The news of the body in the woods spreads like the plague. By lunch it’s all anyone is talking about. I sit with Shaye in the dining hall, feeling the need for a little vampire contact. My mood is abysmal, though, and even Shaye’s outrageous clothes can’t get a smile out of me. We’re both feeding heavily today. As Shaye starts on her third glass, she notices me eyeing her. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her drink so much in one sitting.
“What? I have to keep my strength up,” she says by way of explanation. “I’ve been tired lately. I don’t want to have a relapse.”
Her words cut me. Her tone is light, but it’s a reminder of what a poor friend I’ve been. I haven’t asked her how she’s doing in weeks. We barely had the chance to talk about her meeting with Dr. Philips on New Year’s Eve. At the time she’d been far more interested in hearing about how Nik cornered me with the unsolicited and unwanted kiss. I remember she’d been jealous again. Not that I’d kissed Nik. She’d thought that was great news, being that she thinks he’s divine. She’d been jealous that he was free to publicly display his feelings for me, something she and Keegan couldn’t do.
“I’m a terrible friend,” I blurt out. “I’ve been so focused on my own problems that I haven’t been there for you.” I know I’ve been selfish. Sure, I didn’t want to burden her with my troubles, but I also didn’t want to share them. “How are you doing Shaye?”
“I’m fine. Really. What about you?” She resumes sucking on her straw. I watch as the red fluid climbs to the top and disappears beyond her lips.
“I don’t know. I feel like I’m losing my mind. This thing in Rutland has me worried.” I toy with my own straw, swirling the blood in my glass.
“Tell me about it. They’d better get it figured out quickly. It’s bad for us, but it’s also going to be bad for summer tourism if it gets much worse.”
“Do you think it could really be someone here?”
“Why not? It probably wouldn’t be the first time someone at Crossroads has killed, and there are a lot of students with off-campus privileges. Plus, there’s always the faculty and staff to consider,” she whispers leaning closer. “Keegan’s worried the staff is going to bear the blame if this is traced back to the school.”
“You mean as scapegoats?”
“Think about it.” She shrugs and pushes her glass aside. “If a student did this, someone from money, you don’t think innocence could be bought? No disrespect to your Uncle, but I have no doubt the New York coven would much rather place blame on a mixed-blood than one of their own golden children given the opportunity. Any of the covens would.”
She’s not wrong there.
“What do you think happened to the boy? To Damian?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Damian is dead.” Even as I say the words, I know they’re true. There will be two more grieving parents gathering at the Angel of Hope for the candle lighting ceremony next December. This realization weighs heavily on me as I mourn silently for a young life snuffed out too soon. “I saved his life once,” I continue, wanting to get this burden off my chest.
“What? When?” She’s confused. Of course she is. This is no small thing, and she can’t believe I haven’t mentioned it sooner.
“Remember when we went Christmas shopping?” She nods but doesn’t say a word. She’s probably afraid I’ll change my mind and won’t finish the story. “You were in the book store, Amy’s, when it happened. I was sitting on the bench, and he came running by. He was so full of life, laughing and carrying on. Anyway, he slipped on the ice and fell in front of oncoming traffic. I pulled him out of the street. It was no big deal, so I didn’t mention it before.” I know I’m downplaying the intensity of the whole thing, but I don’t want her to get weirded out.
“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry. That must make this whole thing even more difficult for you.” She chews on her bottom lip, unsure of what to say next.
“It’s upsetting either way,” I tell her. “I don’t know. Maybe we’re rushing to judgment. Maybe the body in the woods was attacked by a bear, and who knows where Damian is? It’s terrible to say, but bad things happen all the time. Not all of them at the hands of vampires.”
“There’s only one way we’re going to know for sure,” she agrees quietly.
We both know the only way to get conclusive evidence, and it’s something neither of us wants to voice: more bodies.