At the age of 18, every dhampir can decide when their heart stops, but not all of them can choose their allegiance. Melissa Sault is one of these dhampir, a half-blooded immortal whom attends a secondary school built for students just like her--stud...
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There were no leaves on the trees but I still couldn't find him.
I hadn't wanted to peer over my shoulder again. If he were right behind me, that would have been it. I would have misstepped, he would have grabbed me by my hood and yanked me to his chest. The bite of two needles would have sunk into my neck and I would have ended up like the others; a heap of limbs and crumpled clothes on the forest floor hoping someone would find me when I couldn't scream for help.
So, I didn't look behind me even though I wanted to and my eyes watered as I pushed my legs further because the truth had never been more apparent.
There were different forms of adrenaline. The one laced with terror was the worst. A match lit in my chest and sparked around the rest of the body, not because of bliss but because it consumed my insides and burned through any sense of time, security, or comfort. It had convinced me I wouldn't make it.
And even after it went out, when I was safe and in the arms of family and curling my knees under my chest to let it all go--it never left. Nothing felt the same. That kind of adrenaline not only left me empty and tired, but also a stranger in my own skin and a stranger to the world around. The only world I thought I understood.
Before, I never would have analyzed the faces floating by as they passed in the hall. I wouldn't have thought twice about smiling back at them or greeting them with a halfhearted question about their winter breaks. But these days it didn't matter if we walked the same direction in the aged halls, wore the same navy uniforms, and knew each other's names. They were inescapable and too close.
No matter if I studied my feet, stared at the ceiling, or counted my steps in my head, too much movement crowded the corridor. Too much laughter rounded the archways. Too much conversation; Loud enough to drown out the one thing we might need to hear, or see, or feel to detect danger.
A hand clamped onto my shoulder, the grip enough to make my soul leave my body had it not softened and rubbed my back. Still, my knees threatened to give until Miles stood before me and boyishly grinned an apology. His thick brows arched in concern even as he kept his tone light and his hold firm.
"How are you holding up? Is it too much?"
I shimmied his hands off and straightened my cape coat. "I can walk to the auditorium without breaking down, you know."
He threw up his hands in defense, pursing his lips. "You know what I meant, Mel. I'm not trying to upset you."
He wasn't. I knew that and it made sense. I minimized his question to make it fit a short walk from the dorms to an assembly when he referred to the two days before this when we arrived and I barely left my room. No, I wasn't at my best and he probably already knew that too.
Sighing, I crossed my arms. "I'll be fine."
He nodded and adjusted his maroon tie. He looked handsome in his school uniform. Sixteen, doe-eyed, eager for the three-year journey ahead that'd been preached as what would be the best three years of his life just like it had been preached to me. When he glanced my way again I hoped he could see how much I rooted for him.
