Foretold (St. Bastian Institute 1)

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Hi,” he replied before tugging me closer and folding me into his arms. I buried my face in his neck and breathed him in, absorbing the essence of him. A second later, he swore under his breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“I slept through my shift at the market. Clay’s going to be pissed at me.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand if you explain what happened last night,” I said.

“Yeah, I hope so,” he replied, rubbing soothing circles into my back. We stayed like that for a long while, just holding each other before I kissed his jaw and asked, “Want something to eat?”

“What about your family?”

“They’ve gone out.”

“Okay. Let me get dressed first.”

I nodded, and Peter sat up. I watched, admiring his bare chest as he grabbed his T-shirt off the floor, pulling it on when we both heard someone come in the front door. Feet pounded up the stairs, and then my bedroom door flew open, revealing Grace, her dark hair in a messy bun. She looked from me to Peter.

“Okay, so who wants to tell me what happened last night because I have been hearing some wild shit,” she said, not even bothering to comment on the fact that Peter and I had clearly spent the night together.

A half an hour later, we were sitting in my kitchen eating a mountain of bacon and pancakes while we filled Grace in on everything that happened the previous evening. She sat in slack-jawed horror as I recounted my discovery of Nic’s true identity.

“I just don’t get why he went to all the trouble of befriending you. I mean, sure, it got him a little closer to your parents, but it wasn’t entirely necessary.”

Trust Grace to bring up the topic I’d been hoping not to have to discuss.

“I can think of a reason,” Peter muttered under his breath before glancing at me, and I had a feeling he suspected Vasilios’ fixation with me.

I blew out a breath. “So, I didn’t get around to telling my parents this part yet, because it’s not that important, but … yeah, it appears Vasilios developed some kind of weird obsession with me.”

Across the table, Peter’s grip tightened around his fork.

“Weird how?” Grace asked.

“He thinks we’re kindred because he’s half demon, half warlock, and I’m half vampire, half witch. In his dimension, most people are full-blooded demons, so he spent his entire life being treated like an outcast. Then he saw me one day and decided we were the same, meant to be or whatever. He’s clearly deranged.”

“Meant to be?” Peter grunted in annoyance.

“Those weren’t his exact words, but that was the overall sentiment.”

“What were his exact words?”

I swallowed thickly. “I think he said something along the lines of, he might be your first love, but I’ll be your last.”

“Okay, that’s some real psycho shit,” Grace said. “Straight out of a stalker movie.”

I gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I know, right?”

Across the table, Peter was frowning intensely. I reached over and took his hand in mine. “Hey, don’t worry about it. He’s going to go to prison for a very long time.”

“Yeah,” he replied, exhaling. “With a bit of luck.”

I traced my thumb along his wrist, and some of his tension subsided. He didn’t need to be jealous about Vasilios. I might’ve liked him when he was pretending to be Nic, but the real Vasilios was abhorrent to me, especially the part where he plotted to kill my parents and Rita. Not to mention that he had Mr Williams killed simply because he was an inconvenience.

“So,” I said, “do you two want to come with me to Angela’s house? I wanted to visit her today and see how she’s holding up.”

“Sure, count me in,” Grace replied.

“I have to go see Clay and apologise for missing my shift, but I can meet you later?” Peter said.

“Sounds good,” I agreed as I dug into another pancake.

19.

It wasn’t until after Peter left that Grace decided to grill me on the other things that happened last night. She wasn’t interested in the gory details, thankfully, though she was excited that I’d finally lost my virginity. Grace had lost hers years ago to one of the older students at St. Bastian’s.

When we arrived at Angela’s house, she was relieved to see me. We sat in her room and talked for a while, going over everything that had been revealed. If it wasn’t for her taking the initiative and trying out a spell to reclaim her memories, I might be hanging out with Vasilios right now, still under the false impression that he was Nic Baumann.

On Monday, we were back at school, and the place was abuzz with gossip. Around every corner, they were gaggles of students discussing Vasilios and how he had been masquerading as Nic. I certainly didn’t enjoy the side-eye they gave me, as if I somehow was in on it just because Vasilios had fooled me into believing he was my friend.