craft, and I can see it.
In all your years, I have never seen you give such an emotional performance.
Jun, your improvisation was wonderful as well.
Following the mood of the scene is important, and you both managed it to perfection.
But I would like to see more emotion from you next time, Jun. Perhaps Margaux can give you tips.”
The next group of students files to the stage, preparing for the upcoming scene.
I turn to Jun. “I would love to give you tips.”
“I’m sure you would.” He sits upright. “Just don’t kill Charlotte to get close to me, all right?”
Jun stands, offering me his hand. I take it, and I realize I don’t need to go to those lengths. We’re already closer, whether or not we wish to be. Even after I stand, my hand remains in his for a moment, his heat melting my ice, and a genuine smile curls on my lips.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Jun isn’t chasing after me anymore.
We’re walking in the same direction after rehearsals, but he’s several feet behind me. I only know he’s there because of his hulking presence and the heavy sound of his footsteps.
The bag slung over my shoulder is light, but it feels heavier than it should, dragging me with each weighted step.
My skin is more than cold—it’s clammy, sweat collecting on my forehead.
The world outside is an orange sunset, but for me, it turns gray.
And I’m falling.
I don’t realize until I’m already on the ground, with a scalding hand pressed to my forehead.
My eyes flicker, and I see the source of the touch. It’s Jun. Blazing red irises peer at me, and his lips turn into a deep frown.
“What the hell is going on with you?” Jun’s voice is rough and strained.
“Nothing…” I try to sit upright, to no avail.
He pushes gently at my shoulder, keeping me on the ground. “You’re going to make yourself sick again. Relax.”
“I’m not sick.” Despite my complaints, I remain there, my head pressed against the cool stone. My hair splays out beneath me, likely collecting twigs and autumn leaves.
“Then what the fuck is happening?”
“I haven’t been drinking enough, if you must know.”
“And why not?”
“I don’t know!” I’m alert now, if only to focus on the useless argument with Jun. “Things have been changing lately—rapidly—and it slips my mind.”
“Don’t let it slip. This shit is important. It’s not like, I don’t know, missing an assignment.”
“Oh, my God…”
“What?”
“I can’t believe you’re lecturing me.”
“And I can’t believe you’re starving yourself.”
“I’m not!” I clear my throat. “If you must know, I’m used to feeding from live sources. Right now I’m going through a… a…”
“A drought?” He offers the word.
I snort. “Sure. That.”
He snickers, standing upright and holding out a hand. “Come on, princess. Let’s get you on your feet again.”
“I hate you.” But I accept his help, grabbing his hand.
He lifts me easily, his free hand moving to cup my elbow. I have no trouble standing now, but I let the touch linger for several moments.
“You need to stop being so stubborn,” he says.
“I’m trying.”
“Good.” He puts an arm around my shoulder and leads me through the courtyard. “You know… my neck is available.”
I’m left blinking, and he’s the only thing to keep me moving. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t make it weird. We’re partners in this, and I need to make sure you have the energy to come out on top of these trials. Besides, I know you like my blood.”
“No.” I protest too quickly, and the lightheaded feeling returns. It’s different this time. Butterflies fill my stomach. “I don’t. Shut up.”
“All right,” he says. “I won’t push it, but don’t say I never offered.”
He stops outside my dormitory building and smoothly removes his arm from my shoulder. “Go drink, or I’m going to be pissed at you.”
“Oh, no.” I gasp, rolling my eyes. “We can’t have that.”
But I’m already leaving. With any luck, Tobey will accompany me to the dining hall. He’s right. I need to be strong to face the trials ahead of us, and I won’t be if I’m not drinking plenty.