The Golden Lily (Bloodlines #2)

Once Ms. Terwilliger released me, I packed up my and Jill's costumes into their garment bags and headed into downtown. Jill was sad to let hers go but conceded that it was the right thing to do.

Lia, however, felt otherwise.

"What am I going to do with these?" she asked when I showed up at her shop. Large rhinestone hoop earrings made her dazzling to look at. "They were custom made for you."

"I'm sure you can alter them. And I'm sure they're not far off from your sample sizes anyway." I held the hangers out, and she obstinately crossed her arms. "Look, they were great.

We really appreciate what you did. But we can't keep them."

"You will keep them," she stated.

"If you don't take them, I'll just leave them on your counter," I warned.

"And I'll have them shipped back to your dorm."

I groaned. "Why is this so important to you? Why can't you take no for an answer? There are plenty of pretty girls in Palm Springs. You don't need Jill."

"That's exactly it," said Lia. "Plenty of pretty girls that all blend into each other. Jill is special.

She's a natural and doesn't even know it. She could be great someday."

"Someday," I repeated. "But not right now."

Lia attempted another approach. "The campaign is for scarves and hats. I can't do masks again, but I can put her in sunglasses - especially if we shoot outside. Tell me if you'd agree to this plan - "

"Lia, please. Don't bother."

"Just listen," she urged. "We'll go do a photo shoot. Afterward, you can go through all the pictures and throw out any that don't meet your weird religious criteria."

"No exceptions," I insisted. "And I'm leaving the dresses." I set them on a counter and headed out, ignoring Lia's protests about all the amazing things she could do for Jill. Maybe someday, I thought. Someday when all of Jill's problems are gone. Something told me that day was far away, however.

Although my loyalty to Spencer's was steadfast, a small French cafe caught my attention as I walked back to my car. Or rather, the scent of their coffee caught my attention. I had no obligations at school and stopped into the cafe for a cup. I had a book for English class on me and decided to do some reading at one of the cafe's small tables. Half of that time was spent texting back and forth with Brayden. He'd wanted to know what I was reading, and we were swapping our favorite Tennessee Williams quotes.

I'd barely been there for ten minutes when shadows fell over me, blocking the late afternoon sun. Two guys stood there, neither of whom I knew. They were a little older than me, one blond haired and blue eyed while the other was dark haired and deeply tanned. Their expressions weren't hostile, but they weren't friendly either. Both were well built, like those who trained regularly. And then, after a double-take, I realized I did recognize one of them. The dark-haired guy was the one who'd approached Sonya and me a while ago, claiming to know her from Kentucky.

Immediately, all the panic I'd been trying to suppress this last week came back to me, that sense of being trapped and helpless. It was only the realization that I was in a public place, surrounded by people, which allowed me to regard these two with astonishing calm.

"Yes?" I asked.

"We need to talk to you, Alchemist," said the blond guy.

I didn't twitch a muscle in my face. "I think you've got me mixed up with someone else."

"No one else around here has a lily tattoo," said the other guy. He'd said his name was Jeff, but I wondered if he'd told the truth. "It'd be great if you could take a walk with us." My tattoo was covered up today, but something told me these guys had been following me for a while and didn't need to see the lily to know it was there.

"Absolutely not," I said. I didn't even need Wolfe's reminders to know that was a terrible idea. I was staying here in the safety of the crowd. "If you want to talk, you'd best take a seat.

Otherwise, go away."

I looked back down at my book, like I didn't have a care in the world. Meanwhile, my heart was pounding, and it took every ounce of control I had to keep my hands from shaking. A few moments later, I heard the sounds of metal scraping on concrete, and the two guys sat down opposite me. I looked back up at their impassive faces.

"You've got to go inside if you want coffee," I remarked. "They don't have service out here."

"We're not here to talk about the coffee," said Jeff. "We're here to talk about vampires."

"Why? Are you filming a movie or something?" I asked.

"We know you hang out with them," said Blond Hair. "Including that Strigoi, Sonya Karp." Part of my tattoo's magic was to prevent Alchemists from revealing information about the vampire world to outsiders. We literally couldn't do it. The magic would kick in and prevent it if we tried. Since these guys seemed to already know about vampires, the tattoo wasn't going to censor my words. Instead, I chose to censor myself of my own free will. Something told me ignorance was the best tactic here.

"Vampires aren't real," I said. "Look, if this is some kind of a joke - "