**Edited as of Sept. 19**

Hope you enjoy this!

Happy Reading!

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CHAPTER FIVE

At school, I fear that Carmen is still avoiding me. He wasn’t there on the walk to school and now he has yet to visit my locker as he usually does daily. I glance warily around me as humans brush my back on their way to class. I ignore them and their intoxicating scents. I only concentrate on trying to spot Carmen out in the crowd.

It isn’t hard.

His blonde locks and godlike features make him stand out against the mortals around him. He is leaning against a locker a few yards away with the rest of the group around him. I see Michael’s eyes flicker to me, and I smile invitingly. He grins back, and Carmen turns to see what has caught his attention.

His eyes land on me, and my smile turns to a gentle up-turn of my lips. His eyes soften. I see him turn to Michael, whispering in his ear something that I can’t make out even with my supernatural hearing. I watch as he leaves the other boys and approaches me. I close the locker just as he speaks. “Hey, Sophia,” he greets.

I turn to face him, having to stretch my neck back to be able to look him in the eye. His eyes are a creamy butterscotch color today as they eye me with a gentle gaze. “How are you and Nora?” I ask him, not letting myself ignore what has conspired between my two friends.

“Good. Very good,” he says, a joyful grin parting his lips. “I know all the things that have transpired between us... but what you did yesterday...” He stops, short, unable to continue.

“I understand,” I whisper, softly squeezing his hand in mine. “I want you and Nora to be happy.”

“We are,” he assures me. I remove my hand when the bell rings. “Walk with me to lunch?” he asks, holding out the crook of his arm to me.

I grin slyly and swat at it, swinging a friendly arm around his waist.

In the lunchroom, Carmen forces me to avoid getting food today. Instead, he leads me to a separate table away from the other boys. I narrow my eyes in suspicion as he inclines for me to take a seat next to him. I oblige, and he collapses beside me. I continue to look skeptically at him until he speaks. “I wanted to talk without the others listening.”

“You don’t think they will be?” I cock an eyebrow at Michael, who hears my comment and quickly looks away, head bowed low over the tabletop. Carmen chuckles, and I laugh with him.

“No, but I did want to at least try to have some privacy,” he explains.

“And what is so important that you have to talk to me in private about?” I ask with a thoughtful expression.

Carmen frowns at my obvious scorn towards him, and I grin bashfully. I plead with my eyes for him to continue. He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “For over a hundred years, I have waited and waited for my Blood Mate to come,” he begins, “And when you were changed only thirty years ago, I thought you were it.”

My eyes widen. I can’t believe that Carmen is actually sharing his feelings with me. In the past, it had always been me telling him all about my secrets and desires. Now here he is expressing himself in front of me. I lean unintentionally closer, eager to hear more.

“We connected at first glance. I remember my Birth Parents—“

“Anita and Walter,” I cut in, smiling tenderly at him.

He nods. “Yes. After they created me, they became my new family. And the love that was between them was…was purely unreal. I had never seen anything like it.

“And from that moment on, I had always craved what they had. Walter used to tell me stories about the Blood Mate and how it works. He said that immediately upon seeing Anita, he had knew that she was going to be his Blood Mate. I never really understood how it worked.

“Walter tried to explain, telling me how once that two vampires wished to united, they would be connected in a Bond so strong, that it existed for eternity. Walter said that it was the strongest of holds that you could have on another being.

“But you couldn’t be Bonded until another vampire Consented the connection. By doing this, you are connected not only to your Blood Mate but also to the Uniter, or the one who Consented the deepest marriage of all.” Carmen pauses. I feel my eyes widen.

I am their Uniter.

I never knew this part of the Bonding existed. I knew about the deepest connection with one another—how that once you were connected with someone else, you could almost hear their thoughts and feel their desires as if they were your own.

But I had never knew that Consenting such a connection made you a part of it.

“I-I had no idea,” I fumble.

“I know.” Carmen smiles softly. “That’s why I wanted to tell you. Philip told me about what was troubling you.”

I glower severely at him. “Philip told you this?”

“Yes. And I want you to know that as our Uniter you will be as much connected to us as we are to each other.”

“So you are going through with it then?” I ask softly.

Carmen’s eyes deepen until they are puddles of chocolate fudge. “I love her, Sophia. Nora is my Blood Mate. I feel it.” He hesitates before plunging forward. “I know it sounds crazy as we have really known each other for a few months. But Walter had always told me that when you find that special person, you’d just know. And with Nora, I just know.”

“I’m happy for you, Carmen,” I tell him, taking his hand in mine. “Truly, I am.”

“I know you are.” Carmen squeezes my hand.

Abruptly, he stands as the bell rings. I follow suit and push in my chair. “So will you stay our Uniter?”

“Of course,” I reply back without a moment’s hesitation.

* * * *

I enter my next class feeling unnaturally light. I had assumed that once I knew Carmen and Nora would be Bonded for all eternity that I would feel isolated and forgotten but it has had the opposite effect. Now that I know that I am their Uniter and will share with them the feeling of unity, I have never felt more joyful and free.

Taking my usual seat in the corner of my British Literature class, I gaze outside. It seems that somehow, the weather is mocking me. The sky is a menacing gray with thick clouds, the sun having vanished. The clouds are rimmed with green and black, a rumble of thunder shaking the earth.

It doesn’t leave me feeling any worse, however. I am in too high of spirits to be brought down.

Mrs. Walker soon enters, smelling of mothballs and a curious hint of coffee beans. I look up in interest. However, she appears normal, dressed in a loose-fitting blouse and tan khakis. I sigh and glance around the classroom. It seems that everyone is present, all the chairs and tables filled.

As my eyes scan the room, I meet another pair intent upon my form. I jolt, seeing those electric blue eyes that are becoming familiar to me. The corners of his mouth up-turn in a small smile, and I can’t help but smile back. He seems pleased that I did and becomes bolder. I watch as his mouth forms the words how are you?

I surprise myself when I reply, mouthing back the words, good. You?

I’m fine. He grins again and looks like he is about to say more but Mrs. Walker interrupts, beginning class.

I spin back to face the front, peeking out of the corner of my eye to see Isaac cupping his chin in his hand, staring blankly at the teacher as she discusses A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the recent play we just read. His chestnut hair curls casually around his ears, highlighted naturally with streaks of dark blonde. I wonder where he has been over winter break to get such hair. I watch as he stares at his fingers—slender and tan like the rest of him. His skin stands out amongst all of our other classmates, all of us pasty white in comparison. His eyes sparkle when they peer over at me. I fluster, quickly looking down at my desk. My breathing is heavy and I clutch at my chest, bewildered. When I glance back up, I see a smile plucking at his lips as he stares forward again.

After class, I gather my books. My notebook slips towards the edge and I reach out for it, brushing fingers with another. I gasp, the warmth catching me off guard. By the bronze skin I know already who it is, Isaac’s familiar cologne washing over me. “Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hey,” I squeak, quickly taking the notebook from him. I don’t dare look at him for fear of doing something stupid.

“Where were you yesterday?” he asks, and I fail by glancing at him with surprise.

“Yesterday?” I repeat, feeling dumbfounded.

“Yeah, in Baking. I had to make blueberry muffins without a partner.” His eyes are intent on me, waiting.

“Umm,” I hesitate, not knowing what to say. He locks me beneath his gaze, his cerulean orbs gleaming. “I was at the lake,” I answer quickly and then curse myself silently. Why did I just tell him that? I demand of myself but Isaac brings my attention back to him by speaking.

“You were at the lake?” His expression is puzzled.

“Yes,” I reply, walking quickly through the classroom door.

Isaac pursues. “So you were skipping?”

I spin back around to face him, shocking him by my swiftness. “I wasn’t skipping,” I glower.

“Oh, right. Just leaving school without permission?” He lifts an eyebrow, his expression coy.

“I-I…well,” I stutter, feeling my tongue tangle inside of my mouth as I struggle to come up with an answer as the bell near us rings loudly, making us both jump.

“Time for class,” Isaac informs me but he doesn’t leave. He shifts from foot-to-foot, his eyes never leaving me. I turn away from him, hurrying to my locker. I hear him following but I don’t turn around as I open my locker. I feel his presence still standing there, his cologne sweet and tangy.

Closing my locker again, notebook for Baking in hand, I turn to face him. He smiles, and I feel my knees transform to liquid, making me wobble. He reaches out to hold my arm, his touch scorching my skin. I don’t pull away, marveling again at how warm his skin is against mine. He doesn’t pull away either, his fingers lingering on my elbow. “You’re so cold…” he murmurs, and I jolt, yanking away from him.

What am I doing? Letting this human boy toy with my emotions!

I swiftly stroll around him. I hear his footsteps behind me but I don’t let up until I escape into the classroom. I breathe a sigh of relief when I spot Carmen and the others but then my spirit drops when I see that they all are seated with their partners.

Mine soon enters slightly out of breath. I don’t bother looking to see for myself; his smell is enough for me. I mentally shake myself, sitting fluidly in my seat struggling for control. I can still feel his fingers on my arm, strong yet gentle. I can still feel his eyes on me, showering me under his vibrant sapphires.

I hear his stool creak as he sits. His hands place his notebook on the table. The pencil stays entwined with his fingers, spinning lazily around in a circle. The air leaves my lungs slowly as I exhale, scanning frantically around the room for another distraction besides the boy sitting dangerously close to me.

I feel the air disrupt as he leans towards me, his lips halting near my ear. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice lower than a whisper. His breath is fragrant, minty from the gum he chews, and I feel my limbs start to shake as a wave of human emotions washes over me.

I stare pointedly ahead where Mr. Anderson takes attendance. “Nothing’s wrong,” I snap. His back straightens, leaving me be.

Soon, Mr. Anderson passes out recipes. He hands ours to me, and I take it, my fingers curling around the edges of the note card. “Rice Krispie Bars,” I report, and I see his head bob up and down in a nod.

“All right. Let’s get started,” he announces. I quickly set the card back down, and bend over to pull a pan out from under the table.