Page 76 of Virgin Sacrifice

The distinctive sound of footsteps on gravel pulled my attention away from my phone. Looking up, I was surprised to find the parking lot still empty.

While the lights from the station cut brightly through the dusk, the lot itself was poorly maintained. At least a third of the thinly scattered lampposts flickered erratically, if they weren’t out altogether, and the potholes outnumbered the parking spots. A heavy copse of trees on either side of the lot obscured it from any neighbors. Combined with the handful of cars in the lot, there were plenty of hiding spots for someone to approach the station undetected.

Another crunch of footsteps to my left had me whipping around to confront whoever was creeping about, likely one of the twins, but once again, there was no one there.

The hair stood up on the back of my neck, and suddenly I was all too aware of how vulnerable I was, alone in the dark.

Shivering, I took a couple of tentative steps back toward the station, if only to firmly plant myself in the light and dissuade any would-be attackers.

I was about to succumb to common sense and retreat inside the police station, when two bright lights shone through the growing darkness, and I released a small sigh of relief as a car matching the description of my ride turned into the parking lot.

The driver pulled up to the curb where I was waiting, and once I had confirmed that it was in fact the Uber I had ordered, I quickly tucked myself away in the warm back seat.

Still, the sense of someone else out there watching me in the dark didn’t fade, and I peered out the window, scrutinizing every inch of the lot as we made our way through.

We were about to turn onto the road and I looked back one last time. That was when I saw him.

Standing near the trees, under one of the flickering lights, was a strange man, watching us intently. He was a study in contrasts, simultaneously striking and utterly mundane. Both his height and build were nondescript. I would have put him at maybe five-ten, five-eleven and 170 to 180 pounds. His attire of loafers, chinos, and a generic blue jacket would have allowed him to blend in seamlessly almost anywhere in town.

But his hair was the whitest blond I had ever seen, and even under the orange light of the lamp it shone angelically. His face was all sharp angles and a satisfied smile.

As if he could see me looking at him, he smiled even wider, and that was when I saw the madness in his grin. Instinctively, I pulled myself back into my seat to avoid his gaze, and before I could peek out again, the car had turned onto the road and was pulling away from the station.

We had made it back to Jackson College House without incident and it wasn’t long after that I found myself back in my dorm room, safely tucked away in my bed.

Why couldn’t I shake the feeling that I was still being watched?

Chapter thirty-five

Luz

Aaron’s mood continued to decline toward the end of the term, along with his health. While his rattling cough had started to heal, he continued to suffer from intense spells of nausea and dizziness. It didn’t help that he and Melody had started studying to prepare for the MCAT in the spring, adding another layer to the crushing stress of their junior year.

He hadn’t been around as much these days, and I found myself enjoying his absence.

“Why do we hang out with him and Melody, again?” I asked Autumn one day.

I was genuinely curious. As much as my friendship with Autumn had felt foreign to me when we met, there was something easy about spending time together. Hanging out with Aaron and his friends wasn’t unpleasant, but my reactions to them felt mechanical, forced, like I always had to think of the right thing to say.

Autumn had tried to explain it to me—something about being nice, open-minded to making new connections, giving people a chance. I would have thought that a couple months of grinning and bearing Aaron’s over-the-top moods would have been enough of a chance, but apparently I needed to try harder . . . if I had any intention of following Autumn’s well-meaning advice.

“You know, for a moment, I kinda thought something might, like, happen between you two,” she said, as we sat down for breakfast, Aaron and Melody conspicuously absent.

“No, Autumn. No,” I said definitively. “There is no version of this world or the next where I would be interested in Aaron.”

“Why not? He’s a good-looking guy, nice, smart. Everyone seems to like him . . .”

“If you’re looking to play matchmaker, you’d have a better shot of setting him up with Melody,” I said dryly.

“Nah.” She ripped off a piece of her chocolate croissant and popped it into her mouth. “They’ve been friends for, like, years. If it was going to happen, it would have happened already.”

It was a solid assessment. The two of them had zero chemistry. Plus, if Melody’s reaction to Nixon was any indication, she clearly had a thing for bad boys.

“Where are the gruesome twosome today, anyway?” I asked.

“Melody had to meet with the prof she’s working as a research assistant for, and Aaron said he wasn’t feeling well and was planning on just staying in and, like, studying,” Autumn said, before frowning and adding. “He’s been feeling sick a lot more. I told him he should go see a doctor at the campus clinic, but you know how stubborn he is. I don’t know who’s worse, him or you.”

“Me, definitely me,” I replied with confidence as I finished up my breakfast. “What’s the rest of your day like?” Together we moved to clear our dishes.

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