No.
I think of the silver cross he gave me. That feigned worry. The slight frown when he said my name,Cassie,because he knew it wasn’t my real name.
It doesn’t make sense. It couldn’t be him.
I stumble down the stairs to the tunnel, vision blurring. I still can’t remember most of prom, but enough, the parts he didn’t compel me to forget, are suddenly crystal clear, awakened by Julia’s painting. Why was he at my prom?
No—my life before my parents’ deaths was normal. Human.
I press my nails to my eyelids, swallowing hard. I blink away tears, staring around the tunnel, as I hear Vicki’s voice in my head and the thing she said the morning after prom, which had never made sense tome.
Everyone saw you kissing the bassist!
My blood boils, and the ringing in my ears finally stops.
I breathe. Panic replaced by fury.
What the fuck did he do tome?
Chapter
Thirty-One
A part of me still thinks I’m wrong. Maybe the Familiar’s mark is making me paranoid. Nocth did say it can drive people insane. But those memories, those flashes of that night, feel real. I wade down to the Cat’s Tail, taking the third staircase leading to the music hall.
He’s playing already, each note sharp like a cut, as if he’s running his bow over my veins, the strings drawing blood. I steady my breathing. I open the back door to the hall. Ife raises her brows when she sees me. “You could have waited for me,” she whispers. “Where did you run off to?”
“I felt a bit nauseous,” I whisper back.
I think back to Julia’s painting and compare it to my own memories. He had been wearing a plain white T-shirt and torn jeans. I watch him now as he puts his cello on its stand. His suit is perfectly cut, hair brushed back from his eyes.
His voice, as he delves into a lecture on one of his own experimental operas, has a suffocating quality to it now.
Does he rememberme?
I think back to our first meeting. Him calling me to the front of the class, telling me his office was a safe place. Was he waiting for me to recognise him?
The lecture feels longer, each second dragging as both fear and expectation inch forward.
I didn’t know vampires existed until Penny foundme.
Had I been of sound mind, I may have not believed her. But when she offered me revenge, I travelled back down to London. I followed her into the deepest corner of the abandoned convent where she kept her prisoners. The first vampire I ever laid eyes on was a Convert, a woman with sunken cheeks and sharp fangs who Penny had kept alive just forme.
I always pictured that vampire, with her crimson eyes, her wild expression, as the first. As my gateway into this world. But she wasn’t.
It was Gustavsson.
People around us start to get up, benches screeching as they head out of the music hall. Ife puts her laptop into her bag, a tight curl falling over her face.
“Cassie, can I have a word?” his voice calls. I play with my watch and nod.
“Again?” Ife asks.
“Don’t worry,” I say. If she says something else, I don’t hear her, my ears ringing again. I push myself up. I have a gun and two rounds of bullets in my satchel. A stake, though I’d rather not use it today. If I want answers, I need him alive.
I try to remember. See it again. The hotel, the stage. But the night is still a blur. I try to bring Julia’s painting to life in my head, but it remains static. I reach the front of the classroom, and his eyes lock with mine. The back of my head tingles.
“Cassie,” he says, flashing me a perfect smile. “I read through your proposal. Ravel is interesting enough, but it would be a good idea for you to include a woman composer as well. You remember Campbell?”
