“You don’t believe me?” I asked, my voice rising in surprise.
“I think you must have misunderstood, Violet.” His voice was cold, clipped.
“I know what I heard, Aidan,” I snapped. “And that’s not all. He told me not to tell you about our conversation. Gave me some story about how you wouldn’t like him interfering, but I don’t believe it.”
Again Aidan said nothing. He just continued to stare at me like I’d lost my mind.
“I swear I’m telling you the truth. I’ve never lied to you, after all.” I had to get that dig in.
“You’re implying, of course, that I’ve lied to you,” he answered.
“Do we have to have this argument again? Lied, withheld information, whatever you want to call it, it’s not important now.” A shiver worked its way down my spine, and I realized I was scared. Terrified. All this time I’d thought Dr. Blackwell was protecting Aidan, keeping him safe. What if he was really leading him into some sort of trap? And what if I was a part of that trap?
Aidan ran a hand through his hair. “This doesn’t make any sense. Blackwell’s never been anything but supportive of my work. Why would he turn on me now, after all this time?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “Maybe I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong.”
“But you’re never wrong, are you?”
I took a tentative step toward him. “So. what do we do?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” he said, sounding exhausted. Defeated. “This is uncharted territory, even for me.”
“I could try to coax another vision,” I suggested. “You know, see if I can find out anything about Blackwell’s involvement. Sandra’s been trying to teach me how, though I haven’t quite gotten the hang of it yet.”
“That’s a good idea,” he said, looking hopeful. “Is there anything in particular that seems to bring them on?”
I searched my memory. “A lot of the time I’m thinking about you when I have one. But when it was Patsy, that time before her crash? I think it was because it was just about to happen.”
The corners of his mouth twitched with a smile. “So, you’re usually thinking about me when it happens, huh? Don’t know if I should be flattered by that or offended.”
“Probably both,” I said.
“So”—he cleared his throat—“what kind of mental state would you say you’re in at the time? Because you probably need to be able to get yourself there if you want to bring on a vision.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Confused, upset? That’s usually how I’m feeling when I’m thinking about you.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction. “That’s just great, Violet. Thanks.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I reached for his hand, taking it in my own. “But you know what’s weird? I haven’t had a single vision since. well, since we broke up.”
“Broke up? Is that what you call it?”
“I’m just saying that they stopped when we stopped hanging out,” I clarified.
He gave my hand a little squeeze before dropping it. “So you’re saying maybe I’m some kind of trigger for you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself.
“You’re cold,” he said, reaching for my raincoat. “Take this off; it’s soaking wet.” He helped me out of it and tossed it to the ground, then removed his scarf and pulled his dark gray sweater over his head.
“Here,” he said, holding the sweater out to me. “Put it on.”
My fingers trembling, I took it and pulled it over my head. It was soft, probably cashmere, I realized, and so fine a knit that I knew it must have cost a fortune.
“You were right, Violet,” Aidan said softly. “I should have told you about Isabel. About the resemblance. But I hope you understand why I didn’t.”
I could only nod. The anger I’d felt toward him had dissipated, reduced now to a dull ache of disappointment.
“I didn’t want to lose you,” he continued. “Though now I realize it’s probably better this way.”
I flinched at his words. “How is it better this way?” I asked.
“Because it’s dangerous to fight our natural instincts. After all, it’s only a matter of time—”
“Till what, Aidan? Till we start acting like enemies? Till we start trying to take each other out?”
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before answering me. “I would destroy myself before I’d let myself hurt you, Violet. I’ve told you so more than once.”
“Yeah, it’s easy for you to say that now,” I muttered.
He glanced up at the ceiling, where the square-cut window showed the sky beyond. “Look, the rain has stopped. You should go.”
“Do you want me to go?” I asked, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.
“I think it’s best if you do,” he answered, his voice soft, gentle. “Just promise me you won’t turn off your inner eye. If a vision comes, tell me at once what you see. Just. reach out telepathically. Will you do that?”
I nodded, a painful lump in my throat.
“Are you going to be in Manhattan over the break?” he asked, reaching for my raincoat and shaking it out.
“No, I’m going to visit my Gran in Atlanta.”
“Good. I suppose you’ll be safe there.”
Because what I’d foreseen happens here, at Winterhaven.
He held out my coat, and for a moment I just stood there, staring. I didn’t want it to be like this between us. I wanted to tell him I was sorry; I wanted to say that it didn’t matter that he’d kept the truth about Isabel from me. More than anything, I wanted to tell him that I still loved him.
Instead, I took my raincoat and silently shrugged into it without meeting his eyes.
“See you around, Violet,” he said, his voice full of sadness.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, trying to force back the inevitable tears. “See you around.”
Some kick-ass vampire slayer I was.