“Doctor De La Cruz, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He shook his head, grimacing. “Never mind.”
I stopped in my tracks, and he did the same. Somewhere in the distance, fireworks went off. I realized, belatedly, that there had been music in the air. I hadn’t noticed—I’d been too focused on Eli.
“Tell me.”
“I suppose you’ve shown me your crazy,” Eli said with a little laugh. “I had a dream that you were French. And from, like, the Middle Ages or something.” He paused, grinning sheepishly. “Pretty weird, right?”
Impossible.
Unease threaded through me, and I was certain he saw it on my face, because his smile faltered. “Nicolas? That’s strange, right?”
He had to be some sort of psychic. Perhaps he had tuned into me somehow—a terrible thought, because I was certain he wouldn’t like what he saw if he dug any deeper.
Maybe he was some sort of witch. Perhaps one unaware of his magical ancestry? Rare, as most witches went to great lengths to preserve their bloodlines—but not unheard of. It would explain why he couldn’t be hypnotized. Witches tended to be immune to vampiric mind control.
“It’s strange you dreamed of that, yes,” I said carefully. Then I paused, my brain scrambling for anything to change the subject. Naturally, I defaulted to the list of questions Harris had given me. “Do you believe in fate, or do we make our own choices?”
Eli stared at me. “You’re asking me that right now? After I just told you about my bizarro-world dream?”
“Don’t worry, Doctor. You’re at least as sane as I am.”
“There’s a scary thought.”
I tried not to take offense.
“Both,” he said at last. “But I don’t know if I think fate is some cosmic force of the universe or whatever. I guess it could be. But our choices matter, too.”
“If you believe fate exists but isn’t a cosmic force, then what else would it be?”
“A system of circumstances and forces acting on us in subtle, constant ways,” Eli said immediately. “Like, technically, I could hop on a plane and fly to China tomorrow. That’s free will. But I won’t. I have responsibilities. Obligations. Past conditioning from all my experiences. The social expectations of everyone around me. The fact that if I left, Sam wouldn’t be okay. All of that, if you put it together, means our choices aren’t nearly as unlimited as people think.”
“True,” I allowed.
“It’s a kind of fate, and everyone’s is a little—or a lot—different, depending on who they are and what circumstances they’re either born into or fall into. Someone born to a wealthy family in the U.S. has a very different fate than someone born poor. They have different forces acting on them. Their choices aren’t the same.”
“You don’t believe in anything mysterious or otherworldly?”
“I’m a doctor. Medicine is a science. And if it can’t be measured, it doesn’t exist,” Eli said. But he sounded almost doubtful. He gave me a strange, searching look. “Do you believe in otherworldly things?”
“Naturally.”
“And why is that, Cole?”
“No.”
“No?” Eli’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, no?”
“I don’t want to sully our date with things that might alarm you,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “And you’re entitled to your view of the world.”
Eli’s eyebrows knitted as he studied me. “You’re protecting me.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t doing a very good job of it, was I?
“I like you,” I said simply. “And I don’t wish for any ill to befall you.”
“Why?” Eli demanded.
