EIGHTEEN

VICTORIA SKIPPED SCHOOL. So did Mary Ann, and so did Riley. What kind of students ditched class when it was only their second day at school? And what about supposed rule-follower Mary Ann? She sure was ditching a lot lately.

Were the three of them together? Aden wondered throughout the crapfest of a day. A day that had started with Ozzie threatening to kill him again and worsened when Shannon, coughing and weak, had insisted on coming to school anyway and Aden had practically had to carry him to the building. And then to discover that his friends were gone…

Now he desperately wanted to leave, to head out and look for them, but couldn’t. Not if he wanted to return. A single ditch, and Dan would send him packing. Victoria could fix that for him, of course, but only if she still wanted to hang out with him. After last night—I told you to stay away from me and I meant it, she’d said after spying the male vampire in the window—he couldn’t be sure.

Who had the guy been? Why the sudden change in Victoria? He had no answers. And hadn’t Victoria wanted to protect him from the creatures now in town? Guess that had changed, too.

What made the day even odder was the way everyone waved and smiled at him as if he was their best friend. Guys patted him on the shoulder, girls flashed their pearly whites and giggled as if they were too nervous to talk to him but wanted to be near him all the same. Why?

As if reading his mind, a senior walked by and said, “Way to put Tucker in his place, man,” with a nod of approval.

Ahh. Now he understood (the welcome reception, at least). No one had liked Tucker, but they’d pretended to, simply to keep the tyrant from turning all that evil on them. Now they thought Aden was their savior, that he would destroy Tucker if necessary.

No pressure, he thought dryly.

All through chemistry, geometry, and Spanish he half listened to his teachers, half listened to his companions, who were now awake and no longer drugged into a stupor by the meds—though truth be told, he had been tempted to take them this morning. During that third class, John O’Conner once more appeared beside him, crouching at his desk.

“Why do you always ambush me here?”

“Because I had this class with Chloe. Speaking of, have you talked to Chloe yet?”

Aden spared him only the briefest of glances. He looked so real. Or perhaps because he was so recently dead. Perhaps because he’d had a power of his own when he’d been alive.

Aden nodded at the rightness of the thought. That made sense. He drew vampires and werewolves—and goblins, fairies and witches, apparently—so why not ghosts who’d been “gifted” during life? Or did he draw all ghosts, gifted or not?

Surely not. Thousands of people died every minute of every day. If all ghosts came to him, he would never see anyone or anything else.

He wanted to question John, but they were in class and surrounded. He’d just have to do so stealthily, he decided, so that the teacher and students around him wouldn’t notice.

John babbled about Chloe while Aden considered his options. He couldn’t speak out loud, not even in a whisper. He didn’t know sign language, and even if he did, John might not. He couldn’t leave the classroom; because of his past, he wasn’t allowed to roam the halls during class time. What option did that leave him? A note?

A note! Of course. He lifted his pen and began writing. When you were alive, did you have a—how should he word this?—superpower? He swirled the paper around and slid it toward John.

John continued speaking, oblivious.

Aden tapped the page, keeping his gaze on the teacher.

“What? Oh. You want me to read that?”

He nodded.

A moment passed in silence. Then, “Nah. Not really. I mean, I could sense other people’s emotions, which really freaked me out, but that isn’t a superpower. It was just me being too sensitive. Like a pansy, as my dad would say. That’s why, I, you know, self, uh, medicated.”

An empath. John had been an empath. Aden knew about them only because he’d met another boy with a similar ability in one of the institutions and that boy had studied the ability in an effort to stop feeling so much, so strongly.

“What does my pansy factor have to do with anything?” John asked. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. I need you to talk to Chloe for me. I want you to tell her what I can’t.”

He could have resisted. He still didn’t know what would happen if he failed, or even if he succeeded. But right now he was John’s only link to the living, and he knew what it was like to want something desperately but be unable to have it. Okay, he wrote.

John sucked in a breath. “Really? You’ll talk to her?”

He gave another nod.

“You swear?”

Another nod.

“Today?”

Nod. What do you want me to tell her?

“If you’re lying…” John balled his fists and slammed them against Aden’s desk. The intensity of his emotion must have given him some solidity, because Aden’s desk rattled. As the students around him jolted, John said, “I’ll follow you. I swear I will. I’ll haunt you until you do it.”

Aden tapped his finger against the question.

John’s anger melted, dejection taking its place. “Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I didn’t use her, that I…loved her. I did.”

Aden’s brow creased in confusion.

Shame coasted over the boy’s face. “We didn’t hang with the same people, but I asked her out on a dare. I never expected to like her. But I did. Her emotions are so pure, you know? Not overpowering. Then she overheard my friends teasing me about her. They wanted her to hear. Planned for her to, I think.”

John stared down at his wringing hands. “God, man. Her devastation…I can still feel it. It’s like I soaked it up and it became a part of me. I tried to talk to her, to explain, but she wanted nothing to do with me. I was desperate to forget, to feel nothing, you know, and did something stupid. Now, here I am.” His voice trailed off, perhaps too shaky to work past his throat, and he coughed in renewed embarrassment.

“—Mr. Stone?”

Aden straightened in his seat. The teacher was holding out a piece of chalk. “I’m sorry, what?”

I’ve been listening to him, Eve said, always the one to his rescue. He asked you to conjugate the verb run in Spanish.

“Never mind,” Aden muttered, pushing to his feet. He approached the head of the class with trepidation. “Sí, señor” was the only Spanish he knew.

Good luck, Caleb said. I could tell you the color underwear the blonde to your right is wearing—rojo. That means red, by the way. But that’s all I know.

“I’ll help,” John said, keeping pace beside him.

Thank God. With John telling him what to write, Aden managed to impress the teacher for the first time. He didn’t feel guilty about cheating, either. As he’d listened to John and written what he’d heard, he’d learned.

Halfway back to his seat, the bell rang. Crap. He wasn’t finished talking to John. He quickened his step, swiped up his backpack, then lifted the pad and pen and wrote, Since I’m helping you with Chloe, will you help me? I need a bottle of nail polish.

John barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t peg you as the type.”

He shook his head as kids filed past him, jaw locked together, cheeks heating. It’s for a girl. Last night after Victoria had left him so abruptly, he’d started to think. She had to paint her fingernails with that metal to protect herself from…he couldn’t recall the name of the liquid in her ring, but she could paint her toenails and she loved color, so…

Still laughing, John asked, “Any particular color?”

Doesn’t matter, he wrote. As long as it’s not black. If you can’t, I’ll—

“Oh, I can. I’ve learned a few tricks these last few months. And I happen to know where Mr. White keeps all the bottles the teachers confiscate from the students.”

Has to be unopened, never used.

“Mr. Stone. The bell rang,” the teacher, Señor Smith, said impatiently. “You need to leave.”

“Never used won’t be a problem,” John said.

Aden crossed the room to the door. John remained beside him until he hit the hallway, then disappeared.

Time to hunt for Chloe. It was now lunch, so she should be in the cafeteria. He’d planned to sneak off campus and into the forest for an hour—searching for Victoria rather than Riley this time—but that would have to wait. He’d given John his word. And he wanted that nail polish.

Something slammed into his shoulder, and his bag went flying. Suddenly Tucker loomed in front of him, scowling, pure menace. Determined. “Watch where you’re going, Crazy.”

He ground his teeth. “Get out of my face, Tucker.” He didn’t need the threat of Tucker now, on top of the threat Ozzie still presented. Not to mention all the creatures newly arrived in town.

“What’ cha gonna do about it, huh? No one’s here to save you this time.”

The world around him faded, another taking its place. This one was an empty alleyway, redbrick walls colored with graffiti. There was a Dumpster and rats ran along the edges. In the background, he could even hear the wail of a police siren. What the hell?

“It’s just you and me now,” the jock said, smug.

Aden saw the way Tucker’s eyes were swirling, the gray laced with sizzling silver. This had to be an illusion, he realized grimly. Tucker had tried before, but it hadn’t worked. This time, Mary Ann wasn’t standing next to him. This time, there was nothing to negate Tucker’s power. Except…

Riley somehow always negated Mary Ann’s negation, allowing Aden’s companions to talk and act even in her presence. Tucker had tried the spider thing when both had been around him, yet had failed. Shouldn’t that mean Tucker simply couldn’t use his ability against Aden, no matter who was or was not with him?

Lost in thought as he was, he was unprepared when Tucker shoved him and went flying backward. He tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground. Though his eyes told him he’d hit a brick wall, that wall jumped away from him with a curse. Had he actually hit a person?

Tucker grinned, and there was an evil edge to it. “This is gonna be fun.”

As Aden popped to his feet, Tucker launched forward. Back to the ground he went, but this time he rolled, pinning Tucker’s shoulders. He drew his knees up, straddling Tucker’s waist, holding him down.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he snarled.

“Chicken?” Tucker jerked his arms free, grabbed hold of his shoulders and tossed him aside.

Just determined to stay here. He stood, fingers curling into fists. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? I’ve never done anything to hurt you.”

“Go ahead.” Tucker stood, too. “Get up and walk away. I’ll just follow you. I’ll be your new shadow. Every time you turn around, there I’ll be, my fist in your face. Then, when I’m done with you, I’ll turn on Mary Ann. After that, I’ll go after that new chick, Victoria. She’ll—”

Aden roared, his rage springing up, spilling over. Tucker’s eyes widened as Aden’s fist came at him. Contact. Cartilage snapped and blood poured. Tucker howled in pain.

Stop, Eve said. You have to stop. He’s just taunting you, trying to force you into this fight so you’ll be kicked out of school.

Aden was past the point of listening. No one threatened his friends. Him, sure. He’d dealt with threats his entire life. But Mary Ann was too delicate, Victoria too…his. He drew back his fist for another punch, but stopped when Tucker’s image changed, shifting into Mary Ann’s. He blinked in confusion.

Next thing he knew, a fist was connecting with his nose. Again, cartilage snapped and blood poured. His own. He felt a sharp sting, then nothing as adrenaline surged through his bloodstream.

Destroy him, Caleb said.

No matter whose face he shows you, attack, Julian added.

Eve is right, Elijah said, trying to be the voice of reason. He’s provoking you on purpose. Only reason he hit you back is because his own temper is too volatile to control.

In the distance, Aden thought he heard kids cheering. He just couldn’t see anyone. So badly he wanted to whip out his daggers, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to kill Tucker. He just wanted to stop him. Perhaps humiliate him in the process.

Aden crouched and leapt, arms wrapping around Tucker’s middle and propelling him into the wall. Cocky laughter filled his ears. When he straightened, drawing his elbow back, he saw that Tucker now looked like Victoria.

Not her, not her, not her. Aden threw his punch, Tucker’s eyes widening as it neared. No longer was he fighting fairly. He hit Tucker in the throat, cutting off his air. The boy hunched over, trying to breathe. Aden then kneed him in the face, cracking his cheekbone and sending him to his back, where he writhed on the ground.

Aden leapt on top of him. Over and over he beat his fists into Tucker’s face. Teeth cut his skin, but he didn’t care. After a while, Tucker stopped writhing. Then stopped moving. “You don’t ever threaten Mary Ann. You don’t ever threaten Victoria. Do you understand me?”

“Aden,” Victoria said softly from behind him.

An illusion, he told himself, continuing to punch and punch and punch. Victoria had told him to leave her alone. Victoria wasn’t even at school.

Gentle hands settled on his shoulders, inexorably hot. “You have to stop.”

He whipped around, ready to attack this new illusion when he noticed the alley had vanished and the halls of the school had once again appeared. Kids were all around him, no longer cheering. Not even smiling. They were gazing at him in horror. In fear.

Today was game day, so many of their faces were painted with Go Jaguars and We’re #1. That paint was stark against the paleness of their skin. His wild gaze flew back to Victoria.

She really was here. She was breathing heavily, her fangs peeking over her lips in a show of absolute hunger. Couldn’t be an illusion. Tucker didn’t know she was vampire. Aden pushed to shaky legs and reached for her. His hands were covered in blood.

She backed away from him. “Can’t…touch you right now,” she croaked out.

Did she fear him, too? Or did she simply crave the blood that covered him?

“Oh my God!” Principal White pushed his way through the crowd and peered down at Tucker’s motionless form. “What did you do? What the hell did you do? Someone call 911.”

Victoria shook her head, seeming to drag herself out of her stupor, and shouted, “No one move,” in that husky voice of hers. Power hummed from her. “Hear me and obey. Except you, Aden.”

Everyone froze. Including Shannon, who now stood in the crowd, stopping midcough. No. Shannon had been kind to him these past few days, and they’d had each other’s backs. Aden hated that the former dreg had seen him like that, bloody and vicious, hated that Victoria now had to use her vampire powers against him.

“A tall, blond stranger came onto campus and fought Tucker,” she said, and everyone nodded. “You all saw it. Then you watched as that blond stranger ran off. You didn’t follow him because you were too concerned for Tucker. Now go about your day. Principal White will handle things from here.”

When she lapsed into silence, everyone started moving at once, backing into the shadows. The kids mumbled fearfully about “some blond stranger,” Shannon sneaked away, probably wanting no part of the interrogation that would come, and Principal White bent down and cradled Tucker’s head in his lap, feeling for a pulse.

“He’s alive,” he said with relief.

Aden’s shoulders sagged. He hadn’t killed him. Thank God.

Victoria cupped his face, forcing his attention on her. “Meet me in the parking lot. I’m going to convince your last three teachers that you are in class, even though you won’t be.”

“No,” John said, suddenly beside him again. “I put the polish in your backpack. Pink, glittery and brand-new. You have to find Chloe now.”

Aden flicked him a glance, took in his panicked expression, before turning back to Victoria. She didn’t act as if she saw the ghost. “I’ll be a few minutes. There’s something I have to do first.” He didn’t give her a chance to ask what. He bent down, kissed her hard—she licked his lips, eyes closed in surrender as the flavor of blood hit her tongue—and raced toward the cafeteria.

“Stop in the bathroom and clean up first,” John demanded at his side. “You’ll scare her.”

Aden quickly obeyed. There was no ridding himself of his bruised nose and hands, so he simply mopped up the blood as best as he could. When he finished, he resumed his journey. Word of the fight was spreading fast. He even heard kids on the phone with their parents, telling them about the unidentified man. Those parents were probably on their way now, meaning to take their precious children home to safety. Would news stations come out? Interview witnesses?

Aden gulped.

Everything will be all right, Elijah said. You won’t be sought and Dan won’t be worried.

You’re only encouraging his bad behavior, Eve reprimanded.

“Where is she?” Aden asked John. He scanned the crowded cafeteria, face and hands throbbing. Since learning John was a ghost yesterday, he’d made it a point to find out who Chloe Howard was. She hung with the smart kids, the ones more concerned with grades than appearances. A cute little thing with thick glasses, skin covered in freckles, and braces. She had pen-straight brown hair she always wore in a ponytail.

“There,” John said, pointing to the far back corner.

Aden worked his way over. When she spotted him, she ducked her head to her tray. There were three other kids around her, books in front of them as they talked and studied. A moment passed. She glanced up, realizing he was still coming toward her. She looked behind her, saw no one, and her mouth fell open.

“Can I speak with you?” he asked when he reached her.

Her gaze fell to her friends. They, too, were watching him with confusion.

“Alone,” he added. “Please. I need to talk to you about something important.”

John moved behind her, bent down and breathed her in. He pressed his lips together. To silence a moan? A whimper?

She nodded to her friends, who pushed from their chairs and walked away slowly, eyes never leaving them. Aden sat across from her. John remained behind her, hand brushing her cheek with longing. She didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m Aden,” he said.

“I know.” A blush stained her cheeks. Once again she turned her attention to her food, picking at it with her fork. “What happened to you? And what do you want?”

He ignored her first question. “I have a message for you.” There was only one way to present John’s case without admitting his own abilities. “John O’Conner and I were friends. He told me about you, how he loved you.” As he spoke, her color became ashen. “He tried to tell you, but—”

She jumped to her feet. Hands shaking, she gathered up her tray. “How dare you!” she whispered fiercely. “Let me guess what happened. You heard the rumor about our…relationship and you decided to taunt me. I thought he was cruel but you…” A pained cry left her.

“Don’t let her leave,” John rushed out in a panic. “Not until she understands.”

Aden, too, stood. “It might have started out as a dare, but he fell in love with you and wanted to be with you.”

She turned, ready to stalk away.

“Aden,” John said, eyes beseeching him. “Please.”

Maybe John’s empath powers had somehow transferred to him, because Aden felt his desperation bone-deep. He had to make this right. Had to make this girl understand. Even at his own expense. “Wait. You’re right. I didn’t know him,” he admitted, “not when he was alive. But the past few weeks I’ve been able to see the dead and he came to me, wanting only one thing. For me to talk to you.”

At least she didn’t race away. He had her attention, whether she believed him or not.

John must have taken heart, for he jumped in front of her and said, “Tell her I meant what I said the last time I called her. I would have run away with her. I even tried to give her a ring, my grandmother’s. I placed it in the glove box of her car to surprise her.”

Aden repeated every word.

Slowly she pivoted around and faced him. Tears were streaming down her face. “I don’t know how you found out about that ring and I don’t care.” She closed her eyes, exhaled a shuddering breath, and reached for the chain around her neck, tugging it from under her shirt. A diamond ring hung in the center, the small stones winking in the light. “I just want you to leave me a…lone.”

Aden followed her stunned gaze. A beam of light had streamed in through the window, hitting John and outlining the shimmer of his body. Openmouthed, Chloe reached out, fingers misting through him. He leaned into her touch anyway.

“John?”

“Hey, Chlo. God, I miss you.”

“Can you hear him?” Aden asked her.

“No,” she whispered.

He relayed what had been said. A long while passed in silence. The beam faded, and so did John, but Chloe didn’t move.

“What I just saw…that’s not possible,” she said, shaking her head.

“It’s more than possible,” Aden told her. “Later, you can tell yourself it was only your mind playing tricks, but for now…What would you say to him if you could?”

She swallowed, licked her lips. “I’d tell him that I forgive him. I’d tell him that when I found the ring, I realized he’d been telling me the truth and that I…I…I loved him, too.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” John pressed a ghostly kiss to her forehead, his image wavering, shimmering and then disappearing altogether.

Would he ever see John again? Aden wondered. Or had fulfilling his last wish ceased the ghost’s torment and sent him away for good?

Chloe stood there, crying, and her friends, who hadn’t strayed far, closed in on her, offering support and comfort. Aden left her then. Confused but strangely satisfied, he made his way to the parking lot. Victoria was already there, waiting in front of a plain blue car. He stopped. She gave him an unsure smile.

“Where have you been?” he asked, equally unsure. “Where are Riley and Mary Ann?”

She motioned to the car. “Get in and I’ll show you.”

They settled inside, Aden at the wheel. She handed him the keys and pointed north. Aden had a sinking suspicion that his day was about to take a turn for the worse. As awful as it had already been, that well and truly frightened him.