It was written down for the beginning of the October. Three weeks ago. I’d been so busy scaring off naked men and investigating the murders that I hadn’t thought about something as unimportant as my period. Until I missed it. I hadn’t had my period in over a month.
For one earth-shatteringly scary second, I panicked.
I’m pregnant. It was sad how much scarier that thought was than realizing I’d died at the Awakening, or facing death in the weeks that followed.
The panic subsided. Considering I’d never done the deed, pregnancy just wasn’t possible—at least I didn’t think it was. When it came to the supernatural world, I could never be positive.
A more logical answer crept up on me. I was becoming a vampire, which meant that I was dying. So naturally, one of the first things to go would be my ability to support life. That meant no more periods.
My phone interrupted my thoughts. I pulled the vibrating smartphone out of my bag. Caleb had sent me a text.
Hey, want to meet up tonight? Investigation, dinner, and a movie?
Crap. I’d forgotten that I was supposed to work on the case with Caleb. Instead I was leaving him hanging to investigate with Andre. I felt a twinge of guilt before I reminded myself that the truce was at stake.
I typed a quick response. Can’t. Sorry.
Why not?
Nosey much? My fingers moved over the digital keypad. Group orgy.
A couple students gave me dirty looks as my phone vibrated for a third time. Then they saw who exactly was disrupting their quiet and their expressions went from annoyed to meek real quick.
Really? Can I come?
I packed up my belongings and left the room. Nope. Vampires only.
My phone buzzed. That’s kinky.
Just stop, I wrote back.
You started it.
Talk to you later. I should’ve told him right then and there that I was serious about the vampire part of my message. Andre and I would be investigating the crimes tonight.
I knew when Caleb found out he’d be hurt and pissed, both because I was working on the investigation without him and because I was working on it with Andre, the man who left him for dead. He didn’t yet know that the Politia had asked me to reconnect with Andre, and more importantly, he didn’t know Andre and I were soulmates. But once he did, things were bound to get stickier between us.
I was postponing the inevitable by not telling him, but hell, I needed a momentary break from drama. My life already had too much of it.
***
An hour after the sun had set, I felt the first thrum of energy. I glanced out my window. A black sports car entered Peel campus.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Leanne said, not bothering to look away from her homework.
I should’ve known that my roommate foresaw my evening. “Is there something I should be worried about?”
The hand that held her pen shook. “Not if you’re careful.”
Unease coiled at the pit of my stomach. I opened my mouth to ask her what she’d seen when she cut me off. “Gabrielle, I’ve foreseen a lot of strange things concerning you, most of which have not come to pass. You’ve outwitted fate over and over again.”
I’ve been outwitting fate? Considering that fate was actually three women, I wondered just which one of them I was outsmarting. I really hoped I wasn’t pissing her off. Having a fate angry with you was probably a dangerous thing.
“Just be your normal, pragmatic self, and everything will be alright,” Leanne said. “That I have foreseen.” I could tell by the clip of her voice that was all she was going to tell me.
I cocked my head, my eyes lingering on her as she continued to work on homework. I thought my roommate was an open book, but Leanne’s cryptic warning made me think that she hid a lot of herself from everyone around her, including me.
If I could’ve guessed, I’d say that Leanne knew more about my future than she was letting on, and it was probably for my benefit.
But the only reason I wouldn’t tell a friend about their future was if it was bad.
I swallowed. She had told me about foreseeing my death. If she was willing to tell me that, then what premonitions were too horrible to speak of?
***
I exited my building. Outside, Andre leaned against his sports car, clad in a black T-shirt that clung to his muscular torso and sculpted arms, and pants that fit him in all the right areas. The outfit was more casual than Andre’s usual—and lighter than what the weather called for—but I wasn’t complaining.
Behind him, a cluster of students took pictures of him as they passed on their way to the castle.
I was sure he was aware of the attention, but he acted as though he wasn’t.
“Miss me?” he asked.