by Mari Mancusi
My fingers wrap around the smooth wood, just as Apple Pie and Ice Cream manages to plow through Heather and lunges at me. I whirl around, stabbing with all my might, stake straight to the chest.
Okay. Good news and bad news.
BAD NEWS: Fairies don’t “poof” into an easy-to-sweep-up pile of ashes when pierced through the heart by a wooden stake like vampires do.
GOOD NEWS: With enough force, wooden stake to the heart = hurts like hell, even without the whole handy-dandy poofing side benefit.
The fairy bellows in a mixture of rage and pain, clutching his heart as he falls to the ground, blood gushing from his chest. After a moment of convulsing, his eyes roll up into his head and he lies still. Nausea sweeps over me—killing fairies is a lot messier than killing vampires—but I swallow it down. No time for puking when my family’s still in mortal danger.
It’s then that I realize everyone’s stopped fighting and is staring at me. “She killed Apple Blossom!” cries the smallest of the fairies.
“Oh God, Rayne! What have you done?” Mom whispers hoarsely.
I look at the fairy, then at my parents, confusion warring inside of me. “What have I done?” I reply. “I ... saved ... I mean, I protected ...” What’s going on here? Weren’t we fighting to the death?
“Get her!” the fairy cries. The five remaining creatures take flight, swarming in my direction, swords blazing. I suck in a breath, hold up my stake, wondering how the hell I’m going to kill all of them at once.
“No!” Mom suddenly cries, leaping in front of me, just as the fairies start dive-bombing me. They slam into her instead and her thin body crumples like tissue paper as she falls to the ground.
“Mom!” Sunny screams from behind me. It takes me a moment to realize I’m screaming, too. In fact, I can’t stop. And I can’t look away, either. Mom. White as a ghost, not moving at all. Is she ... Could she be ...
I can feel Dad grabbing me and dragging me away from the action. “We’re going to Plan B,” he shouts at Heather, who’s busy facing off with the remaining fairies.
“Plan B?” I whirl around. “What’s Plan B?”
But Dad doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches into a bag and blows some sparkly dust in our direction.
What the—
I accidentally inhale some of the dust and my lungs seize up. I start choking, my vision fading fast and my muscles atrophying at an alarming rate. “Don’t fight it,” I hear Heather say, as blackness races toward me at top speed. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
“Mom!” I cry one last time before succumbing to the encroaching night.
There’s no reply.
4
I wake to the sound of birds, cheerfully chirping to one another in a nearby tree. Probably gossiping about some worm one of them managed to procure, just by getting out of bed early. So annoying. I try to pull the pillow over my head to drown them out, but then remember I’m supposed to be in Vegas, a place where even birds see the merits of sleeping in.
Birds ... feathers ... fairies ... It all comes racing back to me. Flashes of wings, flaming swords, and screams of pain. My mother, jumping in front of me to shield me from the fairies’ blades ...
I sit up with a jolt. “Mom!” I cry.
“Shh,” Heather says in a soothing voice. I look over to find her sitting in a small folding chair, by the side of my bed. “You’re safe.”
Heart in my throat, I glance worriedly around the room, not recognizing anything I see. Where am I? Not Heather and Dad’s apartment, that’s for sure. My stepmom would never approve of such Spartan decor. Plain white walls, two twin beds—one on which I’m lying—a pile of boxes in the corner, and a small window. Outside I can see the tops of what appear to be large pine trees, blowing in the wind.
Definitely not Vegas.
“Where are we?” I demand. The place smells like bleach, like a hospital ward. But I don’t appear to be injured in any way. “Where’s Mom? Where’s Dad? What happened to the fairies?” The questions spill from my lips, fast and furious, and I realize I need to stop asking and allow Heather a chance to answer.
Heather swallows before replying, her eyes betraying her concern. “Those were messengers of the Light Court,” she explains. “Evidently the prime minister has grown short on patience, waiting for your parents to turn you over to the court to begin your training. He decided to take matters into his own hands.”
My mind flashes back to the dive-bombing fairies, with flaming swords, slamming into my mother, hitting her square in the chest. She crumples to the ground, writhing in pain.
“Is Mom ...” I trail off, not being able to vocalize my greatest fear. A large lump wells up in my throat and tears blur my vision. “I mean, is she ... ?”
Heather reaches out and touches my arm. “She’s alive,” she assures me. “It’s very hard to kill a fairy, unless you wield weapons of iron. Something other fairies can’t touch.”
Relief washes over me like a tidal wave. My mother and I have had our moments, that’s for sure, but at the end of the day, she’s like my best friend and I love her to death. If anything were to happen to her ...
I shake my head. I can’t even think that way. “So where is she then?” I demand. “I need to talk to her!”
“That won’t be possible. She and your dad surrendered to the fairies and were escorted back to fairyland.”
Horror slams into my gut and I feel like I’ve had the wind knocked out of me. “Wh-why would they do that?” I cry.
Heather gives me a steely look. “To buy me enough time to scurry you two away.” She glances over at the other bed and I suddenly realize the lump under the blankets must be my sister.
On cue, Sunny sits up with a start. “Where am I?” she cries, looking around, her tear-stained face white with fear.
Heather gestures for her to cross the room over to my bed. “They call this place Riverdale,” she explains. “Hidden deep in a remote valley, nestled within a large mountain range in the Alps, only a handful of people know of its existence.”
I stare at her, shocked beyond belief. Not only are we not in Vegas anymore, we’re not even in the United States? That pixie dust crap must have knocked me the hell out.
“It’s a type of boarding school,” Heather continues as Sunny joins us on the bed. “Run by an international affiliate of Slayer Inc. Here, they prepare teenagers to become slayers. Assassins who police otherworld creatures who don’t follow the rules.” She looks over at me pointedly. “But you know all about that, right, Rayne?”
Well, that answers the question on whether she knows I’m a slayer. But does she know about my other ... condition ... as well? I mean, Slayer Inc. vice president Teifert does, but he swore to secrecy. (Seeing as not everyone in the organization would be pleased about having a vampire-vampire slayer on the payroll.)
I decide it’s best not to ask, just in case.
“A school for slayers?” Sunny pipes in. “What about that whole ‘once a generation is born a girl destined to slay vampires’ thingie?”
“Yeah, that would make for a pretty small graduating class,” I add.
Heather chuckles. “The ‘once a generation’ thing was a pretty idea, but a totally outdated methodology for all practical purposes,” she explains. “The otherworld has grown exponentially over the years—with new vampires, werewolves, fairies, and other creatures that fall under Slayer Inc.’s policing jurisdiction. Obviously it’s not realistic to rely on only one slayer for all that. So they introduced slayer charter schools to train multiple potentials.”
“Hang on,” I interrupt. “I never went to any sort of school.”
“We do things a little bit differently in America,” Heather explains. “Our VP of operations, Charles Teifert, prefers to train his slayers one-on-one.”
“So then why did you bring us here?” Sunny demands. “Why are we at a school for slayers now?”
Heather looks surprised at her question. “Because it’s the best place to hide you from the
fairies,” she explains. “Until your parents are able to work things out.”
I open my mouth to object, but at that moment a knock sounds on the door. “Come in,” Heather invites and a moment later a big, burly guy with arms full of boxes enters the room.
“These are the last,” he informs our stepmom in a heavy German accent. “Where would you like them?”
Heather gestures to the pile of boxes in the corner. “Right there is fine,” she says. “The girls can unpack at their leisure.”
My eyes widen as my stuffed Skelanimals bat, Diego, falls out of the top box as the mover sets his load down. “Our stuff?” I cry, realization hitting me with the force of a ten-ton truck. “You brought our stuff? How long do you think we’ll be stuck here for anyway?”
Heather shrugs. “I can’t really say. A few weeks? A few months? Hopefully less than a year.” She shoots me a sympathetic look. “Unfortunately there’s a lot of bureaucracy in the Seelie courts. Sometimes conflicts can really drag on.”
“Where’s the phone?” Sunny interjects in an urgent voice. “I need to make a call.”
“Sorry,” Heather says. “No phones. We’re miles away from any cell towers and there are no landlines on the premises either.”
Sunny stares at her, horrified. “What?”
“It’s for the best,” our stepmom adds. “It’s vital that no one knows you’re here. Even those you think you can trust. If word got out to the court, they’d come and take you away immediately. And all your parents’ negotiations would be for nothing.”
“But Magnus ... My boyfriend ...”
“I’m sorry, Sunny. But it’s for the best. Really,” Heather soothes. Then she rises to her feet. “I need to get going,” she tells us. “The helicopter is waiting. We’ll send word when we can.” She reaches out to hug me and Sunny. My sister pulls away angrily, staring down at her hands. Heather sighs. “I know you’re upset,” she says. “But you have to trust me. This really is all for the best.” And with that, she turns and walks out of the room, leaving Sunny and me alone with our boxes.
My sister flings herself at her bed, collapsing in tears. I feel her pain. This situation sucks big time. I can’t believe they locked us away in some kind of weirdo slayer boarding school with no telephone and I’m sure no Internet access either.
And worse—no blood substitute.
I swallow hard. I’ve been surviving on Blood Synthetic since Jareth turned me into a vampire back in the spring. (Yes, real blood is just too “ew” for this vegetarian.) But there’s no way on Earth they’re going to have some kind of True Blood-type thing in stock at a school for slayers, right? And any regular food will just make me puke.
Which basically means I’ll either end up starving to death within the first week of being here or have to resort to switching to real blood. And let’s just say snacking on one’s schoolmates probably isn’t the best way to make homecoming queen ...
In fact, it might even get me staked.
5
My troubled thoughts are interrupted by a loud cry of anguish from across the room. I’m on my sister’s bed in two seconds flat, pouncing on her with my best twin sister hug. “Are you okay?” I murmur, squeezing her tight.
“Of course I’m not okay!” she sobs into my shoulder. I pet her back, trying not to think about her runny nose seeping onto my delicate spider web sweater. “I had just gotten him away from Jane finally. And I gave up Jayden for him. We were supposed to go home and live happily ever after. It’s so not fair.”
Oh geez. I push her away. I should have known. While I’m busy suffering snot stains and worrying about the fact that my very existence on the planet may soon be coming to an extremely violent (or at least hungry) end, my dear sister is, once again, only concerned with her love life.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I saw how freaked out she was when she was trying to reach Magnus last night. The girl couldn’t even bear being incommunicado for a five-hour plane ride. Now she’s faced with the very real possibility that she may not hear Maggy Waggy’s sweet wittle voice or see his zomg so beautiful face for nearly a year.
I realize she’s glaring at me—I must have pushed her a little harder than I meant to. After all, while I may not have vampire super-strength, I have been working out a lot at the Oakridge High gym since becoming a cheerleader. “Sorry, Sun,” I say with a shrug. “I know it sucks. But what can we do?”
She flails back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling miserably. “The worst thing is he won’t even know where I am. Or why I didn’t come home. What if he thinks I’ve changed my mind? That I ended up running away with Jayden or something?” She swallows hard. “And what will Jayden think, for that matter? I told him we’d still be friends. He’s going to think that was just a line to get rid of him.”
I bite my lower lip. While I’m not a fan of the angsty love-triangle melodrama she’s spouting, I have to admit she does have a point. After all, technically Slayer Inc.’s the only one with the GPS coordinates on our whereabouts right now. And it’s not like they’re going to send out the secret location of their vampire-killing school to the local coven, even if we asked nicely.
Which brings me to my own immortal beloved. What’s Jareth going to think when he comes home from his international coven relations trip next week to find out my whole family’s disappeared without a trace? He’s got to know something’s not right; he’s the Blood Coven General, after all. Will he send out the troops for a worldwide hunt? Put my face on a blood carton? What if he gets lonely waiting for me to come back and decides to find himself another blood mate or just a human girl on the side?
I shake my head, not wanting to think of that, and reluctantly turn my attention back to my sister. “How can I survive a year without Magnus?” She’s wailing. “I might as well be dead.”
Sigh. Seriously, if she were narrating this story, you’d probably start seeing the same blank pages that New Moon had after Edward left Bella. (Which, I might add, was a terrific waste of trees, especially considering how many of those books there are.)
“May I remind you, sister dear,” I say, rising from her bed, “that two days ago you were ready to break up with your little vampire boyfriend ’cause he was all blood mating with another chick? And now, suddenly, you’re telling me life is meaningless and empty without him by your side?” I shake my head. “Come on, Sun, even you’ve got more spine than that!”
Sunny opens her mouth to retort—or maybe start crying again, who knows—but a knock on the door cuts her off. I glance over nervously. Who could it be? Evil fairies bent on our destruction? Or just more movers?
The knock sounds again. “Sunshine? Rayne?”
I grab a box of Kleenex off the dresser and toss it in Sunny’s direction. No need for whoever it is to see her so tear-stained. Then I turn back to the door. “Come in,” I say.
The heavy door creaks open and a curly orange-haired girl who looks a lot like Little Orphan Annie peeks her head inside. I squint my eyes at her. I swear she looks vaguely familiar, though I’m positive I would have remembered if I’d seen that haircut before.
“Hi guys!” she cries with a chirpiness that does indeed make me think she may, at some point in the future, be belting out a rousing rendition of “Tomorrow.” Not exactly the type of girl you’d expect for a Slayer in Training. But then again, these guys hand-picked super-size Bertha, so their selection process has always been a bit suspect, if you ask me.
“I’m Lilli! Welcome to Riverdale! Or as we like to call it, Slay School! It’s so great to have you! We don’t have any twins here! You’re the first!”
(Yes, in case you’re wondering, she really does speak entirely in exclamation marks. Which, I can tell, isn’t doing much for my dearly depressed sister’s nerves. Or mine, for that matter.)
“Wow, besides your hair color, you’re, like, totally identical, huh?! That’s so neat! Do you ever play switcheroo?! Like when you’re on dates with your boyfriends!?”
; On cue, Sunny breaks into a fresh set of tears, pulling a pillow over her head. I cringe. Oh great. She had to say the “B” word.
“Is she okay?!” Lilli asks me, wide eyed and concerned as she glances over at my mopey sister. “Did I say something wrong?!”
“She’s fine.” I kick the lump under the covers in the vicinity of my sister’s butt. “Right, Sunny?” The last thing we need is to get a reputation of being whiny little emo bitches our first day here. “She’s just a little cuckoo for cocoa puffs right now.”
“Oh my God, I totally understand!” Lilli replies, shooting the Sunny “lump” a sympathetic look. “I was soooo homesick when I transferred here six months ago. Did you guys transfer, too?!”
“Actually,” I say, “until now I’ve been personally trained by the vice president of Slayer Inc. himself.” I look at her smugly. There. That ought to be worth some kind of street cred, right?
“Oh, right. You’re part of that Slayer Inc. group,” Lilli says knowingly.
I cock my head in question. “Is there more than one Slayer Inc.?” I had no idea.
“Well, technically they’re all under the same parent company,” Lilli replies. “But each franchise has its own rules. Like your group, for example. People here call them vampire sympathizers.”
I stare at her. “Vampire sympathizers?” What is she talking about?
“Yeah, I mean, you have to be a pretty evil vampire doing some pretty evil things to get yourself slain by one of Teifert’s slayers,” she explains. “Here at Riverdale, they’re not so forgiving. They believe the only good vamp is a dead vamp. And they teach their slayers to stake first and ask questions later.”
She gives me such a knowing look I have to suppress a shiver. This is not good. Now I’m not only stuck in a school with no blood substitute, but I’m in danger of getting staked by the student body at a moment’s notice. I really need to keep my immortality on the down-low here.
Lilli shrugs. “Well, um, anyway, I’m here to escort you to the main office! Headmistress Roberta has summoned you and you do NOT want to keep the headmistress waiting!”