A scalpel, Meredith realized, heavy with dread, and tried to scrabble backward, to press herself into the hard table below her. She couldn't move. Her breath was coming in anxious, harsh pants. "No," she cried out, suddenly able to speak, hating the pleading, pathetic sound of her own voice.
The blade flashed silver along her stomach as Meredith watched, its motion followed by a thin, spreading line of red.
Something terrible was happening to her. Panic scratched at the inside of Meredith's head, a frantic babble. Something terrible was happening now.
Meredith's eyes shot open. Dark room, soft bed, Alaric's steady breathing beside her. She felt at her stomach, reassuringly whole and unbloodied. She'd known it was a dream. But her heart was pounding hard, and her mouth was dry. Dream or not, she'd brought the fear with her: Something terrible is going to happen.
She got out of bed and padded into the kitchen, leaving the overhead light off. When she opened the refrigerator to pull out the water pitcher, she winced, blinking at the brightness. Her eyes were still sensitive from the harsh white lights. No, she reminded herself. They're not. That was just a dream.
Her throat was as dry and sore as if she'd really been screaming, though. Meredith gulped down the water and poured herself a second glass. It felt good going down, icily cold, but when she finished she was still parched.
There was something off about her, she thought. She felt jittery and overly sensitive, as if a touch might be too much to bear.
Swallowing against the ache in her throat, she squared her shoulders. Be strong. She was probably feeling weak because she'd been slacking off on her exercise schedule. Patrolling with Jack and his hunters was no substitute for a real workout.
A run clear would clear her head, Meredith decided.
A few minutes later, she left the house wearing a ratty old T-shirt and shorts, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Starting with a slow, deliberate jog, she gradually sped up, her feet slapping a steady rhythm against the sidewalk. The sky was beginning to lighten with the promise of dawn, but she had a stake strapped to her waist, hidden by her shirt, just in case.
By the time she reached the Dalcrest campus, she was almost at a sprint. The faster she went, the more centered Meredith felt, resettling comfortably in her own body again as her muscles strained.
The sun was just creeping over the horizon, and the campus was almost deserted. Meredith ran right past the only two people in sight, a couple making out, hot and heavy, pushed up against the side of the library.
A few strides farther on, she stopped, the scene she'd just passed replaying in her mind's eye. The way the girl had her face pressed into the man's throat, her arms holding him in place. The slump of the guy's shoulders.
Meredith swore and turned back, running as fast as she could, her hands fumbling to pull the stake from under her shirt.
It wasn't until the girl looked up, blood dripping down her chin, the ends of her hair sticky and matted, that Meredith realized it was Trinity.
"Hey there," she said, baring her teeth at Meredith. "I was hoping I'd run into all you hunters."
With a twist of horror, Meredith realized the guy Trinity held propped up was Roy, one of the hunter brothers. He flopped forward against her, his eyes closed and his head hanging limply. Meredith couldn't tell if he was breathing.
Her hands closed tighter over her stake, her heart pounding. If she could get close enough ... A stake wouldn't kill an Old One, if that was even what Trinity was now, but it might slow her down.
"Are you in there, Trinity?" she asked, watching the girl carefully. If only she'd glance away for a moment. If Meredith could somehow distract her, maybe she could get close enough.
Trinity's smile grew, but she said nothing, just stuck out the tip of her pink tongue to lick the blood off her lips. With an internal shudder, Meredith realized Trinity's eyes were yellow now, like an animal's. Like Gabriel Dalton's when he had Solomon inside him.
Taking a step closer, the stake firm in her grip, Meredith asked, "Do you know who you are?" She cocked her head toward Roy, limp and still, his head lolling against Trinity's collarbone. "Do you know who he is?"
Trinity laughed, a harsh, sudden noise completely unlike her usual soft chuckle. "All you hunters are tied so tightly to one another, aren't you? I wonder if you know as much as you think you do."
She glanced at Roy for a moment. "This one? He's a fighter, but he couldn't strike at someone he knew." Meredith was only half listening. With Trinity's attention distracted for that split second, she saw her chance.
Lunging forward, she stabbed the stake at Trinity's heart.
And was frozen in place.
If Meredith harbored any doubts that Solomon had invaded Trinity's body, they fell away now. It was like the Plantation Museum, like her nightmares. Her muscles, which just a minute ago had been strong, running, were completely immobile.
"I'd kill you now, but it's more fun to play," Trinity-Solomon-said. "I'll see you around, hunter." She stepped away from the library without even glancing back at Roy, and he fell heavily to the ground, landing on the concrete with a sinister thud.
Without looking back, without hurrying at all, Trinity sauntered off, her boots clicking on the pavement. Meredith was powerless to do anything except watch her go.
When Trinity had turned the corner and was completely out of sight, the hold she had on Meredith broke.
Immediately Meredith raced after her, her heart pounding as she rounded the corner of the library and ran between the dorms behind it. But Trinity was gone. The campus spread out in front of her in the early morning light, peaceful and silent and completely empty.