Authors: Amanda M. Lee
December hit with a torrent of snow and ice that m
ade the uncomfortable dorm situation seem almost tropical in comparison. Almost.
My roommates and I had fallen into a new rhythm. Ma
tilda and Laura were joined at the hip and Kelsey and I spent almost all of our free time together trying to pretend something truly awful wasn’t brewing.
No one in the room was openly fighting. That would be
too easy. If we got all of our issues out on the table and hashed them out, then we might be able to experience some emotional growth and move past this stalemate. We were all far too immature for that, though.
Matilda and Laura were caught up in the pledge pr
ocess – which was winding down – and often engaged in some menial task. Thankfully, a lot of those tasks had to be performed elsewhere. I had no idea what the pledge process for a sorority full of witches entailed, but I had a feeling it wasn’t all harmless Truth or Dare games for some reason.
I was still ignoring Brittany, even though her antics
had turned to the absurd. One day, she announced that she was going to get a tattoo of Will’s name on her ankle. Kelsey interjected that she thought that was a great idea. That way, when Will dumped her, she could have a permanent reminder of how stupid she was on her body.
Brittany hadn’t taken Kelsey’s diss well. She had been
so embarrassed by the display that she had retreated to her room to plot her revenge. I was still waiting for that shoe to drop – although I wasn’t particularly worried about it.
By the middle of the month, we were so caught up with finals
preparations that petty bickering took a back seat. One afternoon, when everyone in our room was taking a break and catching up on
General Hospital
together, things shifted yet again.
“We’re being formally inducted into Delta Omicron tonight,” Laura announced.
“Congratulations?” I was still wary about voicing my true feelings about the sorority when Matilda and Laura were present. Things had settled down, but mostly because I had been keeping my mouth shut. Trust me. It hadn’t been easy.
“It’s a big deal,” Laura said excitedly. “There
’s going to be a big party and everything.”
“During finals week?” Kelsey didn’t look impressed.
“Well, not that big of a party,” Laura ceded. “It’s more like a dinner party. We have the ceremony and then snacks.”
That definitely sounded better than the last sorority party.
“Anyway,” Laura pressed on. “I was kind of hoping that you guys would come and watch the ceremony.”
Crap.
“It’s not going to be anything big,” Laura continued hurriedly. “We just thought it would be a nice way for everyone to kind of put this semester behind us and move on. I mean, if you guys are willing.”
The hopeful tone of Laura’s voice was enough to mak
e my resolve crumble. I didn’t want anything to do with Delta Omicron, that was certain. I knew that it was too late to untangle Laura and Matilda from their web, though. They would have to learn – and ultimately make their own decisions – without the benefit of my tart tongue.
I exchanged a wary glance with Kelsey. Her face was unreadable, though.
“I don’t know,” I hedged. “Are you sure you want us there?”
“Yes,” Matilda piped in happily. “We think it will be a
great way for everyone to kind of refresh.”
Refresh?
“We know you guys haven’t been crazy about us joining the sorority,” Matilda continued. “It’s been a rough couple of months. We were talking last night, though, and we agree that maybe we haven’t been entirely fair.”
“You haven’t been entirely fair?” I asked warily.
“No,” Matilda shook her head, her brown hair swinging. “When we look at it from your perspective, it probably seems like we just did this out of the blue. That we didn’t put any real thought into it.”
That was an understatement.
“We actually put a lot of thought into this,” Laura added. “We really feel like we fit here. This is what we both really want. Maybe we didn’t make that clear to you guys before. Maybe that’s why you were so against us joining.”
Yeah, that was it.
“Well,” Kelsey said carefully. “I think we’ve all got a little blame to go around. We haven’t been very supportive. You guys have been pretty secretive, though.”
“I guess,” Matilda laughed. “We’re supposed to k
eep the whole pledge process a secret, though. That’s part of the rules.”
Well, that didn’t sound good.
“We’d be happy to go to the induction ceremony,” Kelsey offered. “We can’t stay there forever,” she said hurriedly. “I have to study.”
“You always have to study,” Matilda laughed.
“Yeah, well, finals are almost done but I still have two left,” Kelsey said. “Still, though,
I think it would be great to go.”
I exchanged a wary look with her. She was waiting for me to respond in kind. “Yeah,”
I said, although my enthusiasm was pretty much nonexistent. “We would love to go.”
“Great,” Matilda squealed. “Be at the house at seven. Don’t be late.”
This was a really bad idea.
“DO YOU THINK
we’re dressed all right?”
“I don’t know,” I said tiredly. “What do you wear to an induction ceremony?”
Kelsey and I were standing on the front porch of the Delta Omicron sorority house. We’d both went for simple khakis and a plain top when dressing back at the dorm. Laura and Matilda had left hours before, full of excitement and carrying garment bags containing whatever weird outfits they planned to wear for the ceremony.
“I have no idea,” Kelsey said. “I’m starting to rethink
the wisdom associated with us being here.”
“Now? Why didn’t you think about it more before y
ou answered for both of us?” I grumbled.
“You answered for yourself,” Kelsey reminded me. “You said it was a great idea.”
“Only because you did.”
“So you’re a follower now?”
“Bite me.”
“Let’s just get this over with,” Kelsey sighed, raising
her hand to knock on the door.
Neither of us recognized the girl at the door. When
we told her why we were there, though, she ushered us in with a big smile and a lot of faux platitudes. I honestly stopped listening thirty seconds after she started talking.
She showed us into a large room on the west side
of the house, where a bunch of people we didn’t know milled about, and then disappeared into the crowd, leaving us to our own companionship.
“Wow,” Kelsey breathed. “There are a lot more people here than I expected.”
“That’s for sure,” I agreed. “At least we can be assured they’re not going to do anything really funky with so many people around. That’s at least something. I was a little worried.”
“Unless they’re all part of it,” Kelsey replied.
We exchanged worried looks as soon as soon as the words left her mouth. “I’m sure that’s not the case,” I said finally. Or maybe I just hoped?
“We better hope,” she replied. “We’re clearly ou
tnumbered here. Really, really outnumbered.”
Laura and Matilda greeted us with wide smiles. Th
eir excitement might have been infectious if I wasn’t so anti-Delta Omicron. “I’m so glad you came,” Laura beamed.
“We said we would,” I offered lamely.
“I know,” Laura said. “I just wasn’t sure if you really would or not. We kind of guilted you into it.”
“Well, we’re here,” I replied, opting to ignore her gui
lt charge, but not denying it. “When do the festivities begin?” And how soon can we make a discreet exit afterward?
“In a few minutes,” Matilda said, glancing around th
e room with sparkling eyes. “I think they’re still getting ready upstairs.”
I took the opportunity to look the two of them u
p and down. I guess I had been expecting them to dress in ceremonial robes or something – yes, I watch too much television – but they were both clad in simple dresses and nice shoes. Maybe I really was overreacting.
“Oh, I see you got your friends to come after all.”
I grimaced when I heard the voice before plastering a fake smile on my face and turning to greet Jessica. She was standing off to our left with an evil smile on her face. I didn’t take that for a good sign. She clearly had something up her sleeve – even though she was going sleeveless in a low-cut gown this evening. “I doubted that the two of them could convince you to come.”
“That’s what friends are for,” I replied simply, biting
the inside of my lower lip to refrain from attacking her with as many nasty words as I could muster.
“Friends? Yeah, friends do things for one another. I
guess I should expect nothing else from the mage.”
I froze. Maybe I had misheard her. She couldn’t possib
ly have just referred to me as a mage in front of a bunch of strangers. Could she?
“A mage?” Kelsey looked confused. “What’s a mage?”
Crap.
“I have no idea,” I lied, shrugging. I was going for leg
itimate innocence, and feigned ignorance.
“Really?” Jessica stepped closer to me. I guessed she was trying to intimidate me, but
I wasn’t about to give any ground. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “You don’t have any idea what a mage is?”
“No,” I shook my head, plastering my best look of
curiosity across my features. “What’s a mage?”
Jessica narrowed her eyes. She knew I was playing
a game. I just hoped everyone else was in the dark. “I don’t know,” she replied innocently. “I just heard someone else on campus refer to you as a mage. I thought it was some new thing all the cool kids were doing or something.”
She was good. I was better.
“Huh, that’s so weird.” I wrinkled my nose. “I wonder what it means? It’s probably pretty insulting.”
Matilda and Laura watched the exchange. They looked worried.
“Maybe you should look it up or something?” Jessica suggested. “You know, embrace the knowledge?”
“It doesn’t sound like it’s anything that really affects
me,” I countered. “I mean it’s probably some new slang term for ‘slut’ or something. That would just be my luck. I get the new cool term.”
“Are you a slut?” Jessica asked pointedly.
“I would say I’m more energetic than anything else,” I countered pointedly. “Aric seems to like it, whatever it is, so I’m not really worried.”
Jessica frowned. “Yes, Aric does like an energetic woman. If memory serves, anyway.
That’s what I remember. Lots of energy.”
“I’m just glad I don’t have to remember it,” I shot bac
k snottily. “I get a live show whenever I want.”
“Yes, lucky you,” Jessica sneered. “Lucky, lucky you.”
Laura and Matilda looked uncomfortable. “Um, are we getting started soon?” Laura asked hopefully.
“Soon,” Jessica agreed. “Very soon everything will be se
t in motion and then we’ll get started. I can’t wait.”
Her ominous tone sent a chill down my spine. I didn’t l
et her see that, though. There was definitely more than meets the eye going on here. And, as usual, I needed some answers.
After finishing my finals the next afternoon, I made a beeline for Aric’s place. I wasn’t returning home for the Christmas break until Monday and we had made plans to spend the weekend together before separating for the two weeks of vacation. I had invited him home, but he had declined. I had a feeling he wanted to be as far away as possible from my mother and her unending questions and my father and his gun.
He said he had to return home to spend Christmas
with his family, but I had my doubts.
The induction ceremony the previous night had been
beyond tedious. And, after our initial altercation, Jessica had given me a wide berth. I had no idea what game she was playing, but I sincerely wanted to opt out.
I had considered calling Aric after leaving the sorority
house, but ultimately decided against it. I knew he would be infuriated about Kelsey and I going to the ceremony and I decided to postpone his rage for Sunday afternoon – when we were saying goodbye. A lack of sleep the previous night, though, was making that nearly impossible.
I needed answers and I had a feeling that Aric wa
s going to balk when I started pressing him again. I was preparing for a big fight. Again.
I let myself into Aric’s apartment with the key
he’d given me weeks before and found him sitting on the couch watching television. He looked up in surprise when he saw me cross the threshold into his inner sanctum.
“Hey, baby,” he greeted me warmly. “What are you doing here so early?”
“Maybe I just missed you?”
“Really?” Aric cocked an eyebrow and then patted the open spa
ce on the couch next to him. “If you come over here, you won’t miss me so much.”
I slipped onto the couch next to him, closing my e
yes when his arm snaked around me and pulled me close. He was so warm. I wanted to sink into that warmth and live there the rest of the weekend. Maybe the fight could wait?
“So, what did you do last night?”
Maybe not. “What do you mean?”
“I called your phone but it was off. You usually on
ly do that when you’re out and about and doing something you don’t want me to know about.”
Crap.
“So where were you?” Aric repeated. His eyes were trained on the television, but his body was rigid with anticipation.
Well, I might as well just tell him. “I went to the induction ceremony for the new pledges at Delta Omicron last night.”
I felt Aric’s body tighten, but he didn’t explode as I expected. “Huh. And why did you do that?”
“Because Laura and Matilda asked me to.”
“Hmm. And how was it?”
“The ceremony itself was wicked boring,” I admitted
, “a bunch of pledges to honor their sisters and promises to serve the sorority and other crap.”
“That sounds normal,” Aric said. “A little too normal.”
“Well, that was after Jessica and I had a little talk,” I said carefully.
“What kind of talk?” Aric’s body was so coiled it felt like he was about to
spring off the couch and kill something at any moment.
“Well she thanked me for coming and then she referred to me as a mage.”
I felt the breath whoosh out of Aric’s body. “She what?”
“She referred to me as a mage.”
“Why?”
Really? That was how he was going to play it? “Sh
e referred to me as a mage,” I repeated, and this time I let anger creep into my voice.
“Why would she do that? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Are you surprised that she called me a mage or are you surprised that she called me a mage in front of a room full of people?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Aric hedged, inching away from me a bit.
“You know what I mean,” I countered. “You know.”
“I know what?”
“What I am,” I replied simply.
Aric jumped to his feet, practically knocking me over in
his haste to get away from me. “Let’s not do this. Not again.”
“I can’t not do this,” I said sadly. “I have to do this.”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Aric said, running his hands through his inky black hair in frustration. “You choose to keep doing this.”
“And you choose to keep pretending that you don’t know anything.”
“I’m not pretending.”
“You’re lying,” I charged. “You’re lying and I’ve had it.”
“I don’t know what you are,” Aric said, his eyes hard. “I honestly don’t.”
“You have your suspicions, though,” I filled in for him.
“Everyone on this campus has their suspicions,” Aric said. “Trust me.”
“And what are your suspicions?”
“Not everything fits into a neat little box, Zoe,” Aric said. “Werewolves and vampires and sphinxes, they all fit in a box. Sure, sometimes those boxes aren’t exactly rectangular, but they’re still boxes. You’re beyond all of that.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I know you’re different. I knew it the minute I saw you. You were standing there in the living room of the Alpha Chi house and I could feel you even before I could see you.”
I just sat and waited for him to continue.
“When I saw you were with Will I was confused. I figured he had to know what you were. When I questioned him about it, though. He acted like I was crazy.”
“So he doesn’t know?”
“I don’t think so,” Aric shrugged. “It’s not exactly like he confides in me.”
“Then what does he think?”
“He thinks you’re his high school girlfriend,” Aric said. “You have to remember, he’s not a born werewolf. He was made. Even though we’re different, some things are the same.”
“So, you’re saying that after he was made a werewol
f, he was drawn to me like you were?”
“That would be my guess,” Aric said.
“Only he doesn’t understand it now?”
“No. He probably just thinks it’s because the two of you were together for so long.”
“So why don’t you tell him?”
“It’s none of his business.”
“Is it the rest of your pack’s business?”
Aric frowned at the question. “What are you asking?”
“I’m asking what your pack knows about me? What have you told them?”
“I’ve told them that I care about you a great deal and that you’re my girlfriend.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“I find that hard to believe given that every other supernatural being on this campus seems to think they know something about me – something that I don’t know about myself.”
Aric sat back down on the couch and put his hand over m
ine. I didn’t pull away, but I didn’t lean into him either. “I don’t know what to tell you to ease your mind,” Aric said. “I’ve been trying to do some research, find something that can help you.”
“You have?” His admission surprised me.
“Of course,” Aric said, fixing his incredulous eyes on me. “I don’t want you in the dark. I don’t want me in the dark. If I know what’s going on I can protect you better.”
“I don’t need your protection,” I protested.
Aric ignored the statement. “I keep running into brick walls, though.”
“How so?”
“I looked at your family tree,” Aric started. “It looks normal, though. If you were born into something, it was so long ago that it predates any sort of state record keeping.”
“State record keeping? You’re not saying that the s
tate catalogs the supernatural population are you?”
“Kind of,” Aric shrugged.
“Why?”
“Know your enemy, know your allies.”
“That’s creepy.”
“Hey, I’m not doing it. Take it up with my dad and my grandfather before him.”
“No thanks. I’ll pass. So you’re saying you honestly have no idea what I am?”
“I don’t,” Aric answered forcefully. “If I knew, I would tell you.”
“You still haven’t told me what you suspect I am,” I pointed out.
Aric shifted beside me. He looked as though he was re
ady to jump up out of his seat again. He was a terrible liar. “I don’t have enough information to hazard a guess.”
“Whatever,” I groaned, climbing up from the couch angrily.
Aric reached for me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back down to his lap. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled against him, but it was a losing fight. H
e was just too strong. “I know you’re keeping something from me.”
Aric let me up, but he was standing next to me before
I could blink. “Here’s what I know,” he growled, his hand on my arm to keep me from moving away from him. “I know that you have some sort of energy field around you that calls to me. I know that you are the single most infuriating person I’ve ever met. I know that sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night in a panic until I realize that you’re still there, sleeping next to me, snoring like a buzz saw.”
“I do not snore!”
He ignored me. “I know that every supernatural on this campus is keyed in to whatever you’re doing at any given moment. I know that I’m terrified that something is going to happen to you. I know that you’re a magnet for trouble and you act before you think. And I know that I’m at a loss as to how to help you.”
It was a nice speech. Parts of it made my heart pound
painfully in my chest. It was also not an answer.
“You’re still hiding something,” I whispered.
Aric looked caught. “I’m not purposely hiding anything from you.”
He had to throw in that caveat, didn’t he? “Purpo
sely? But the things your pack wants to hide from me are out of your control, aren’t they?”
Aric spread his hands out, palms up, and shrugged help
lessly. “You know I can’t talk to you about pack stuff.”
“You did before,” I reminded him.
“And I’ve had to pay for that. Trust me,” Aric mumbled.
What did that mean? “I don’t know what to do,”
I said tiredly, running a hand through my hair.
“Let it go,” Aric pleaded.
“I can’t.” I glanced out his living room window, at the snow on the ground that matched the ice growing in my heart, and then I blew out a sigh. “I need some time to think.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that it’s a good thing that Christmas break is here,” I answered. “I think I need a break.”
“A break from us?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” Aric’s voice hitched and his face flooded with color.
“I’m not saying that,” I said hurriedly. “I just need some time to think. We’ve got two weeks apart. Maybe we should both take some time to think.”
“I don’t need any time to think,” Aric shot back angrily.
“Well, I do.”
I waited until I had shut the apartment door behind me
before I dissolved into tears. I didn’t’ want him to see me weak, but I felt my whole world was crumbling. Again. I missed him already.