Page 34 of What Happened on Roslyn Street? (Strode University #1)

Chapter Twenty-Three

I t’s fitting—and proof I’m cursed—that my first friend at Strode is the killer. Looking back, it makes too much sense. The way she singled me out in the beginning, the way she tried to get me alone for dinner in the end… and that she went missing moments at the time of the final death.

We arrive at Strode the next morning. It’s too early for classes or breakfast. By the grace of whatever screwed-up God—or demon—is in charge, we made it inside without being spotted.

How long it takes before Professor Cruz realizes we’re gone is another story.

“She’s in there,” Margaux says, with her ear pressed to the wall of our dormitory.

The killer doesn’t know it yet, but we have her exactly where we want her. Margaux is the only one with subtle enough senses to hear Amelia shuffling around her bedroom.

“I hate that we’re doing this here,” I mutter, unsure of how dirty our hands will have to get .

Will we be able to get proof of the murders, or… will we have to take matters into our own hands and hope for the best?

This may not be a favorable location for the latter.

“What do you consider the prime location to kill a killer?” Margaux asks dryly, making her way to the door. “Come on. If we keep blabbing, she’ll hear us.”

That’s the problem with going up against another vampire. She has the same strength and gifts that Margaux does.

I remind myself of the stake strapped to my thigh, but it offers little security. Having Margaux’s help is a small comfort, but we’re still going up against a member of the undead. There’s no saying how it will end.

Caldwell and Margaux hide, and I prepare for my part.

After all I’ve done for the cause, I’m throwing myself into the metaphorical den of lions. At least it’s only one lion, I suppose.

I tap my knuckles against the door. Even with the knowledge that Amelia is inside, I’m half-hoping she doesn’t answer.

Caldwell thinks I’m brave, but I’m not sure he’s right. When the door swings open, I feel like a coward, fighting the urge to run and hide.

I plaster a smile on my face, all too aware that she can hear the rabid beating of my heart. I manage to keep my hand steady, holding out one of the coffees as an offering.

“Morning!” I chirp.

Amelia greets me with a smile—is it a hungry one, or has paranoia taken me for a ride?

“Tobey!” There’s a genuine surprise in her features—I think. Good. She reaches to take the coffee, her head tilting to the side. “It’s been so long! To what do I owe the pleasure? ”

“I know we keep planning dinners, but… I’ve just been so busy! So, I stopped by my favorite café for coffee this morning, and I was like… you know what? Let’s get Amelia a treat!” Why can’t I shut up? “You’re always hard at work in class, and, you know, you deserve treats too!”

“You know what?” She giggles, stepping aside to let me in. “You’re so right! And I can’t think of a better coffee date than one with you.”

Before she can shut the door, Margaux barges in behind me.

Amelia’s face shifts from bliss to confusion, her bright eyes widening. They grow even rounder as Caldwell slowly joins us, shutting the door with a soft click.

He twirls a stake in his fingers, his eyes never leaving Amelia.

“You’re going to be quiet,” he says calmly.

Amelia nods, stumbling back until she collapses on the bed.

“Good,” Margaux purrs, smiling sweetly. She stalks toward the bed, fangs flashing, clutching a stake of her own. “Now, set the coffee down.”

Amelia listens without question, setting the cup down by her feet. “O-okay…”

“And drop the act.” Margaux rolls her eyes.

“Tobey…” Amelia’s gaze shifts in my direction. She looks so pitiful that my heart sinks. “What’s happening? I thought we were having a coffee date!”

What if Caldwell made a mistake?

Trusting him is the only option. I can’t think that way.

I breathe in shakily, not sure how to talk to her. Until my phone is out, I say nothing, pressing record. I make sure her face is in the frame.

“Amelia,” I say. “We know what happened—with you and with the students on campus. We know you were involved.”

“What are you talking about?” Her eyes flash. It’s a subtle shift, a narrowing. The confused frown is still firmly on her face. “Do you have any proof?”

It’s not an answer—but it’s not a denial. I exchange a look with Caldwell.

“You’re going to give us proof,” Margaux says sweetly, poking the stake into Amelia’s chest. “Or I’m going to use this. Don’t think I’m afraid to. Unlike you, I know how to clean up my messes.”

I don’t know how to feel about this version of Margaux. I look away as discomfort takes the front seat.

It’s for Poppy. Margaux can say or do anything if it means we catch Poppy’s killer.

Amelia laughs, her demeanor shifting. I turn my attention back to make sure I get it on camera.

Bubbly, awkward Amelia oozes confidence. She leans into the stake, pressing it harder against her chest.

“I don’t think you do,” Amelia says, pouting. “Maybe your daddy does, but do you think he wants to clean up more of your messes?”

That strikes a nerve with Margaux. “Shut up!”

She’s never been one to anger quickly, but Amelia knows just how to get to her. Anger flashes red in my friend’s eyes.

“Margaux,” I murmur, moving closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t let her get to you.”

“Yeah, Margaux.” Amelia is taunting me. She fixes me with a smile I’ve never seen before. “Listen to your stupid, human pet.”

My jaw drops. “You know I’m a human?”

“Everyone knows.” Amelia rolls her eyes. “No one believed your pathetic lie. Do you think you fooled admissions?”

“I…” I shake my head.

“You think you’re so smart,” Amelia says, “but you are constantly in your way. You pay attention to all the wrong things, and you miss the answers that are right under your nose.”

I recoil. “You do realize I’m recording, right?”

“Yes,” Amelia says. “And you must realize I don’t care. You’re going to delete the video, and you’re going to let me go.”

Caldwell finally makes a sound. A laugh comes from behind me, and it’s louder than any I’ve heard from him.

“That’s a funny joke,” he says. “Do you know what you’ve taken from us? From me ?”

That stupid, condescending pout is back on Amelia’s face.

“Your mommy?” Amelia asks. “Your friend? When are you going to realize this was never personal?”

“Why does that matter?” Margaux asks. The stake in her hand shakes. “You’re killing people.”

“People die, Margaux.” Amelia says. “You’re going to be immortal someday. Get used to losing the people you care about. Poppy died, and soon… Tobey will die, too.”

“No, she won’t,” Margaux says.

“She will. She has to. It might happen today or fifty years from now, but it will happen,” Amelia says. “And you? You’re going to look exactly like this, but a lot lonelier.”

“Stop it!” Margaux screams. “You don’t know me! Why are you talking about me like you do?”

Margaux doesn’t act quickly enough— and Amelia does.

Amelia’s hand is on the stake in a flash, easily wrestling it from Margaux’s shaking hold.

They’re a perfect match for each other’s strengths, but Amelia has the element of surprise. She pushes Margaux down, sending the dhampir tumbling against a wall.

When Amelia turns to me, the smile on her face is hungry. She’s been hunting me all along, and now I know she wasn’t hunting me for friendship.

She stalks me like prey, moving closer with graceful, fluid motions until I have nowhere to go. I’m backed against a wall.

“You are here for a reason. We had plans for you.” Amelia frowns. “But you ruined everything. That’s the story of your life, isn’t it? You ruined your friendship with Margaux.”

How does she know so much?

“Maybe if you had been a better friend to Poppy,” Amelia says, “she wouldn’t have come running to me .”

“I loved Poppy.” I tremble from head to toe. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Is that what happened? Margaux and I left Poppy alone, and she ran to a vampire for comfort. I shouldn’t listen to Amelia, but I do—and guilt squeezes around me like a vice.

I’m small. I’m weak. I want to disappear.

“Love isn’t enough. You were missing one valuable gift: time.” Amelia traces her nails over my neck. The action is almost affectionate. “It’s something Margaux has in abundance, but you didn’t have enough for Poppy. You weren’t there for her. Neither of you were.”

“I was!” I yell, tears welling in my eyes.

“You weren’t !” Amelia presses her nails harder against my skin, hard enough to draw blood.

I yelp .

“She told me you weren’t,” Amelia says. “You’re a bad friend—that’s why you skipped dinner with me. I gave you a chance to prove that you’re good, that you didn’t abandon Poppy. You did the opposite. You showed me how worthless you are.”

“Tobey,” Caldwell says. “She’s wrong.”

My eyes shift in his direction, but in a flash, Amelia’s hand is on my face.

“Don’t look at him. Look at me.” She turns my head by force, making me look at her.

I do as she asks, fixing her with a death glare.

“At least you and Poppy will die in the same way,” Amelia purrs. “And no one will ever know.”

Her fangs descend, and, in an instance, Amelia is the monster I’ve always known vampires to be. Her eyes flash red, and she swoops in, her fangs brushing against my neck.

I sob, waiting for the pierce of her pointed teeth.

Amelia underestimated Caldwell. He’s on her before she can take a bite. He thrusts the stake into her back, grunting as he pushes it in.

Amelia’s eyes widen. This time, her fear is genuine.

Her body turns to stone. She falls to the ground. Amelia crumbles into a pile of ash.

My hand flies to my chest in an attempt to calm my breathing. My eyes are glued shut. In an instant, Margaux and Caldwell are around me, soft words and touches from their hands comfort me.

None of it helps. I’m a million miles away. I’m going with Poppy. I can’t breathe. I can’t speak.

All I hear is static. TV static, a sound I haven’t heard since I was young. It’s nostalgic and innocent.

I don’t realize they’re hearing it, too, until their heads turn slowly to the computer monitor on the desk.

A bird mask is on the screen. The head tilts to the side. Their eyes flash red behind the mask.

When they speak, it’s in a low, growling tone: “You killed one, but you cannot kill us all. We are as ancient as they come, and the nonbelievers will fall.”