Nightshade Academy Episode 2: Bloodlust

by Kestra Pingree

  All of them are dangerous thoughts. I shouldn’t entertain them, but I let them sit in my head. I won’t act on them, so it’s sort of acceptable. I guess.

  Mom would have packed us up and moved us again if I ever expressed interest in people. Luckily, that’s never been hard for me; I’ve never had much interest.

  Now, though… Now I think I’d like to have a friend. Almost. Emery’s endless energy still exhausts me, but she doesn’t push and gives me plenty of time to myself.

  I kind of like how people pay attention to me here even when I keep giving them the cold shoulder.

  Not the Primary Colors. They don’t count. But they have stopped being pests. For the most part.

  I think they got bored with me.

  I finish my sketch of this plant and stand up to stretch out my cramped muscles. I spent way too much time on the stone floor; my tailbone is sore.

  I scan the Colors in the commons and spot the Primary Colors with Oskar’s rose red and Kian’s chartreuse. I think Kian is the main reason the Primary Colors have calmed down. They seem to really look up to him. I guess kicking someone’s ass can work out like that sometimes.

  Kian’s head turns my way. I don’t think much of it at first, but then I see those twin flashes of red and figure he’s probably looking at me. My suspicions are confirmed when he waves. I plop back down to the ground and stare at my sketchbook, pretending like I didn’t see the gesture.

  I’m not getting close. No way. If he comes over here, I’m leaving. Whenever I catch a whiff of his scent, I start salivating more again. And I catch a whiff of it now, specifically the part of it that burns like ginger.

  I absentmindedly start another sketch, and by the time I’m conscious of it, I realize it’s Kian. Again. I run my nails across the page, harder and harder until it rips.

  Stop thinking about Kian. Stop it.

  Sunny orange catches in my eyes. I keep track of it in my peripheral vision but otherwise try to ignore it.

  “Hey, roommate,” Emery says when she’s hovering over me. “What’re you drawing, and wouldn’t it be more comfortable on a bench?”

  “Nightshades and probably.”

  She holds out her hand. I hesitate but take it. She pulls me to my feet so fast I almost fly into her.

  “You’re so light,” she remarks. “You’re not that short.”

  “Just skinny.”

  “Skinny or not, I’m going to weigh more than most people. Probably. It’s a gargoyle thing.”

  I close my notebook and feel myself blink. My eyelids are sandpaper.

  “You look like you could use your bed,” Emery says.

  “Feel like it, too.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You don’t have to sleep just because I’m sleeping.”

  “I know, but it’s easier than waking each other up because we’re on a different sleep schedule or something.” She yawns. “Okay, I’m just making excuses. I am also exhausted.”

  I lean farther on one foot and my vision does a somersault. Emery grabs me before I can fall over. “You okay?” she asks. “Do you have a fever or something?” She holds her palm to my forehead, and I close my eyes. I don’t mean to, but she’s warm. Has Mom ever touched me like this? No. At most, maybe she’d poke a finger at my forehead to check my temperature, or she’d just send me to bed and tell me to sleep it off.

  “I’m fine,” I say and right myself. “Just tired.” I need to reinstate my no-touching rule.

  Then I hear it: Kian’s heartbeat. I’ve been aware of multiple heartbeats. That’s just become a part of my hearing, but his takes front and center with a steady lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. The sound calls to my eyes, and my eyes find his neck, the bright spot where that big, juicy artery is.

  This is a bad sign. Definitely a bad sign.

  Should I tell Madeline?

  No. I can power through. It’s going to be fine. I’m going to be fine.

  I’m getting out of here.

  CHAPTER 13

  The little rowboat glides atop the water as the Crow navigates through ice chunks with precise oar strokes—and by occasionally shoving off one. Emery helps since she’s been on this lake before. I’m glad the Crow is with us because I’ve never rowed any kind of boat. Never had a reason to, and I’m kind of nervous about hitting an ice chunk and putting a hole in our vessel.

  “We’re out of the craggiest bit,” the Crow says. “Nova, ready to take over?”

  I look over at the water. A distorted reflection of me peers back. The sky overhead is clear again, with the moon and stars speckling the lake’s surface like ice flakes. It’s pretty, but it doesn’t stop moving. My vision swims, and my stomach goes along with it.

  “No,” I say. “I’ll capsize us.”

  “You won’t,” Emery retorts. “We’ve got the Crow. We’re the luckiest tribe here!”

  “You know Kian and Oskar are still part of your tribe. If Belladonna catches the most fish, you’re homework-free for a week. And you’ll even get a pass on PE if you want.”

  “See, Nova?” Emery jabs at an ice chunk, more to stab it than move us, I think; there aren’t that many ice chunks in the lake. “We have to win.” She drops her oar inside the boat and opens our little bait box. She immediately sticks out her tongue. “On second thought, I really don’t like this part.”

  “Gargoyles eat bones,” I say.

  “Yeah. The occasional dry bones and a bunch of normal human food in my case. All the fleshy stuff is nasty.”

  “You know, I should require you to catch more fish since you have a teacher at your disposal,” the Crow says.

  “Even though we started later than everyone else? Does that mean you’re going to hook this worm for me?”

  “No.”

  Emery grimaces so intensely her Color appears to be melting, like one of those orange ice pops left out in the sun. “I’m going to do it,” she says, and then she does. “Did you hear it squish? Are those its guts? That’s so disgusting.”

  Emery casts her line, and I stare at the place it enters. The water ripples. It ripples so violently in my vision I’m expecting huge waves to rock our boat, but it stays still as death.

  Whatever you do, Nova, don’t search the shore. Kian and Oskar have already caught an ass-load of fish, so they're cashing in. Hopefully they’ll stay onshore. I don’t want Kian’s scent to find me out here on the water. I’ll start salivating, and I’ll have no idea how to hide it. My vision will get fuzzier, too.

  “C’mon, Nova,” the Crow says. “Time to learn. No more staring off into nothing.”

  “But when will I ever use this again?” I ask.

  “The next time you go fishing.”

  Which I never plan on.

  I grab my blood bottle and mentally punch myself to keep a grimace off my face. Kian’s taste is barely in there anymore. It’s the bite of ginger again. That’s all I can taste of him.

  Nova, you’re sick. So sick. And it’s not getting better. You’re lying to yourself. You’re never getting out of here. Just tell Madeline. Hell, tell the Crow.

  Someone.

  No. I can do this. I don’t need anyone’s help.

  I can do this.

  “I’ve got a bite!” Emery shrieks and tugs, rocking the boat.

  “Whoa!” The Crow manages to steady us and help Emery reel in her fish at the same time. I think he uses his telekinesis, because the boat is literally on its side but we’re not falling in. Slowly, it rights itself.

  Emery lets out another little shriek when she’s got the fish dangling in front of her. It’s got a pretty reddish stripe along its body; it must be a rainbow trout.

  “First catch,” the Crow says.

  “I’m really not cut out for this.” Emery holds the fish at arm’s length. “Will you at least stun it for me, Crow?”

  “No.”

  “What about unhooking it?”

  “Nope.”

  At first, I think she might stand there forever with
her fish dangling on a wire, but she takes a deep breath, grabs the fish by the gills and unhooks it. Then she picks up our club and gives it one good whack to the head. She does a rather clean job of it, too, meaning she’s seen someone else do it before if nothing else. She breaks one of the still fish’s gills and asks, “Where’s the damn fish stringer? I want this out of my hands.” The Crow hands it to her. It’s pretty much nothing but a line and a hook to string through the fish’s gill and out its mouth. Then Emery locks the fish stringer onto our rowboat with metal clasps and loops. Lastly, she drops the fish into the water off the side.

  “Next bite you get, try not to rock the boat so much,” the Crow says. “It’ll capsize next time. You’ll be cold, wet, and you’ll lose your fish.”

  Emery’s full bottom lip protrudes and quivers. “Sorry. You know my scene is fashion, not fishing.”

  “You’re eighteen. You’ve passed the minimum classes required to graduate, too. A while ago. If you want to leave Nightshade, you have permission.”

  “Yeah… but my family is here.”

  “You can always come back to visit. It’s not like you have to say goodbye forever, right?”

  She sighs. “True.”

  I’m not sure why Emery bothers to stay at the dorms if her family lives in Nightshade. I guess being inside of the castle saves on time.

  The Crow turns to me. “Nova, cast your line. On second thought, wait.” He takes Emery’s fishing rod and doesn’t bother with bait. “Follow the way Emery baited it but cast your line like this if you want distance between your hook and the boat.” He makes a smooth motion with his arm, casting the line several feet from our boat just to reel it back in. “Notice how I barely rocked the boat.”

  “Oh,” Emery huffs, “just rub it in. Wait. I didn’t rock the boat until after I got a bite! Your demonstration doesn’t count.”

  I adequately do what I’m told, hooking a worm and all. Then I’m almost leaning over the side of the boat to keep my stomach from heaving. I have my blood bottle with me, but it’s not going to help. It doesn’t have enough of Kian’s blood. My body isn’t interested in trying any other blood.

  Just Kian’s.

  My head slowly turns until the shore is in view. Oskar’s and Kian’s Colors emerge from the fishing shack and make their way down the stairs as close as ever. Just looking at them makes my stomach worse. I have to swallow over and over to keep myself from vomiting.

  “Crow,” I say, “I think I’m getting seasick.”

  He touches the back of my neck, feathers whispering against my skin. “Maybe not. Maybe you caught something. You’re burning up.”

  “Can changed humans get sick?”

  “Of course. Especially those who are closer to the unchanged.”

  I know it’s more than that, though. Maybe I’ve caught the flu on top of it, but this is all because my body has become weaker. Maybe I have an impressive baseline strength I’ve never had before, but I’d take the strength of noodle arms over these ridiculous food-consumption limitations.

  “Let’s head back to shore. You can rest inside of the shack.”

  The Crow takes the fishing rod from me, and then he and Emery start rowing us back. I can’t get out of the boat fast enough. I don’t wait for the Crow to help me out. I stumble onto the beach, wet and icy sand gushing underneath my waterproof boots.

  “I’ll go with Nova,” Emery says.

  “No reason to. Nova’s just going to sleep for a bit.”

  “But she’s my buddy.”

  “You’ve still got someone with you. Me.”

  Emery sighs.

  “You’re just looking for an excuse to get out of fishing. What happened to Belladonna catching the most fish?”

  Emery jumps out of the boat and clasps my hands. “I’ll catch enough fish for the both of us. And I’m going to at least take you inside.”

  “Hurry up,” the Crow calls after us.

  “What happened to you?” Primary Blue asks. He and his two friends are together as usual—which I find strange because I distinctly remember Madeline saying Belladonna was the only tribe with an odd number. Whatever. They have their fish hanging from a fish stringer they’re carrying around.

  “She’s fine,” Emery says. “Just gonna lie down for a while.”

  “Looks like she needs to,” Primary Yellow agrees. “That sucks, huh?”

  “Get better,” Primary Red says, and the three of them walk inside the little building on stilts with me and Emery.

  There’s a sort of cot inside with some blankets. Emery makes me lie down—after taking off my shoes—and bundles me up real tight because I can’t stop shivering.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” she asks.

  “I’m good.” I glance at the Primary Colors cashing in their fish with Billie and Zanza, who take them to a room in the back to clean their fish and preserve them or something. “You can go.”

  “All right.” Emery pats my head like I’m a puppy and leaves.

  The fishy smell in this place makes me queasy. I need to find a bucket or something to spill my guts into or I’m going to make a mess all over the wood floor. Maybe I’ll just leave. Emery should be far enough away by now. No one has come back from the other room. I thought Billie might, but maybe she’s not as girly as I thought.

  I throw off the covers Emery so carefully tucked around me and practically limp to the door. I open it a crack, checking that nobody’s out there, and then I walk toward the forest sitting next to this lake. These dense spruces are the reason I never saw any sign of a lake before. It’s kind of like how you can’t really see the ‘town’ from the castle either. I’d say they don’t have one, but I’m not sure why Madeline would lie about that. Maybe I’ll look at it one day.

  Oh, but what’s the point?

  I press my hands to my stomach and keep going. I’m slow, but my progress is steady. Apparently these trees are Sitka spruces, which are native to at least some part of Alaska. Likewise, the fish in the lake are real Alaskan fish. I guess that’s what happens when half of the lake is outside of Nightshade’s borders.

  My mouth goes dry, and I reflexively search for my blood bottle, but I’ve lost track of it. It’s not in my hands. Emery probably brought it inside of the shack for me, but I must have left it there.

  “Dammit.” Not that it was helping me anyway.

  I freeze when a caribou pokes its head out of thick foliage. Its brown eyes stare, reflecting my image. Then it turns tail and bounces away, causing leaves to rattle in its wake.

  I hunch over, hand on a tree trunk. I can’t hold it in anymore. My insides burn as I throw up everything in my stomach at the base of the tree. Despite the gore sullying its roots, it continues to hold me up. Bloody vomit. If I wasn’t always drinking blood, this would be a very bad sign. As it is, it’s probably just typical.

  Then again, I still feel like I’m dying.

  I groan, and my fingers shake against the tree. I dig my nails into its rough bark. It isn’t enough. I end up falling to my knees. Luckily, I twist out of the way of my vomit before I go down. A light dusting of snow does its best to eat through my insulated pants. Even the temperature in this area of Nightshade is drastically different from the castle.

  And where are the fairies? I haven’t seen one out here.

  A branch snaps, snow crunches. I jerk my head back, and my neck gets whiplash. Chartreuse glows like an eerie ghost light in the dark and gets brighter. A familiar heartbeat pounds in my head, steady and sure. Honey-sweet, chai spices, and mint leaf.

  Kian.

  CHAPTER 14

  “K-Kian,” I say, and I step back. I can’t have him anywhere near me. That point on his neck glows white-hot.

  “Nova, wait.” Kian puts up his hands like he’s trying to talk down a person holding a gun.

  “No!” I shout. “Stay away from me.”

  He lowers his hands. If not for my bloodlust, his chartreuse would be the same smooth gradient it alw
ays is. Maybe darker. Mossier. Calmer. “No,” he says.

  “Do you want me to kill you?” I can’t believe the way I spit out the words, like venom on my tongue.

  “You won’t.”

  “Try me.”

  “You won’t,” he insists. “Nova, you keep pushing everyone away. I’ve tried to let you have your space, but look at you. You need to talk to someone. You’re going to break.”

  “Talking doesn’t fix this.” My hands move frantically because I want to point out something specific, the vampirism, but it’s all of me. All of me is broken after all.

  “No, but Zanza’s new blood mixture isn’t working, right? Why haven’t you told Madeline?”

  “Madeline kidnapped me.”

  “To save you and to keep others safe from you.”

  “I don’t care about the reasons. It’s still—” I take a trembling breath “—illegal.”

  “Your mom has done plenty of illegal things, hasn’t she?”

  “Don’t bring my mom into this or your weird visions that were clearly out of context.”

  “I don’t want to fight.” He takes a step forward and another when I don’t retreat.

  My eyes burn. My legs lock in place, and I don’t want to run. “Nobody can help me,” I say, and with the way my voice quavers, I think I might cry. I can’t remember the last time I really cried. I can’t remember the last time emotions have clogged my throat enough to stop me from breathing.

  Kian takes another step forward. “I see it, Nova. I see it when you’re in pain and won’t tell anyone.”

  “Then why don’t you tell someone?” I choke. “You told them how to find me in Maryland.”

  Kian stops. “Do you want me to?”

  “No! You don’t know me, not really, so stop. Stop pretending like you do or like you care. You’re crazy. I bit you and drank your blood.” I’m a monster. “Why are you even here?”

  “Because I saw that.” He points at the bloody vomit I soiled the trees roots with. “Because past experience says I should pay attention to my visions.”

  My gums burn. Lub-dub grows louder and louder in my head. It changes tempo, getting faster; Kian’s getting worked up. My mouth burns, fangs ready to dig into my next meal. My senses overload until it all turns white—aside from the blotch of green, the one source of smell and sound.