I hoped she was right and that she wasn’t helping me in vain. That this actually would be one step toward unraveling the mystery of the island. Because I really liked my peculiar, unpredictable young roomie, and it would devastate me to lose her as I’d lost Amanda and Judge.

When Mei spoke again, her question was the last one I’d expected. “Is this about that vampire you like?”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on,” she said at once. Then she laughed, and I realized I’d never heard her laugh before. It was a high, tittering sound that made me smile despite myself. “You may be able to use your brashness to manipulate and confuse other people, but it doesn’t fool me.”

“Wait.” My hands dropped to my lap. “Full stop. My brashness?”

“Yes,” she said, trying not to smile. “Arrogance seemed too harsh a word.”

“Wow.” I gave a little breathy laugh, amazed at this study of my character. “Well, thanks, I guess. So, you’re saying I’m—what?—brash? And that I use it to confuse people?”

She shrugged. Her eyes didn’t budge from me, and they were unflinchingly honest and steady. “Maybe cocky is the better word.”

I laughed nervously. “I like your style, Mei-Ling. Very Mei-the-Merciless.”

“See,” she said, not to be interrupted. “Just like that. You’re dismissive and pretend to be careless, and it confounds people. Nobody ends up seeing the real you. Then they either fear you or hate you, or they just help you, hoping you’ll help them someday.”

I had been smiling at this bizarre evaluation, but that last statement gutted me. I was reminded how Josh had offered his help, claiming an alliance with me was only smart. “You think people help me because they fear me? That just kind of completely bums me out.”

She put a tentative hand on my arm. “Not all of us. Not those of us who really know you. We really like you.”

I shook my head, unsure what to make of it all. “You’re way too much, Mei-Ling.”

“So what’s the answer?”

I laughed again, getting back to my stake, picking up the carving stroke where I’d stopped. My hands were a little shaky after all those true confessions. “You’re relentless. I don’t even remember the question after all that.”

Her smile was prim, and it made her look all of fourteen years old. “Is this all about the vampire you like?”

Discussing Carden seemed like child’s play after my very own character assassination, and I caved. Anything to change the subject. “Okay. You win. It’s about Carden, the vampire I like.” I caught her eye. “Is that what you were after?”

I could only hope she’d noticed my thing with Carden because we were roommates and roommates noticed things and not because my attachment to him was so obvious.

“What’s the deal with you two?” Mei-Ling’s question was probing, but her gaze was glued to the star and stake in my hands.

Her averted eyes somehow made it easier to reply. “The deal…” I wouldn’t tell her about the bond, but if she was going to risk her life to help me, I owed her a partial truth. “The deal is, I really like him.”

She made a face. “But why? He’s a vampire.”

“Why? He’s just different,” I said, without thinking.

Her brows scrunched even more. “How?”

“How…” I wondered just that. There was the bond. Obviously. But I couldn’t tell her that. I trusted her, but that seemed like information that could get her killed, and I was exposing her to enough risk already.

So what else was there? Why did I feel strongly enough about Carden that I’d risk my life—risk my friend’s life—to save him?

“He treats me like a real person,” I began, trying to put exact words to my feelings. I swept the blade down the wood, sharpening it, putting all my emotion behind it. I opened my mind, opened my heart, probing just what it was that I felt. “Like I’m my own unique individual. Not some kid, or someone who’s been slapped around, or someone who’s good at school. Maybe it was because we met on the other island, away from here, without a context. But when I met Carden, he met me as me.”

I considered my feelings in light of what Mei had just said about me. Carden didn’t fear me—the thought was laughable. And he definitely didn’t need my help. He needed me, because of the bond—but I imagined he could bond with any pretty young thing.

No, he liked me. And I liked him. He made me laugh. He was light where I was dark, seeing the humor in things that’d felt so grimly serious to me. Carden gave me hope.

I couldn’t lose that hope.

“I think I need him.” It went beyond the physical need of our bond. To lose Carden now would make me feel lost. It would steal my purpose, my hope. “I can’t lose him,” I told her, and it felt like a confession, dredged from the darkest depths of my soul.

“Then count me in.” She’d completed a stake, and she put it on the bed with confidence. It was crude, marbled red and brown and black where she’d scraped the paint from the wood, but it looked sharp. It looked like something that could pierce a heart. “So, you think the Draug keeper knows something.”

“I didn’t see him up close, but the guy looks like he’s seen some serious stuff. For all I know, he could be the killer.”

“Check,” she said with a nod. “We’re going to find the Draug keeper. And then what?”

What would we do next? Good question. “Sit down for a nice chitchat?”

“Yeah, right.” Mei selected a new strip of wood and began to carve. “We could capture him. Interrogate him. Like a citizen’s arrest.”

“You’ve been watching too much Law & Order.” I considered it. I knew I—we—needed to take action.

Seeing my star wielded so carefully in her hands somehow cemented our friendship. It made me feel like we could figure this out. As I watched her painstaking strokes, a plan formed in my head. “I could act as bait. Have a Draug attack me. If the keeper is good, he’ll help me. If he’s bad…”

“He’ll sic the whole herd on you?” Mei looked aghast. “That doesn’t sound like a great plan.”

“No, listen, you’ll be there with your flute.” The more I thought about it, the more perfect it seemed. “When you play, everyone will get all calm and tractable. If he’s the killer, we’ll tie him up and Carden goes free. If not, we’ll ask him questions, maybe get proof enough to show that Carden’s not the murderer.”

“Carden, huh?” She raised a brow.

I sat tall, placing my last stake on our small but respectable pile. “Yes. Carden.” It felt good to be honest, if only partly so.

But then Mei frowned. “What if you’re hurt?”

“I’ll be fine,” I assured her, trying to believe my own words. The truth was, I expected to get an injury or two. It didn’t thrill me, but one or two more scratches taken for the cause wouldn’t kill me.

She put her last stake down and we admired our handiwork. Six wooden stakes. They weren’t nearly as pretty as my antique box had been, but they promised extra protection, and that was all the pretty I needed.

“Nice work,” I said.

Our eyes met. Mei-Ling asked gravely, “Will we leave tonight?”

“God, no,” I exclaimed with a laugh. “Do you know what’s crawling around out there at night? Eeesh.” I shuddered. “No. We’ll go tomorrow, when the sun is at its highest.” Alcántara had once told me himself—vampires can roam about in the sunlight, they just don’t relish it. “Daylight won’t protect us from everything, but it might offer a little cover.”

I’d gathered from Ronan that we had a little time before the trial—though I wasn’t ready to confess Ronan’s sympathies just yet. There’d been enough revelations for one evening. Instead, I added simply, “No need to go off stupidly half-cocked.”

“Right,” she said with a smile. “We’ll go off stupidly all-the-way-cocked.”

We smiled grim smiles, and though I was nervous, it felt good to share this resolve. To be taking action.

I crawled into bed, praying we woke to an unusually bright morning. Honesty had cleared my conscience, and sleep came fast and hard.

Fantasies of Carden were waiting for me there.

CHAPTER THIRTY

I awoke feeling heat. Vague images of Carden shimmered on the edges of my mind, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t grasp them. I couldn’t remember my dream.

It angered me. Focused me. Intensified my urgency.

I wouldn’t lose him. I would have that heat. I would make it real, experience it live and in person, and not just as a stolen moment in a pitch-black dungeon, either.

The thought shot my eyes open. “Rise and shine,” I croaked to Mei, still asleep in her bed.

I hopped up to peek out the blinds. Warmth still pulsed through my body, enough that part of me could almost believe we’d woken to a warm day.

Mei rolled to her side, watching as I pulled aside the blinds. “Well?”

I scowled. “It’s as gray and bleak as ever.”

“Of course it is,” she said, throwing off her blankets.

I fumbled into my uniform as quickly as I could, the brisk morning air a shock. “You ready to play that flute later?”

“Always,” she said, sounding slightly shivery as she pulled on her own clothes. “But are you ready to be attacked by the weird Draug guy? Wait”—she stopped and held up a hand—“don’t tell me. You were born ready, right?”

It elicited a much-needed smile from me. “Right.”

The day took forever. We had only three hours between the time her Phenomena class ended and my Medieval Musicianship class began. It’d have to be enough for us to sneak away and find the Draug keeper.