Page 16

The limited furniture we had in our suite was broken and splintered, and the plaster cracked and broken in places, revealing the brick and stone beneath. Pillows were ripped open, and the area was blanketed in piles of fresh, powdery snow.

Thin lines of blood zigged and zagged towards me on the floor as they followed the seams in the hardwood floors, and I followed them with my eyes to their source. Feeding them was a large pool of blood that was stretching out across the floor from my bedroom, the source.

The bedroom door was missing, which was a feat in itself, and the doorway had smeared bloody handprints and razor-thin marks cut into the frame, leading away from the bedroom. Darkened blood was smeared across the walls, and drag marks and footprints stained the floor in the living area.

Without conscious effort, I moved over the mess and floor, as if floating, to my room to see who or what was the source of the blood.

It was as if something was pulling me along, forcing me to see this, to bear witness.

The unmistakable stench of evil, and the stomach-turning smell from the pools of blood throughout my suite, should have made me puke up the Italian food I just gorged myself on, but the emotional impact and pain of seeing Viggo's body in my bedroom effectively froze me in place.

It was a bloody fight.

Deep, thin, lethal gashes across his throat painted the walls in arterial spray, but that wasn't what killed him.

"No, no, no, no," I stammered.

When I started towards him, something pulled me backward, away from him, and back into the kitchenette, to the skin-crawling sound of nails drumming against the kitchen counter that stole my attention.

I turned to see the source of the sound, and opened my mouth to scream, to alert the others in the dorm, but my warning was choked out by the icy, clawed hand that wrapped around my throat.

"Hello, My Precious Pet," the male snarled.

It didn't look like the creepy King from my last nightmare, his face was different, but the voice was the same...

As was the black spidering and burns on his neck that matched the size of my hand, and the purple scaring from the electrical currents.

That wasn't normal, but I have to admit Evil Ari did impressive work.

"You have been a very, very naughty little girl," he scolded.

"What?" I innocently asked. "I thought the makeover would give you street cred in the world of devilry."

If I kept his attention, he wouldn't go to my bedroom and see Viggo.

If he didn't see Viggo, he wouldn't know I was entertaining a Vampire Prince, thus giving the creepy old dude with an ego and severe psychological issues a means to hurt me.

I could handle him now that I knew it was possible.

He gave me a look. "I do not require street cred to be feared... Shut up!" he snapped at me when I chuckled. "You have no idea how long I have been waiting for you," he said.

I shook my head and then held my hand out. "You should have waited a bit longer," I said.

He looked from me to my hand. "Soon, My Precious Pet, we will be together, forever," he informed me. "But you need to behave yourself and stop this foolishness. You cannot continue to study the forbidden arts as you have..." he warned as his words started to trail away.

"Wait, what?" I asked, confused before choking when he squeezed my throat.

"Thank you for the opening," was purred before laughing, paradoxical laughter that echoed all around me assaulted my eardrums, and caused my eyes to twitch before it faded to an annoying trill. "Too easy," they mockingly whispered in my ear. "Insultingly easy," was tauntingly said as if they were being pulled away from me. "It is as if they are writing the story for me."

Again, paradoxical laughter followed and it caused my entire body to constrict from the assault on my psyche that laughter caused.

"Ariadne," Viggo said, shaking my shoulder.

I swatted his hands away, fighting the urge to attack him.

I knew it was Viggo.

I knew he was real.

His touch, the way he smells, the warmth of his caress, the way he talks...

It was Viggo...

And he knew my name.

When my vision cleared, I was looking up at him from the floor.

I sat up in a rush and looked around, head snapping from side to side, but everything was in perfect order.

"Who said that?" I demanded, looking around, spinning around in a defensive crouch.

"Ariadne," Viggo said again from next to me, his hands on my shoulders. "What is wrong? What did you see?"

How does he know my name?

No one calls me Ariadne!

On a very rare occasion, my parents do when I'm in major trouble.

Even my school admission records didn't have my birth name listed.

"How do you know my name?" I demanded, but it came out as a choked sob.

Viggo's face dropped, and he opened his mouth more than once, but nothing came out.

All I could see when I looked at him was blood and claw marks, his beautiful green eyes glassy and lifeless, full lips pallid blue, blood pooling around him from being ripped wide open.

The tears flooding my eyes distorted my view of his handsome face, and unable to stop myself, I wrapped my arms over my head and started rocking.

"It was just a dream. It was just a dream. Wake up, wake up, wake up!" I shouted. "Damn it, why aren't I waking up?" I demanded.

"Ariadne, what is wrong?" Viggo pleaded, trying to pry my arms from my head. "Please, ma biche, talk to me. What is wrong?"

"Why can't I wake up?" I stammered, tears staining my cheeks.

I never cry!

Not even as a child did I cry.

"You are awake," Viggo assured me, frantically wiping away my tears with his thumbs. "What happened, what did you see?"

"Your death," I said in a voice that was so eerily level and unnatural, that it startled both of us, and he leaned away from me.

It was Death herself informing Viggo that he was going to die, and soon.

Viggo ran to the door and then threw it open before shouting out for assistance.

If I had been more coherent, I would have told him to get the hell out and that the very last thing I needed was a Dorm Mother or Dormitory Master in here putting their noses in my business.

Harper, Slevin, and I had gone to great lengths to keep those of authority in our dormitory from getting involved in our living arrangements and lives as much as possible.

But I couldn't do anything other than rock with my arms over my head, trying to get the images from my mind as tears continued to stain my cheeks or to get the laughter echoing in my bleeding ears to stop.

"Make it stop. Make it stop!" I pleaded.

Harper and Slevin came rushing in before those of authority in our dormitory could even make it up the stairs.

Instantly Slevin was hurrying to me.

And of course, Harper got in Viggo's face and tried to shove him through the doorway and out of our suite, but Viggo was unmoving stone.

"Ari, can you hear me?" Slevin asked, trying to get my rocking to stop.

Of course, I could hear him, barely over the laughter, but I couldn't articulate anything.

It was as if my uncontrollably trembling lips were made of stone, my tongue was stuck in place in my mouth, and the tears flooding my eyes were solely meant to keep me from seeing clearly.

None of this was right.

"Ariadne does not have time for this!" Viggo yelled, pushing Harper off of him, sending him flying across the room and into the wall.

A crowd started gathering outside in the hallway, I could hear them taking bets on who would win between Harper and Viggo.

"She was perfectly fine until you came around!" Harper shot back, struggling to keep from phasing into his beast form.

"Look at the dark circles under her eyes, is that perfectly fine?" Viggo retorted. "Even with magical healing they will not go away," he argued.

When did I get magically healed?

"The exhaustion Ariadne is suffering from goes beyond physical, it is an exhaustion of the soul, something you have overlooked and not addressed for much too long!" Viggo sneered, accusingly. "What kind of Sentinel-" his words abruptly cut off when Harper punched him in the face and it was answered by a fist to the stomach from Viggo.

"This is not going to end well," Slevin grumbled, splitting his attention between the two that ended up landing on the couch, breaking it.

Was this like my vision?

It wasn't snowing, was it?

I struggled to open my mouth, to tell them to stop, that Harper couldn't do this to Viggo, and that I couldn't handle losing him, but my mouth wouldn't open.

And every time I felt as if I was starting to gain a bit of ground against my frozen mouth, or could move my limbs in order to motion to them, my body would painfully constrict, each of my muscles constricted, contorting my body, and it felt as if something was ripping at me from the inside out.

Eventually, the staff pushed their way through the crowded hallway and hurried to the living room; it took six Masters to pull Viggo and Harper off of each other.

"What is the meaning of this?" Matron Beth demanded.

"Something is wrong with her," Slevin said, caressing my head.

"What do you mean?" Master Pachi asked in a panic, hurrying to my side. "Ari, can you hear me?" he asked, putting his hands on my shoulders to stop my rocking.

When Master Pachi touched me, an agonizing burning sensation ripped through my body.

It felt as if I was being ripped apart from the inside out, my muscles contracted even tighter, my bones felt as if they were all breaking, and my lungs were compressed to the point of suffocating me.

Violently I started convulsing and my eyes rolled back, and as if my body had a mind of its own, my fist snapped out and punched Master Pachi in the face, knocking him away from me.

I wanted to apologize.

"Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius!" someone snarled.

It sounded as if it came from me, but it couldn't have come from my mouth, could it have?

Before I could attempt to apologize to the stunned old male I nearly knocked out, a large mass came towards me in a rush, the large shadow stretching out from behind it was created by some form of bright light that came from within and it floated over to me.

The moment something was secured around my neck, the source of the purest form of light I had ever seen, an ear-splitting scream of unbridled rage mixed with pain filled the air, and it was followed by the shattering of glass before everything went dark.