“Funny,” Peter exclaimed. “I think I’ve only seen you without it a few times.”

  “Lots of things about me have changed lately, Pet.”

  His eyes fell to the tattoo on my hand. It hadn’t escaped him that Evan had one just like it. “Right, everything’s different. Strange, don’t you think? This is our first dance not together.” Finally, he’d said it. Naturally it had occurred to him too. Peter gave me an affectionate smile. It made me realize one thing hadn’t changed: despite everything, he would always be my best friend.

  “Yeah.” I smiled back. “It really is strange.” He and I had always gone to school dances together, from the Halloween dance to the Snowball Hop to Prom. Every year, every event.

  “Where’s your date?”

  “Oh, Evan’s meeting me later on . . . I hope. He had an important commitment.”

  “More important than you?” he asked, suddenly annoyed. He’d never stopped being protective.

  “He’ll turn up in no time, really.”

  “Tell the truth, Gemma,” Devina said, magically appearing behind him. “You’re not even sure he’s coming. Why don’t you go to the dance with your friend here?”

  “Is what she says true?” Peter blurted.

  “No, she’s only saying it to make me angry.” I shot her an icy glare. There were times I wished I could transform just so I could take her on in a battle to the death.

  “Seriously, Gemma.” Peter took my hand. “If Evan’s not here you can go with me. As friends. Like we’ve always done.”

  I freed myself from his grip, trying not to hurt his feelings. “I’m sure he’s coming. Besides, you can’t bail on Anya, can you?”

  “He certainly can’t. He’s my knight in shining armor!” Anya said, making her entrance. She curtsied and Peter, acting the gentleman, kissed the back of her hand, but secretly continued to stare at me. Was he becoming bolder?

  “It’s not his fault. You’re breathtaking tonight,” Ginevra whispered in my thoughts. I turned and she winked at me with a broad smile as she walked down the stairs. She was radiant in her white-and-gold gown, like a sun goddess. Her blond hair was gathered back, a small braid crossing her forehead like a diadem. She had once explained that Witches had the habit of braiding their hair, and that a braid across the forehead was like a symbol of the Sisterhood.

  “Look who’s talking,” I whispered to her when she approached me.

  “I’m not kidding,” she insisted. “You have an aura of power around you. I can feel it. Your body is producing loads of pheromones.” My mouth dropped open in concern. That was why Peter couldn’t take his eyes off me. Ginevra nodded, picking up on my thought. “It must have been your visit to the Copse. It made you stronger.”

  “We’re going in Peter’s car,” Anya broke in. “See you there!”

  “We’d better get going too,” Ginevra said, changing the subject. “Don’t worry. Relax and enjoy the dance. Everything will go fine, you’ll see.” I nodded, hoping with all my heart that Evan would show up soon to make sure of it. I always felt safer when he was with me.

  “Well?” Camelia appeared in the room in a dreamy powder-blue gown. “Are we going to the dance or aren’t we?” She’d dyed her hair the same color, leaving the roots darker. Her outfit was complete with a delightful little pink hat. Her enthusiasm made me smile, but the mischief in her eyes worried me. “I missed these dresses so much!” she exclaimed, twirling around.

  “I didn’t, not one bit.” Simon appeared behind Ginevra and kissed her bare neck, pulling her against him. She turned and kissed him passionately. “I think I’m going to get rid of it, and fast,” he whispered, his hands on her hips.

  She bit his lip. “I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

  “Hey, we’re still here, you know,” I warned them. They smiled at each other, taming the fire that consumed them.

  “Okay, if you’re so scandalized . . .” Ginevra told me, a sly grin on her face.

  Actually, I was missing Evan terribly. “Gwen, I have a bad feeling about this. Maybe we shouldn’t go without Evan.”

  “He’s just on a mission, Gemma.”

  “Do you really think he’ll get there in time?” I asked as we opened the garage door.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, taking my hand, “but whatever happens, we’re going to have fun.” I returned her smile and got into the back between Camelia and Nausyka. Simon sat down behind the wheel, with Ginevra in the passenger seat.

  I put on my iPod earbuds to shut myself off from the group for a moment. My mind continued to return to Evan. I picked out an Avril Lavigne song, When You’re Gone. I’d always liked listening to songs that matched my mood. Music was like a good friend: it understood me, no matter what. And I missed Evan so much . . . The fear of losing him through the transformation seemed more real when he was gone, because I knew no one else was capable of pulling me out of the darkness.

  We reached the Crowne Plaza Resort in no time. The atmosphere inside was magical. All the students from the high school looked so elegant, and the Victorian theme had been implemented to perfection, with draperies and fabrics from that era, big candelabras, and even an area for the orchestra with a piano and various instruments. Some of the boys wore hats and carried canes while others even had fake mustaches or beards. It was really like being in the nineteenth century.

  Peter was at the back of the room with Anya. He took her hand when the coronation was announced.

  “Just in time!” Nausyka exclaimed.

  “Don’t get your hopes up. The queen can only be chosen from among the seniors, and you’re a little bit older,” I teased her. “Besides, you’re not even enrolled in this school.”

  “Oh yeah?” she replied, annoyed. “If I want to, I can get myself crowned this very—”

  “Faith Nichols!” the principal announced.

  “Aw, too late,” I said, one eyebrow raised.

  “You did that on purpose. You distracted me!” she said, stunned. Surprisingly, there was no trace of anger in her voice. In fact, she seemed to find it funny. “You’re learning,” she admitted, realizing I’d done it intentionally. Knowing that Nausyka wanted to make the principal say her name, I’d stolen that little victory from her.

  I searched the crowd for my friend Faith. She was climbing the steps to the dais that had been set up for the occasion. I forgot about Nausyka and smiled. I was so happy Faith had won the title of Winter Carnival Queen. I’d voted for her myself a few days before. Though she tried to hide it by wearing her magnificent red hair in a tight bun or always staying in Jeneane’s shadow, her beauty hadn’t gone unnoticed. The truth was that Faith didn’t like to have everyone’s eyes on her—too much attention made her uncomfortable. She preferred to be with the horses on her family’s ranch. I’d seen her with her mare, Hope. Together they seemed invincible. That night, like it or not, everyone had noticed her. She’d worn her copper-red hair down and it flowed over her peach-colored dress. She was gorgeous. I’d always known she was. She went to sit on the throne that had been prepared, waiting for them to announce the king.

  “ . . . and the Winter Carnival King is . . .” the principal continued. Brandon stepped toward the stairs. “Peter Turner!” the man announced in a booming voice.

  I gaped, ecstatic, as Peter rubbed his neck, embarrassed. He hadn’t been expecting it. He looked at me from across the room and I clapped for him. It was the tie, I mimed. He laughed and walked toward the dais. As he passed Brandon he slapped him on the shoulder. “Next time, dude,” he joked, regaining his confidence. Brandon reached out to give him a playful punch on the shoulder, but Peter dodged it.

  He thanked everyone, as Faith had done, and went to sit on the throne beside her, but the principal asked them to open the dance. Peter held his hand out to her and she let him guide her to the middle of the room, where they began to dance.

  “My knight has become a king!” Anya exclaimed, joining us.

  “That doesn’t make you a queen,” said Nausyka, who hadn’t yet gotten over her defeat.

  “At least I have a knight.”

  “Had,” the Witch pointed out, gesturing at Peter and Faith, who were dancing close together.

  “You could be his secret lover,” Camelia suggested, looking amused.

  I shook my head and went off in search of the punch, hoping no one had spiked it. “Want something to drink?” I asked the three of them, but they paid no attention to me.

  Ginevra and Simon danced by to the rhythm of a Venetian rondo. Simon wore a white-and-gold suit, probably an original. Everyone’s eyes were on them. They really did look like a knight with his princess. He stood out with his dark allure, a blond Angel of Death dressed in white. He looked like an officer—and, come to think of it, he was. I’d read in Ginevra’s diary that before they met Simon had been a soldier in the Swedish forces. General Adrian Simeone Dahlberg. The girls from school weren’t used to seeing him and he left them dazzled.

  Faith and Peter also danced by as I was sipping my punch. I raised my glass to toast them and Faith smiled at me cheerfully. They danced off, but a moment later Jake asked to cut in and Peter relinquished Faith, taking off the crown and giving it to his friend. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that Jake was in love with her and that Faith loved him back. The mystery was why they weren’t together. Peter came over to me and I smiled at him.

  “Congratulations,” I told him. “Winter Carnival King! Who would have guessed?”

  “Was it that unlikely?” he asked, pretending to be offended, but two dimples soon appeared in his cheeks.

  “No, not at all. You look great tonight.”

  “So you do.”

  The silence grew awkward.

  “Those two are perfect together,” I said, nodding toward Faith and Jake.

  Peter laughed. “He’s nervous. He’s about to ask her to be his girlfriend.”

  “Finally! Let’s hope it happens.”

  “Your date’s not here yet?”

  “Ahem . . . Here you are!” Anya emerged from the crowd and linked her arm in his. “Gemma, do you mind if I steal him for a moment?”

  “Of course not,” I said as she led him away.

  She looked back and winked at me. “So tell me all about the coronation . . . Speaking of which, where’s your crown? Have they dethroned you already?”

  I laughed as they walked off. I wasn’t sure Peter would be able to handle her Witch’s exuberance. Still, they were cute together. Watching them as they moved across the dance floor, I knew for certain that I wouldn’t mind if something romantic started between them. Maybe my friendship with Peter would go back to what it had once been. I smiled. Yes, I liked the idea.

  All at once, a sharp pain in my abdomen made me double over. Unable to breathe, I gripped the tablecloth in one hand. Glasses of punch crashed to the floor, spilling their contents. I looked at the crowd dancing and the room started to spin.

  I’d do anything to go out with him.

  I’m going to get back at that bitch.

  Please, kiss me. Go on, kiss me.

  What I would give to get her into bed.

  If I find out they hooked up it’s over between us.

  I gasped for air. Where were all those voices coming from? People’s faces passed me like ghosts and their laughs jumbled together, filling my head. I closed my eyes and everything stopped. In the darkness I could hear only my breathing; all the other sounds had faded away. Even the pain was gone. When I opened my eyes I found myself in the center of the room. A couple in front of me was arguing.

  “You’ve been staring at him all night. I saw you!”

  “That’s not true! I don’t even know who you’re talking about!”

  I walked around the boy. Though I didn’t know him well, I suddenly felt attracted to him. I wanted to see him from closer up. As I moved nearer, his breathing accelerated and he shouted at the girl, his eyes bulging, “Don’t lie!” He was on the verge of losing control.

  “I’m not lying! I swear, I only care about you.” A tear streaked the girl’s face and he wavered. I couldn’t tolerate it.

  “She wants to go to bed with him,” I whispered in his ear.

  “You want to go to bed with him!” the boy repeated. A sensation of immense power surged through me. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe she’s already cheated on you.”

  “Or you already cheated on me,” he continued. He pulled his hand back and slapped his girlfriend across the face. She fell to the floor and everyone turned to stare at them. I smiled, but something distracted me: a distant voice.

  “Gemma? Hey, Gemma, you okay?” I felt myself being dragged away as though at the mercy of a raging river, the frenzied beating of my heart returning to drown out all the other sounds. My eyes shot open and the voice became clear. It was Jeneane. I looked at my hands clutching the paper tablecloth, now torn, and felt my heartbeat slowing down. “Hey, do you feel okay?” she asked again, worried.

  I struggled to my feet and saw the couple fighting, but . . . they were on the other side of the room. What had just happened? My head spun faster and I felt like I was falling.

  “Gemma!”

  “Step aside, people. I’m a doctor.” It was Simon. His warm hands raised my head and in the background I heard Ginevra and Anya coaxing the crowd to stay back.

  “Gemma!” Peter said, resisting their efforts. “What’s wrong with her? Is she okay? Let me through!”

  “She just had a dizzy spell. It’s natural when you’re expecting a baby. Give her a moment,” they told him.

  Someone loosened my bodice and I started breathing again. I slowly opened my eyes to see Simon gazing at me. “Welcome back.” He smiled. I stared back at him, unsmiling, as a silent tear slid down my cheek. What had just happened? I knew the answer. It had been me. I’d incited that boy to slap his girlfriend, even though she hadn’t done anything. How could it be?

  “Calm down now,” Simon whispered, using his healing power on me. The only problem was that what was wrong with me couldn’t be healed. “Think you can stand up?” I nodded, letting him help me. He walked me to the hallway and the Witches followed us.

  “What happened?” I asked, exasperated and frightened. No one answered. “What just happened?” I insisted.

  “Gemma.” Anya rested her hands on my shoulders. She’d read the guilt in my mind. “It’s nothing. Calm down. This isn’t good for the baby.”

  “How can you say it’s nothing? It was me! I made that guy hit her. It might not be a big deal to you, but to me it’s a very big deal.”

  “You’d better get used to it,” Nausyka replied curtly.

  “What?” I turned to face her.

  “That’s enough. You guys can’t mean to argue here, I hope,” Ginevra intervened.

  “I refuse to console her,” her Sister insisted.

  “She’s upset.”

  “She has no reason to be. What’s going to happen later?”

  “She’s still a mortal. Her soul isn’t ready yet,” Ginevra hissed.

  “It’s her nature and she’s going to have to deal with it.”

  I covered my ears and Nausyka went back into the ballroom, Camelia at her side.

  “I’m going too,” Anya whispered. “I’d better keep an eye on them.”

  Ginevra put her arm around my shoulders and tried to look me in the eye. I stared into space, though, lost in the darkness lurking inside me. “There were two of me,” I murmured in shock. Ginevra let out a long sigh.

  I’d had an out-of-body experience. “Tell me I imagined it, Gwen. Tell me it wasn’t me who caused their fight.”

  “It wasn’t you.” I looked at her, in my eyes a hope that faded the second they met hers. “You didn’t cause their fight, but you heard it and . . . you fanned the flames.” Ginevra put a hand to her forehead, remorseful. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I was wrong. Taking you to see my Dakor wasn’t a good idea—it just made things worse.” My eyes widened. She was right: taking me into her world had exposed me to evil, and my soul had absorbed it, accelerating the process.

  “But I split in two. How could that be?”

  “Your soul felt drawn to their argument and went to it. Your body isn’t yet ready for power like that, so you passed out. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

  I touched the mark on my belly that was still throbbing. I’d felt a knife plunge into my flesh there. That mark belonged to the devil, as did I. I’d already sworn, but suddenly I wanted to take it all back. I didn’t want to transform any more. I didn’t want to risk turning into a monster. Evan was right—I couldn’t control the darkness. It would force me to remain there, watching, feeding off me as I lost everything. As I lost Evan.

  I remembered everything about the fight between the couple. Every crude, appealing sensation. The scary thing was that during it I hadn’t remembered anything about myself. All I’d wanted was to continue to feel that power.

  I’d been deluding myself. I would never manage to battle the evil inside me, because I wouldn’t want to battle it any more. My doubts dissolved, leaving way for a terrible certainty: the transformation would obliterate me. I’d been all wrong and everyone else had been right—most of all Evan, who had never accepted the thought of my transforming and was desperately looking for another solution. I’d always thought he didn’t trust in us, in our love, but he was just afraid of losing me. He didn’t want to risk it. He understood that no matter how strong our love was, it didn’t depend on us—only on me. I never listened to him and always complicated everything. But this time I couldn’t be wrong again, because everything was at stake. Not even I wanted to risk it any more. I wasn’t going to transform.

  “Guys . . . ” Ginevra’s whisper shook me from my thoughts as a shiver ran down my spine.

  Simon and I leaned toward her, worried. Ginevra looked like she’d seen a ghost. “Gwen, what’s wrong?”

  Distraught, her eyes met mine. “It’s your Dakor,” she said, her voice low and frozen from shock. “His heart has started beating.”

  A shudder of fear chilled me to the bone.