Richelle Mead - Bloodlines

“Oh,” I said, keeping a neutral face. “When you said you were getting Jill a dhampir her own age, I figured she’d be the roommate and I wouldn’t have to room with Jill anymore. I thought I’d have my own in the dorm.”

“That can probably be arranged . . .”

“And honestly, after some of the things that have happened, I’d feel better still keeping an eye on Jill. It’ll be easier if I’m at the school. Besides, if it takes an apartment to make Adrian happy and work on this Strigoi mystery, then that’s what we need to do. I can wait.”

Stanton studied me for several long seconds, breaking the silence only when the waiter dropped the bill off. “That’s very professional of you. I’ll look into the arrangements.”

“Thank you,” I said. A happy feeling welled up in me, and I almost smiled, picturing Adrian’s face when he heard about his new place.

“There’s just one more thing I don’t understand,” remarked Stanton. “When we investigated the apartment, we saw some fire damage. But none of you who were there reported any.”

I put on a contrived frown. “Honestly . . . so much of it’s a blur with the blood loss and the biting . . . I’m not really sure. Keith had some candles. I don’t know if one got lit . . . or I don’t know. All I keep thinking about is those teeth and how terrible it was when I was bit—”

“Yes, yes,” said Stanton. My excuse was flimsy, but even she wasn’t entirely impervious to the thought of being fed on by a vampire. It was pretty much an Alchemist’s worse nightmare, and I was entitled to my trauma. “Well, don’t worry about it. That fire is the least of our worries.”

It wasn’t the least of my worries. And when I got back to campus later that day, I finally dealt with it and hunted Ms. Terwilliger down where she was working in one of the library offices.

“You knew,” I said, shutting the door. All thoughts of student-teacher protocol vanished from my head. I’d been sitting on my anger for a week and could now finally let it out. I’d spent my life being taught to respect sources of authority, but now one of those had just betrayed me. “Everything you made me do . . . copying those spell books, making that amulet ‘just to see what it was like’!” I shook my head. “It was all a lie. You knew . . . you knew it was . . . real .”

Ms. Terwilliger took off her glasses and peered at me carefully. “Ah, so I take it you tried it?”

“How could you do that to me?” I exclaimed. “You have no idea how I feel about magic and the supernatural!”

“Oh,” she said dryly. “I do actually. I know all about your organization.” She tapped her cheek, mirroring the one my tattoo was on. “I know why your ‘sister’ is excused from outdoor activities and why your ‘brother’ excels in sports. I’m very informed about the various forces at work in our world, those hidden from most human eyes. Don’t worry, my dear. I’m certainly not going to tell anyone. Vampires aren’t my concern.”

“Why?” I asked, deciding not to acknowledge her outing everything I strove to keep secret. “Why me? Why did you make me do that—especially if you claim you know how I feel?”

“Mmm . . . a couple of reasons. Vampires, as you know, wield a sort of internal magic. They connect with the elements on a very basic, almost effortless level. Humans, however, have no such connection.”

“Humans aren’t supposed to use magic,” I said coldly. “You made me do something that violated my beliefs.”

“For humans to do magic,” she continued, as though I hadn’t spoken, “we must wrest it from the world. It doesn’t come so easily. Sure, vampires use spells and ingredients occasionally, but nothing like what we must do. Their magic goes from the inside out. Ours comes from the outside in. It takes so much effort, so much concentration and exact calculation . . . well, most humans don’t have the patience or skill. But someone like you? You’ve been grilled in those painstaking techniques since the time you could talk.”

“So that’s all it takes to use magic? An ability to organize and measure?” I didn’t bother hiding my scorn.

“Of course not.” She laughed. “There is a certain natural talent needed as well. An instinct that combines with discipline. I sensed it in you. You see, I have some proficiency myself. It gives me coven status but is still relatively small. You? I can feel a wellspring of power in you, and my little experiment proved as much.”

I felt cold all over. “That’s a lie,” I said. “Vampires use magic. Not humans. Not me .”

“That amulet didn’t light itself on fire,” she said. “Don’t deny what you are. And now that we’ve determined as much, we can move on. Your innate power might be greater than mine, but I can get you started in basic magical training.”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. It wasn’t real. It was like something from a movie because no way was this my life. “No,” I exclaimed. “You’re . . . you’re crazy! Magic’s not real, and I don’t have any! It’s unnatural and wrong. I won’t endanger my soul.”

“So much denial for such a good scientist,” she mused.

“I’m serious,” I said, barely recognizing my own voice. “I want nothing to do with your occult studies. I’m happy to go on taking notes and buying you coffee, but if you keep making these kinds of crazy statement and demands . . . I’ll go to the office and demand to be switched to another teacher. Believe me, when it comes to working bureaucracy and administrative staff, that is something I have innate power in.”

She almost smiled, but then it faded. “You mean that. You’d really reject this amazing potential—this discovery —that you have?”

I didn’t answer.

“So be it.” She sighed. “It’s a loss. And a waste. But you have my word that I won’t bring it up again unless you do.”

“That,” I said vehemently, “is not going to happen.”

Ms. Terwilliger merely shrugged by way of answer. “Well, then. Since you’re here, you might as well go get me some coffee.”

I moved toward the door and then thought of something. “Were you the one calling Nevermore and asking about vampires?”

“Why in the world would I do that?” she asked. “I already know where to find them.” Great, I thought. Another mystery .

I made it to the cafeteria later that day just as Eddie, Jill, and Micah were finishing dinner. Jill was understandably having a difficult time adjusting to Lee’s death and all the revelations we’d uncovered—including his desire to make her his undead queen. Both Eddie and I had talked to her as much as we could, but Micah seemed to have the greatest soothing effect on her. I think it was because he never openly addressed the topic. He knew Lee had died but thought it was an accident and naturally knew none of the vampiric connections. While Eddie and I constantly tried our hand at being amateur psychologists, Micah simply tried to distract her and make her happy.

“We have to go,” he said apologetically when I sat down. “Rachel Walker is going to give us a lesson on one of the sewing machines.”

Eddie shook his head at him. “I still don’t know why you signed up for sewing club.” That wasn’t true, of course. We both knew exactly why Micah had joined.

Jill’s face wore the grave look it had had since Lee’s death—a look she would carry for a while, I suspected—but the ghost of a smile flickered over her lips. “I think Micah has the makings of a real fashion designer. Maybe I’ll walk in his show one day.”

I shook my head, hiding my own smile. “No modeling of any kind, not for a while.” After the show, Lia and other designers had gotten in touch, all wanting to work with Jill again. We’d had to refuse in order to protect her identity here, but it had made Jill sad to have to do it.