“Probably better than me.”
“You’re better at that stuff than you think. You’re able to make things clear and—”
Jill suddenly froze. Her eyes widened a little, and for a moment, it was like she was watching something I couldn’t see. No, I realized a moment later. There was no “like” about it. That was exactly what she was doing. She was having one of those moments where she was in sync with Adrian’s mind. I saw her blink and slowly tune back into my room. Her eyes focused on me, and she paled. Just like that, I knew that she knew.
Rose had said that sometimes in the bond, you could sift through someone’s recent memories even if you hadn’t actually been tuned into the bond at that moment. As Jill looked at me, I could tell she’d seen it all, everything that had happened with Adrian last night. It was hard to say which of us was more horrified. I replayed everything I’d done and said, every compromising position I’d literally and figuratively put myself in. Jill had just “seen” me do things no one else ever had—well, except for Adrian, of course. And what had she actually felt? What it was like to kiss me? To run her—his?—hands over my body?
It was a situation I had in no way prepared for. My occasional indiscretions with Adrian had come through to Jill as well, but we’d all brushed those off—me in particular. Last night, however, had taken things to a whole new level, one that left both Jill and me stunned and speechless. I was mortified that she’d seen me so weak and exposed, and the protective part of me was worried that she’d seen anything like that at all, period.
She and I stared at each other, lost in our own thoughts, but Jill recovered first. She turned even redder than when she’d mentioned Eddie and practically leapt out of the chair. Turning her eyes away from mine, she hurried to the door. “Um, I should go, Sydney. Sorry to bother you so early. It probably could’ve waited. Angeline’s going to talk to Eddie this morning, so whenever you get a chance to find him, you know, that’d be great.” She took a deep breath and opened the door, still refusing to make eye contact. “I’ve gotta go. See you later. Sorry again.”
“Jill—”
She shut the door, and I sank back into the bed, unable to stand. It was official. Whatever residual heat and lust I’d felt from being with Adrian last night had completely vanished in the wake of Jill’s expression. Until that moment, I hadn’t really and truly understood what it meant to be involved with someone who was bonded. Everything Adrian said to me, she heard. Every emotion he had for me, she experienced. Every time he kissed me, she felt it. . . .
I thought I might be sick. How had Rose and Lissa handled this? Somewhere in my addled mind, I recalled Rose saying she’d learned to block out a lot of Lissa’s experiences—but it had taken a few years to figure it out. Adrian and Jill had only been bonded for a few months.
The shock of understanding what Jill had seen cast a shadow over everything that had been sensual and thrilling last night. I felt like I had been on display. I felt cheap and dirty, especially as I remembered my own role in instigating things. That sickening feeling in my stomach increased, and there was no stopping the avalanche of thoughts that soon followed.
I’d let myself spin out of control last night, carried away by desire. I shouldn’t have done any of that—and not just because Adrian was a Moroi (though that was certainly problematic too). My life was about reason and logic, and I’d thrown all of that out the window. They were my strengths, and in casting them aside, I’d become weak. I’d been high on the freedom and risks I’d experienced last night, not to mention intoxicated by Adrian and how he’d said I was beautiful and brave and “ridiculously smart.” I’d melted when he’d looked at me in that absurd dress. Knowing he’d wanted me had muddled my thoughts, making me want him too. . . .
There was no part of this that was okay.
With great effort, I dragged myself from the bed and managed to pick out some clothes for the day. I staggered to the shower like a zombie and stayed in for so long that I missed breakfast. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t have eaten anything anyway, not with all the emotions that were churning inside me. I barely spoke to anyone as I walked through the halls, and it wasn’t until I sat down in Ms. Terwilliger’s class that I finally remembered there were other people in the world with their own problems.
Specifically, Eddie and Trey.
I was certain there was no way they could be as traumatized as Jill and I were by last night’s events. But it was obvious both guys had had a rough morning. Neither one spoke or made eye contact with others. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen Eddie neglect his surroundings. The bell cut me off before I had a chance to say anything, and I spent the rest of class watching them with concern. They didn’t look like they were going to engage in any testosterone-driven madness, so that was a good sign. I felt bad for both of them—especially Eddie, who’d been wronged the most—and worrying on their behalf helped distract me from my own woes. A little.
When class ended, I wanted to talk to Eddie first, but Ms. Terwilliger intercepted me. She handed me a large yellow envelope that felt like it had a book inside. There was no end to the spells I had to learn. “Some of the things we discussed,” she told me. “Tend to them as soon as you get the chance.”
“I will, ma’am.” I slipped the envelope into my bag and glanced around for Eddie. He was gone.
Trey was in my next class, and I took my usual seat beside him. He gave me a sidelong look and then turned away.
“So,” I said.
He shook his head. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything.”
He stayed silent a few moments and then turned back to me, a frantic look in his eyes. “I didn’t know, I swear. About her and Eddie. She never mentioned it, and obviously, they don’t talk about it around here. I never would’ve done that to him. You have to believe that.”
I did. No matter what Trey’s other faults were, he was good-hearted and honest. If anyone was at fault for bad behavior here, it was Angeline.
“I’m actually more surprised that you’d get involved with someone like her, period.” I didn’t need to elaborate that “someone like her” referred to her being a dhampir.
Trey put his head on his desk. “I know, I know. It all just happened so fast. One day she’s throwing a book at me. The next, we’re making out behind the library.”
“Ugh. That’s a little more information than I needed.” Glancing up, I saw that our chemistry teacher was still getting organized, giving Trey and me a little more time. “What are you going to do now?”
“What do you think? I have to end it. I shouldn’t have let it get this far.”
The Sydney from three months ago would have said of course he needed to end it. This one said, “Do you like her?”
“Yes, I—” He paused and then lowered his voice. “I think I love her. Is that nuts? After only a few weeks?”
“No—I don’t know. I’m not really good at understanding that stuff.” And by not really good, I actually meant terrible. “But if you feel like that . . . maybe . . . maybe you shouldn’t throw it away.”
Trey’s eyes widened, and surprise completely replaced his blue mood. “Are you serious? How can you say that? Especially you of all people. You know how it is. You’ve got the same rules as us.”
I could hardly believe what I was saying. “Her people don’t, and they seem to be fine.”
For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes, but then he shook his head again. “I can’t, Sydney. You know I can’t. It would eventually end in disaster. There’s a reason our kinds don’t mix. And if my family ever found out . . . God. I can’t even imagine. There’d be no way I’d ever get back in.”