Haven (21 page)

I called Kate and left a message while Aidan went to the café to get us something to drink. Fifteen minutes later, we sat side by side up in the chapel’s dusty loft. Patsy had already called to tell me she’d been released from the hospital and was resting up at home, no worse for wear.

“I ran into Jack at the café,” Aidan said, handing me my coffee. “I told him to tell Kate what happened. You know, if he sees her before she gets your message.”

“Thanks.” I wrapped my hands around the cup, warming them. “Actually, speaking of Jack, what does he think you’re working on? You know, in the lab?”

“A blood-borne, parasitical disease, similar to malaria— which is pretty much the truth. He’s probably managed to put two and two together by now, though he’s never come right out and asked. He’s got a brilliant scientific mind, though. The work he’s doing, studying his brother’s medical condition, is graduate-school-level work. He’s a good guy. I trust him.”

I nodded. Jack seemed like a good guy. Still, I hoped Aidan was right to trust him. “Speaking of his brother, what’s the deal with the only-child thing here at Winterhaven?”

“Oh, I’ve got a theory about that,” he said with a smile.

“Somehow I knew you would, Einstein,” I murmured.

“I think it’s an evolutionary mechanism of some sort. Similar to the Rh factor, some protein left behind that affects the
mother’s subsequent pregnancies. The only kids at Winter-haven who have brothers or sisters have half siblings through their father. In fact, in all the years I’ve been here, Jack is the first person I’ve ever known with a full-blood sibling. I have to think that’s somehow related to his brother’s condition. Maybe his seizures are caused by a circuit overload of psychic abilities. It kind of makes sense, and that’s where Jack is focusing his research.”

“Huh. Interesting. Okay, so tell me more about
your
research. You said your . . . condition . . . was sort of like malaria,” I prompted. “How?”

“Well, I compare it to malaria because malaria is probably the best known parasitic disease, and certainly the most studied one,” he said, suddenly sounding much more like a professor than a student. “Anyway, the more I learn about parasites and their crafty ways, the more I realize that genetic variation and natural selection can yield behaviors in single-celled organisms that look like pure malevolent genius.

“For instance, the malaria protozoan
Plasmodium falciparum
infects humans, causing the malarial symptoms that everyone knows about, but it affects the mosquitoes, too. For years people thought that the mosquitoes suffered no ill effects from infection by
Plasmodium falciparum
. They thought they just served as a handy way for the parasites to get from person
to person. But it turns out the infected female mosquitoes
do
display one unusual behavior—they bite more often, seeking more blood than they need to nourish their developing eggs. This increased biting leads to a higher death rate for infected mosquitoes. You know why?”

“Why?” I played along.

“Because what happens when a mosquito bites you?”

I just shrugged.

“You smack it,” he answered with a smile. “It’s not a big stretch to say that this parasitic infection turns the mosquitoes into vampires of a sort. Just like malaria, vampirism is transmitted by a bite, and just like malaria, the vampirism parasite multiplies in the red blood cells, causing behavioral changes as well as physical symptoms. And this is pretty interesting too: You know how I said that it’s the female mosquito that transmits malaria to humans? So in essence, it’s the female becoming the ‘monster’?”

He paused expectantly.

“Yeah?” I prodded, having no idea where he was going with this.

“Remember how I also said that only a female vampire can make a male? Well, from what I can tell, there’s probably, oh, a hundred male vampires in the world for every one female. Maybe more. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Really?” That
was
surprising, actually. “But still, there
are
some female vampires, right? So some male vampires must be able to . . . you know, transmit the parasite or whatever you call it.”

“Any male can. It’s just that they don’t have the primal urge to do so, like the females do.”

“Okay, that’s just weird.”

He laughed. “Trust me, you don’t want to meet a female vampire.”

“I don’t want to meet
any
vampire,” I shot back, before I realized what I was saying. After all, it was so easy to forget what Aidan was.

“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching for his hand. Aidan remained silent, but I could see the hurt in his eyes.

“Don’t be,” he finally said, giving my hand a squeeze.

“But hey,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, “I guess this means that I don’t have to worry about you infecting me, right?”

“It takes more than a bite to infect a person. Much more.”

“Like . . . what?” I prodded.

He shrugged. “It starts with the bite, but then the vampire must drink until the exact moment that the victim’s heart stops beating. Then you begin replacing their blood with your own—your infected blood. You start off forcing it, but eventually they’ll begin to drink.”

“From . . . from the vampire?” I stuttered, my stomach roiling at the very thought.

“From the vampire,” he conceded. “The vampire’s infected blood reanimates the victim’s body, so to speak. Like I said before, it occurs on the cellular level, and the body is kept in a state of suspended animation. Your body temperature drops, you don’t age, your hair and nails don’t grow. You become, in essence, immortal. Broken bones heal, damaged tissue regenerates.”

“And the special powers?” I asked, morbidly fascinated.

He nodded “Yes, superhuman strength and agility, heightened senses, telekinetic powers. Actually, the vampire’s powers are derived from the cellular energy that’s created when fresh blood is converted to infected blood. That’s why a vampire is stronger when he’s just fed, and weaker the longer he goes without feeding.”

“But what would happen if you just . . . you know, stopped feeding? Would that eventually kill you?”

He exhaled sharply. “No. Trust me, I’ve tried. At first you start to weaken, but then it’s like some self-preservation autopilot kicks in. The thirst becomes unbearable, unstoppable. A vampire starving himself is dangerous and unpredictable, an indiscriminate killer.”

I shook my head, trying to clear it of that image. “But back
to the whole making-a-vampire thing. Anyone can do it?”

“Yes, but it’s not easy. It takes a great deal of focus and control to ensure that you stop feeding at precisely the moment the heart stops beating. Otherwise, it’s too late.”

I
had
to ask. “Have you ever turned someone?”

“No, Violet,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve never even had the urge to infect someone. The whole male/female thing, remember? Still, being a male doesn’t diminish the bloodlust, so let’s not get complacent about it, okay? I’m still a monster. If it weren’t for the elixir—”

“I don’t believe that,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re not a monster, Aidan.”

“Are you so sure, Violet? Because, honestly, you have no idea what’s going through my head at any given moment. I can hear the blood rushing through your veins, you know. My hearing is
that
good. And right now, it’s rushing faster, which means your heart is beating faster. And you know why?”

All I could do was shake my head. He was right; my heart was racing like a rabbit’s.

“Because you’re frightened of me,” he said, leaning in toward me. “Because that’s nature’s way of protecting you— making you fear me, telling you to get away, and fast. Because nature knows how much I would love a taste of your blood.”

“You . . . you really want to drink my blood?” I stammered.

“More than you’ll ever know.” Those words were whispered against my neck, his breath warm against my skin. A shiver worked its way down my spine. I felt his lips, just below my ear, pressing lightly against my flushed skin.

I was supposed to be frightened. But there was no denying that I was totally turned on. I desperately wanted—no, needed—something that I couldn’t even explain. My head fell back, and I’m pretty sure a moan escaped my lips.

More.
I wanted more; didn’t want him to stop.

Then I felt it—a hard pressure on my neck, the scrape of teeth. Instantly, my focus snapped back to attention and my entire body froze.

A
idan!” I managed to yell, scrabbling to my feet in a panic. I knocked over my coffee in the process, the caramel-colored liquid splashing all over the place.

He didn’t stand, didn’t move but for clenching his hands into fists by his sides. His eyes looked cold, hard, and for a moment I considered getting the hell out of there, as fast as I could.

He took a deep breath, and I could see the struggle on his face, could see the vein in his temple throb, the muscle in his jaw flicker. Finally, he spoke. “I think I just proved my point.”

“Your . . . your point?” I stuttered, barely able to breathe. “You almost bit me!”

His eyes met mine. “I wasn’t going to bite you, Violet. But you sure as hell thought I was, didn’t you?” His voice was suddenly cold, clipped.

“What, are you saying that you were . . . you were
testing
me?”

“Something like that.” He nodded, his expression softening. “It’s okay, Violet. You
should
be scared; I can’t hold it against you. Anyway, I should go.” He got to his feet and brushed off the coffee I’d spilled on his jeans.

I shook my head. “No, not like this.”

He smiled then, a sad smile that almost made my heart break into a million little pieces. “Look, I shouldn’t have scared you like that. You’d already had a bad day, and now this—”

“Don’t go,” I pleaded, hating myself for it. But I didn’t want him to leave, didn’t want him to think I was afraid of him.

But you were,
my mind reasoned.
You were scared shitless for a second there.

“I’ve got to prove . . . that, you know . . .” I trailed off miserably. The words just weren’t coming.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me. Honestly, I’d think you were a fool if you weren’t frightened. My point is that we should be careful, that’s all.” He glanced down at his watch. “Anyway, you should probably go to dinner. Don’t you have practice later?”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh.

“Hey, come here.” He pulled me into his embrace, and I went there gladly. “I’ll meet you after practice and walk you back to the dorm, okay?”

I just nodded. My mind was going in a million directions, but somehow it kept coming back to the feel of his lips against my neck, to the fleeting sensation of his teeth against my skin. Sure, I’d been terrified, but I’d been excited, too. It was almost as if . . . as if I
wanted
him to bite me. It had felt like a craving—a physical craving—like lust, only stronger, more potent.

And the revelation that he’d only been testing me? That should have made me feel better. Instead, I felt disappointment, as if he’d somehow
rejected
me.

I zipped up my coat to my chin, shivering in the cold night air as I stepped out of the gym and looked around for Aidan. For weeks now, he’d met me each night after practice and walked me back to the dorm. Sometimes we’d linger outside, talking in the moonlight till curfew; other times, he was in a rush to get back to his work. I wondered which it would be tonight.

Glancing up at the crescent moon, I shoved my hands into my pockets. My fingers were turning into icicles, and
my muscles, so limber after practice, were beginning to bunch up. The wind picked up, howling between the buildings, bending the branches of the bare trees that lined the walkway. Technically, there was still a week or so of autumn left, but it sure felt like winter to me. Other than the sound of the wind, the night was quiet. I imagined everyone else, tucked inside the cozy café or sitting beside the crackling fire in the East Hall lounge.

I’d give Aidan another couple of minutes, and then I’d start walking back alone. I knew he was working like a madman these last few days before winter break, trying to catch up on his work as best he could before he left for two weeks in Manhattan—two weeks that I’d insisted he spend at home, like everyone else.

I could barely wait—fourteen days in Manhattan, not twenty blocks away from Aidan, no classes, no chemistry labs, and no curfews. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, I realized. I was sure Patsy would enforce some sort of curfew, but I’d have far more freedom there than I did here at school.

More than anything, I didn’t want a replay of Thanksgiving break. Aidan had stayed at Winterhaven, and my friends had all gone off with their families. So I’d mostly sat around the apartment wishing I’d gone to Gran’s instead. The days dragged by—when Patsy hadn’t been
at
work, she’d be talking
about work, and I’d been bored stiff. And that had only been a long weekend, not a two-week vacation. Thank God, Aidan had finally agreed to take the time off and keep me company.

But he wasn’t meeting me tonight, I decided. I briefly considered calling out to him telepathically to make sure, but I didn’t want to interrupt him if he was busy working. After all, his cure was as important to me as it was to him. It was important to
us
. Because, let’s face it, without it, there
was
no “us.”

I started off down the lighted walk, then decided to cut through the buildings instead. It was quicker, and anyway, if Aidan came looking for me, he’d find me, path or not. With a shrug, I ducked between the gym and the field house, a route much more direct than the meandering sidewalk.

“C’mon, you freak,” I heard someone say, and I stopped dead in my tracks. Up ahead, just under a flickering light, I saw some guy—a football jock, no doubt—holding a much smaller guy in a headlock.

“If you want me to let you go, all you have to do is shift,” the bully said. “You know you can do it, you little freak. Do it, and I won’t kick the shit out of you.”