Blood Fever: The watchers

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Authors: Verónica Wolff
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protect her from this vampire the most. “You headed to dinner?”
    Her eyes shifted from me to Alcántara and back again. Her expression remained flat, sizing us up like some young Chinese-American Terminator. “Yes.”
    “Cool. I’ll be right there.” The perfect excuse to flee. “I saw on the board that it’s pasta night. A girl’s gotta get her carb on. Save me a seat.”
    Mei nodded and walked on.
    “You must look after her,” Alcántara said to the back of my head.
    “So I’ve gathered.” Alcántara, out of everyone, saying I needed to look out for some girl? It was ludicrous. “But why?”
    “Acari Mei has promise, and we’d like to nurture that promise.”
    “I see.” My voice was calm, but my mind was racing. My suspicions had been correct—
Alcántara
had been the one behind her kidnapping.
    “She has a great musical gift,” he went on, “but her extreme youth does not lend itself to the same physical adeptness as the older Acari.”
    I wanted to snark, so why’d you kidnap her if she’s only fifteen? But I only nodded. “I understand.”
    “We like to give every guest of the island a fair and equal shot.”
    Yeah, right.
Seeing as they’d killed her boyfriend, threatened her family, and simply plucked her from some New York suburb to take her for their own, these vamps had a pretty weird concept of protection.
    He began walking again. “You are both so gifted, after all.”
    I shuffled to catch up, thankful to see the dining hall peeking in the distance.
    I’d been right. The vampires had stuck Mei-Ling with me so I’d protect her. But why? Did
she
know what she was doing here?
    Before this went any further, I needed to get to know her better. And quickly, too. Because on the Isle of Night, watching out for someone just as easily meant offering your life for theirs.

CHAPTER NINE

    H e came for me in the night. I woke to his touch. Gentle pressure stroking up and down my leg.
    I stretched, rolled onto my back. The pressure increased until I sensed his individual fingers splayed along the side of my thigh. A light grip, then release. Grip and stroke.
    I sucked a breath in through my mouth. Arched my back. I felt languorous, like a cat. I wanted that hand higher. Lower.
Something.
    Why was he teasing me like this? I wanted him to peel away my blankets. Why didn’t he?
    The frustration made me angry. My body pulsed now, needing him. I tried to speak. I wanted to tell him. Why couldn’t I—?
    I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest. My heart pounded, its pulse echoing through my body until I throbbed with it.
    Carden—where was he?
    I widened my eyes and looked around in the darkness. Mei-Lingwas in her bed, her breathing deep and even. The clock read 3:02. It was the middle of the night. A dream.
    No Carden.
    I flopped back, breathing like I’d just sprinted a mile. It was only a dream. I pulled the covers tight under my chin, but it didn’t make me feel any less vulnerable.
    I measured my breathing, forcing myself to calm down.
A dream, stupid.
Carden was out there somewhere, but he wouldn’t know I’d dreamed of him.
    Would he?
    No, he wouldn’t. It was a silly notion brought on by the vivid sensuality of it. There was a simple explanation: I was coming off the bond and it was giving me fever dreams.
    I rolled onto my side, clutching the blankets snugly at my chest until I felt cocooned. It was no good, though. I’d never feel safe.
    My throat felt so dry it ached. Hunger clawed at my belly. I curled into a fetal position around the cramping.
    My bedside clock ticked. No digital readouts for us, just old-fashioned clock faces with glow-in-the-dark hands, and I watched their slow progress. Tick: 3:12 a.m.; tock: 3:47. Time crawled, but I was too jangled to sleep. And way too uncomfortable.
    I tried to think peaceful, meditative thoughts to relax, but it was no good. My mind raced.
    Mei-Ling. I needed to help her, but I couldn’t get a bead on the girl. Did she hate me? Or

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