Violet Forsythe has been through hell.
Her entire family is dead, her daywalker best friend hates her guts, and her vampire boyfriend is giving her the silent treatment all the way from Italy.
But Violet is anything but a quitter, and she has a few...
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"What the hell happened to you?" Jane asked me incredulously.
Since my rendezvous with Demetri the night before, I was rendered completely useless - even well over twelve hours later. I did myself a favor and exiled myself to the farthest corner of the library, on the second floor and tucked behind rows and rows of heavy oak shelves.
I was pleased with my hiding spot, and I hadn't anticipated being approached throughout the day - much less by Jane.
She had caught me slumped over a thick book that I'd randomly pulled from a nearby shelf. It was splayed open on the table in front of me and I was hunched over, resting my forehead on the pages.
"Hi, Jane," I smiled sweetly after righting myself. "You look pretty today."
I was still sluggish and very much blissed out from the night before.
"Are you high?" she demanded.
"No," I said, shaking my head languidly. "I think I might be in love, though."
"With who, exactly?" she asked in a clipped tone.
"Demetri," I sighed. "Who else?"
Jane rolled her eyes dramatically and sat down, taking the seat across from me.
"What did he do?" she asked flatly.
"What? Nothing!....absolutely nothing....." I trailed off in a daze.
"Your pupils are dilated and your eyes are starting to glaze over," Jane said impatiently.
"So what?" I shrugged.
"I've never seen you act like this. Not even with Alec. So? What did Demetri do?" she prodded.
"Nothing."
"Did you have sex last night?" she asked bluntly, arching an eyebrow.
"No," I said defensively. "Though, I guess it depends on your personal definition."
"That's what I thought," Jane said smugly. "But, what was new this time? I thought you said you'd already done that before."
'Uh oh,' I thought daftly as I gave her a long, blank look.
"It's called being inlove, you robot," I retorted. "That's what's different."
"No. I've seen love before. I've seen it in thousands of different forms. But, this," she said, jabbing a finger in my face. "This is infatuation. It's lust."
I wrinkled my nose at her in silent denial.
"Well?" Jane prodded me as her usual smug little grin spread across her face. "What did he do differently?"
"Well, it wasn't sex sex," I confided, against my better judgement. "He..."
