The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines #3)

"Oh my God!"

Adrian and I jerked apart as though someone had thrown cold water on us, though our legs stayed entangled. I glanced around in a panic, half expecting to see an outraged Stanton standing over us. Instead, I looked up into the terrified face of a girl I didn't know. She wasn't even looking at us.

"You guys won't believe what happened!" she exclaimed, directing her words to our fellow artists. She pointed vaguely behind her. "Over across the street at Kappa, they found one of their girls unconscious, and they can't wake her up. I don't know what happened, but it sounds like she was attacked. There's police out front and everything."

Adrian and I stared at each other for one shocked moment. Then, wordlessly, we both stood up. He held my hand to steady me until my trembling legs strengthened. I'm weak because of this news, I told myself. Not because I was just making out with a vampire.

But those dangerous and intoxicating kisses faded almost instantly when we returned to Lynne's sorority. It was busy with frightened people, and campus security moved in and out, allowing us to step right inside the open door.

"What happened?" I asked a brunette standing nearby.

"It's Lynne," she said, biting her lips. "They just found her in an empty auditorium."

Something in the way she spoke made me uneasy. "Is she . . . alive?"

The girl nodded. "I don't know . . . I think so, but they said there's something really wrong. She's unconscious and looks . . . well . . . old."

I met Adrian's eyes and vaguely noticed he had silver paint in his hair. I'd still been holding the brush when I'd wrapped my arms around him. "Damn," he murmured. "Too late."

I wanted to scream in frustration. We'd been so close to warning her. She'd allegedly left just before we'd arrived. What if we'd come sooner? What if we'd visited her before the other two girls? I'd chosen the order randomly. Worse, what if we'd been able to find her instead of having art time with the drunken sorority girls?

What if I hadn't been all over Adrian? Or maybe he'd been all over me. Whatever you wanted to call it, I hadn't exactly resisted.

The more we learned, however, the more unlikely it seemed we would've been able to do anything if we'd stuck around Lynne's house and investigated. Nobody knew where she'd gone. Only one person had seen her leave, a girl with curly blond hair who frustrated the campus police with her vague answers.

"I'm sorry," she kept saying. "I just . . . I can't remember the girl she left with."

"Nothing?" asked one of the officers. "Height? Age? Hair color?"

The girl frowned, looking as though she was using every ounce of mental effort. At last, she sagged in defeat and shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"Did she have black hair?" I suggested.

The girl brightened a little. "Maybe. Er, wait. It might have been brown. No. Red, maybe?"

Adrian and I stepped away, knowing we could do no more. "That girl seems awfully confused," I said as we walked back to my car.

"She certainly does," he agreed. "Sound familiar?"

"Very," I muttered, recognizing the signs of magic.

No one could deny it. Veronica had been here. And we'd been too late to stop her.

Chapter Twelve

I FELT LIKE A FAILURE when I delivered Ms. Terwilliger the news before classes the next day.

She told me, her face pale and grim, that there was nothing I could've done. But I didn't know if I believed that. I still berated myself with the same questions as last night. What if I hadn't spent the previous day with Marcus? What if I hadn't spent so much time making sure the Mustang was taken care of? What if I hadn't been engaged in a massive public display of affection on the floor with Adrian? I'd let personal matters interfere, and now a girl had paid with her life. I wanted to skip school and warn the others immediately, but Ms. Terwilliger assured me that Veronica wouldn't be able to feed so quickly. She told me waiting until later in the day would be fine.

I gave a reluctant nod and returned to my desk, figuring I'd try to read until class started. I didn't expect to have much success. "Miss Melbourne?" she called. I glanced back and saw that her sad expression had lightened up a little. She almost looked amused, which seemed weird, given the situation.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You might want to do something about your neck."

I was totally lost. "My neck?"

She reached into her purse and handed me a compact mirror. I opened it and surveyed my neck, still trying to figure out what she could be talking about. Then I saw it. A small, brownish purple bruise on the side of my neck.

"What on earth is that?" I exclaimed.

Ms. Terwilliger snorted. "Although it's been a while for me, I believe the technical term is a hickey" She paused and arched an eyebrow. "You do know what that is, don't you?"